These days, I listen to podcasts a lot. It’s not exactly a new habit the joy of listening has been ingrained in me since childhood.
During the war, we lived with my grandparents, as my father, a military officer, was away for most of the time. Back then, one of my main forms of entertainment was listening to the radio. Whether it was the booming sound of the Saturday morning show that echoed throughout the house or the careful, ritualistic way my grandfather tuned in to Persian news broadcasts from foreign stations every night radio was a constant companion.
One of my favorite activities was picking up the radio and spending hours trying to discover different channels. Strange and unfamiliar languages filled the airwaves the voice of a man speaking rapidly without pause, occasionally raising his voice with excitement. Sometimes, on another frequency, I’d stumble upon a woman singing with such emotion that it drew me into a world of fantasy. What did her words mean? Was she sad, or did I sense longing in her voice as it soared and dipped?
The game went on for hours. That brown box became a portal to my imaginary world.
My parents nurtured this obsession of mine. Standard gifts for academic achievements, birthdays, and holidays were always story tapes. I had a complete collection of stories, each of which I had listened to dozens of times. At night, the fear of missile attacks on Tehran was eased by escaping into these stories. Sometimes, I imagined myself as Zorro, saving Iran from Saddam, and other times, as Amir Arsalan, bravely vanquishing the forces of darkness.
A few months before the university entrance exam, our family took a trip to the north of the country. The villa we stayed in had two floors, and on the ground floor stood a massive radio the biggest I had ever seen. What a magnificent machine it was. While everyone else went for walks by the sea, hoping for a quiet environment that would allow me to study, I found it impossible to resist the temptation of that magical box.
As soon as they left, I would rush to the radio, pressing my ear to the speaker, slowly turning the dial with care, determined not to miss even a single station. Each time I discovered a new channel, I’d listen to the conversations, songs, and music for a while, completely immersed.
After the exam and entering medical school, life accelerated. There was no time left for the fantasies of the radio. Life had become serious, and the sweet dreams of childhood faded…
I lost my radio dreams for about ten years. But around the age of thirty, by chance, I stumbled upon a new cultural tool audiobooks. I bought my first audiobook in CD format from a bookstore, and that was the beginning. One led to another, then another, and another…
Later, podcasts emerged, and I fell in love with this new medium. Every day begins with listening to a podcast, and at night, I fall asleep to the sound of one. Whether it’s the stories of others or more serious philosophical and scientific topics that intrigue me, the excitement of listening that childlike joy still burns brightly within me. Even my learning is tied to this deep, almost playful, curiosity.
Why did this personal experience captivate me, and why did I feel the need to share it with you?
I find myself in a phase of life where self discovery plays a significant role uncovering the roots of my habits, passions, and pleasures. I didn’t find peace and acceptance within myself until I began to explore the “whys” behind who I am.
For this journey of discovery, take every flicker of memory and reflection seriously. You are the guiding light of your own path, and this light has been shining since the day you embarked on the journey of life.
The “why” lies within our lived experiences, not elsewhere.
I hope this reflection sparks a flashback for you that you, too, revisit one of the ongoing stories of your life. May you take joy in reliving it, and perhaps, it will illuminate the road ahead for you.
