Learning Tajweed– Again

The Internet is awash in web sites for learning tajweed. I am amazed and impressed, but not tempted to use them. I first learned tajweed the old-fashioned way, by sitting at the foot of a master. Now, I have returned to that method.

My local mosque has begun a tajweed class that meets once a week for two hours.  The Egyptian teacher knows her subject and how to teach it. I look forward to that class. It’s better than nothing but I admit to craving more, needing more.

In Riyadh, I walked to a local madrassa every weekday to attend  a class that began promptly after Asr and ended at Maghreb. The teacher, also Egyptian, taught us not only by explanation but by beautiful example. She would recite, to illustrate the technique she wanted us to learn. She would explain in Arabic. I loved her velvet voice and her determination to teach well. Tajweed needs intensive practice over time. My life in Riyadh offered the perfect milieu in which to learn. Every morning before class, I would review and practice. I learned well.

Twenty years has passed since those golden days of sitting at the foot of a master, and I’ve fallen away from the practice of tajweed. The reasons are many and banal; you can imagine them and you won’t be wrong. Now, however, retired from the necessity of working for money, I’ve decided to resurrect the inspiring and enriching practice of reading the Qur’an with tajweed.

Surprisingly, I have not forgotten all of what I’d learned. I am rusty, to be sure, but the foundation is well-entrenched in my brain and heart. It’s like riding a bike, or swimming. Once you learn thoroughly, you can revive the skill after a hiatus. I look forward to reviving my practice and my skill.

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About Marahm

At first glance, I may appear to be a middle-aged American woman with kids, grandkids, retired from a job in a hospital, gratefully relieved from the responsibilities that come with all of that. Behind the image, which is true enough, I am fairly unhinged from much of American mainstream living, having spent twelve years in Saudi Arabia, years that sprung me from societal and familial impositions of narrow bands of truth. I have learned to embrace my sense of identity as a seeker, an artist, and a writer. I study Arabic and Italian language, because I love them, and I love their people. I still dream of spending more time in the Middle East and Italy, though the dreaming now seems more real than the possibilities. I am a photographer. I write, and sometimes publish, flash memoir, and now a blog or two.
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