Author:DreamBrother
Summary:(Summer Alphabet Challenge 2007) All shall be explained in due course, darlings.
Disclaimer:I'm pretty sure my math teacher would die of laughter at the thought that I of all people would be involved in the making of a math-heavy TV show. Don't kill my math teacher, she's nice in spite of the fact none of my classmates have escaped being called 'nitwits' and only 'looking, looking, seeing nothing, warming benches.'
Author's Note:I take up the Q challenge; my muse was getting too sure of itself. Little info on it, Qawwali is a form of devotional music, dating back around 700 years, popular in India and Pakistan and probably some neighbouring countries as well, especially those with a large Muslim population.
Mega thanks to Shaolingrrl who made this fic possible with her research and help, basically I just filled in the blanks; she did all the hard work.
Q is for Qawwali
"Hey dad, where's Charlie? Is he home?" asked Don, as soon as he walked through the front door.
Alan looked up from the blueprints he had been perusing, which were laid out on the dining room table, "He's in the garage, I think. Dinner in half-an-hour, if you're staying,"
"Yeah, I probably am," answered Don, before disappearing into the garage. He walked in to find all the black-boards in the room completely filled with equations, or expressions, or whatever his little brother was up to, and the person in question was on the sofa, legs lifted up onto the table in front and headphones around his ears, head tilted back a bit. Knowing that Charlie wouldn't have heard his entrance or his greeting, Don moved in front of his little brother, who had his eyes open and therefore, was surprised when Charlie didn't react to Don coming into his line of vision.
"Charlie?" asked Don worriedly, waving his hand in front of Charlie's open, and blinking, eyes. He could also hear the music coming from the headphones and winced at the volume. To him, the 'music' sounded like a bunch of screaming. "Hey Chuck? Chuckie? Chuckles? If you don't answer I'm going to get some scissors and start cutting your hair off," warned Don. Thinking his brother was purposefully ignoring him, Don decided on some retribution. Walking back into the house, he made a bee-line into the kitchen and exited with an object in his hands. His father, watching his movements, called out as he was about to make his way back into the garage.
"Don? What's that in your hands, what are you up to?" asked Alan in slight concern.
"If you don't know, you can deny prior knowledge to Charlie and therefore acquit yourself, dad, it's for your own good," replied Don, with a small smile on his face.
Entering the garage again, Don again tried to capture his brother's attention, and failing for the second time, Don leaned forward and…
… Slipped the cube of ice down the front of Charlie's shirt, and stepped back to enjoy the show; Charlie did not disappoint:
Leaping up at the sudden feeling of something very cold sliding down his chest, Charlie whirled around and repeatedly tugged at his shirt in a frantic motion to get rid of the unwelcome object. Once the ice cube slipped from the bottom hem of his t shirt and fell onto the floor, Charlie took a few seconds to see the culprit of his actions. The headphones having slipped from his ears sometime during his frenzied actions, the uncontrolled laughter soon registered in Charlie's mind and he whirled around to glare at his brother who was bent over double, leaning on the sofa arm for support.
"You better have an extremely good reason for what you just did," stated Charlie, hands on his hips, continuing to glare.
Charlie's words only seemed to make Don laugh harder and clutch his stomach, "Ouch…Charlie… You should've…seen your face…" said Don between laughs.
It took another few minutes of Charlie glaring before Don finally got his laughter under control and was able to talk properly again,
"Sorry Charlie, but I couldn't resist. To be fair, I waved my hand in front of your eyes more than once but you didn't notice. And I threatened to cut off your hair but to be safe, I went with the ice," grinned Don.
"I was thinking, which must be a foreign concept to you," glared Charlie before continuing, "about my Cognitive Emergence Work."
"Alright. And what were you listening to? I can hear the screams from here," said Don, nodding at the headphones still dangling around Charlie, moving to collapse on the sofa.
"Hear for yourself," replied Charlie, untangling the wire and handing the headphones to Don who listened for barely two seconds before moving the headphones away,
"Jeez, Charlie, that's loud! You might want to calculate how fast you're going to turn deaf if you continue listening at this volume," chided Don.
"Yes, Mum," said Charlie, rolling his eyes, "and half the fun is in the fact that it's loud."
"And what exactly is it? Seems a bit familiar but it kinda made no sense to me," said Don.
"It's Qawwali," stated Charlie.
"Say what?"
"Qawwali," repeated Charlie.
"Are you swearing at me in another language?" inquired Don.
"What? No! It's a form of music, has its roots going as far back as the 8th century. It's popular in India and Pakistan and other neighbouring countries with a majority Muslim population," informed Charlie.
"And you're suddenly a big fan, how?" asked Don.
"Larry suggested it to me, I was stuck at a point in my Cognitive Emergence work. Qawwali is devotional music, and the whole point of it is to induce a trance on the listeners as well as the singers. I was looking into hypnosis and altered states of consciousness and this actually has interesting math applications, music is used in a lot of different cultures for such purposes," lectured Charlie.
"Looks like you fell for its magic too, bro," said Don, grinning.
"I did not! I was simply considering how I could incorporate it with my work, and you had to go and disturb me," protested Charlie.
"Hey, I was simply looking out for your welfare, can't have you drifting far, far away, can I?" defended Don.
"Hm…maybe. Anyway, it's more than religious music, there are various forms. You have the ones written about God, some about his prophets, and some are about tragic love and drinking and being away from your 'beloved' and all that," said Charlie, his fingers making apostrophe marks in the air.
"Yeah, I can get that, all over the world guys have girl trouble," said Don shaking his head but then lifting the headphones gingerly towards his ear and listening carefully, "hey, now I remember why it sounds familiar, I think I've heard something like this on some movie soundtracks, Dead Man Walking, maybe…"
"You probably have. I could only find the works of one guy, and he's the one who made Qawwali popular in the western world, did a lot of concerts and released some albums and such," replied Charlie, rummaging around and pulling out a CD cover from between some papers with a flourish, "ah hah! Here it is. Nusrat… Fateh… Ali Khan," said Charlie, struggling with the foreign words.
"If you want, I can wave a pendulum and hypnotize you the old-fashioned way, without you losing your hearing," offered Don, smiling at the thought of what he could make his brother do if the hypnosis crap actually worked.
"No, thanks! I can see your ulterior motives shining through; you'd probably make me… do some very embarrassing stuff not even worth mentioning," said Charlie, raising his eyebrow. "So, you're not here for a lecture on music and hypnosis, and according to you, your main motive was not to slide ice down my shirt, why are you here?"
"Just thought I'd drop in. And also, the FBI is forming a basketball team to play with the other law enforcement agencies, thought I'd ask if you wanted to join," offered Don.
"Me? Can I even do that? It's not like I'm an agent or anything…" asked Charlie.
"Doesn't matter if you can carry a gun, just depends on how well you can kick the LAPD's ass. Gary Walker is getting too sure of himself and his guys," said Don.
Charlie was saved from replying by their father poking his head into the doorway and announcing, "Boys, dinner's ready."
Both brothers stood up and made their way inside. Don said, "Just think about it and see if you can fit it in your schedule. I'll email you the practise times tomorrow, they're going to be a bit weird, depending on the availability of the players."
"Alright, I'll think about it," said Charlie, pleased at the offer his brother was making, it was a step forward in their relationship. "Sit tight, I'll grab us both some beers," offered Charlie, as he made his way into the kitchen.
Don sat at his usual place at the dining table, and from the kitchen he heard his brother call out, "I'm not sure if I want to be on the opposite side of Gary Walker, the man scares me."
"Yeah, he tends to do that, but man up, Chuck. I promise I won't let him shoot you," offered Don.
Charlie walked back in, holding two beer bottles by the neck and offered one to Don, who accepted with thanks.
"Yeah, but his power is all reaching, he'll probably attack in sinister ways. Give me parking tickets, fines, take my driving license away…" rattled off Charlie, watching keenly as his brother took a sip of beer.
"That last thing might actually be doing us a fav-," Don's words broke off as he stared at the beer bottle he had begun to place on the table but was now… glued to his hand. "Charlie," growled Don, looking up to shoot his brother a murderous look.
"All's fair, Don," said Charlie, grinning as he saw his brother try to shake the bottle off his hand. "You like the cold so much, now you have a cold beer stuck to your hand. Match made in heaven, bro."
Khatum (The End)
Hmm...not sure if I'm entirely satisfied with this one, it's kinda experimental.. But every fic is a learning experience.
I think you guys are going to know my music tastes very well soon. Anyway, Qawwali music. Jeff Buckley covered one of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan (aka NFAK for the sake of my typing fingers)'s song on his Live at Sin-e album, which was great. The soundtracks of Natural Born Killers, Last Temptation of Christ and Dead Man Walking also has his stuff. Especially the last one, it has Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam singing with NFAK on two songs, at least. Hot stuff. And translations can be found online easily so we can all know what he's singing. And that man can give Buckley a run for his money when it comes to vocal range. Seriously.
Let me know what you guys think. Good, bad, 'huh?', all welcome for this fic, it's broadening my horizons with this one. And look at the bright side, you know now a bit more than you did before reading this fic :D
Now I have to experiment with another fic I have in mind, I have to work out how to work it. And I feel evil, bloodshed may be imminent.