Horror at the Yoga Studio

I wanted to share an experience I had — perhaps it’ll benefit us all. I recently attended a very much procrastinated yoga class. I love this class — especially at the end of a long day — when all I want is to unwind, breathe out, and stretch away the little toxins and tensions that build up from sitting too long. In our very sedentary lifestyles, we often forget how vital it is to simply move and let our bodies release what they hold onto.

What I love about modern yoga is how it borrows from ancient wisdom — combining breathwork and movement to build strength while reconnecting us to our own rhythm. Having someone guide you through it feels like a gentle reminder that we don’t always have to push so hard. Sometimes, we’re just meant to flow — to move in tune with the natural rhythm of our body. Honestly, it’s the same feeling I get from dancing — that sweet combination of movement, release, and quiet joy.

It’s my midweek therapy session — minus the talking, plus a mat and questionable flexibility. The instructor usually sets a mellow vibe: dim lights, lavender mist, and that soft “inhale light, exhale tension” soundtrack that makes you feel like your mind and your heart might actually come together for once.

But this particular evening… things took a turn.

As we rolled into our downward dogs, I noticed the music had a rather strange tone to it. It wasn’t the usual flutes and forest birds. No, this was a woman singing something about calling for help… while apparently pledging loyalty to the devil.

I kid you not.

Before I could process what was happening, our instructor cheerfully announced, “Oh! If you haven’t noticed, I’ve put on a Halloween playlist today!”

Well. That explained a lot.

I tried to stay focused on my breathing — in, out, ignore the demonic duet happening in the background — but the lyrics were impossible to unhear. And as the song went on, I felt my heart grow heavy. There was a deep sadness in it. A woman torn, choosing darkness, and proclaiming it as her destiny.

And that’s when it hit me:

This isn’t just music. It’s influence. It’s words. And words carry weight — deep, spiritual, energetic weight. Worlds from the beginning of language carry a profound way to hold influence.

I noticed my body syncing to the rhythm. When the beat sped up, my heart did too. When it slowed down, so did my movement. Even my thoughts seemed to shift with the tone of the song. It reminded me how sound — just like food, environment, or company — feeds the soul.

There’s a reason, I thought, that our tradition is so cautious about music. Not because melody is evil — but because it influences the heart more subtly than we realize. A catchy tune can sneak in where logic never would. And before we know it, our emotions, energy, and even beliefs start to dance to its rhythm.

We now have research showing that sound vibrations can alter the movement of water molecules. And guess what — we’re made up of mostly water! Imagine what’s happening inside of us every time we let certain frequencies wash over us.

I looked around at everyone swaying to the beat, blissfully unaware of the lyrics’ message, and felt this ache of concern. Our generation — and especially our kids — are surrounded by songs that glorify pain, rebellion, and emptiness. It’s not just background noise. It’s programming. Programming of the devil- I will say it very clearly.

But here’s the beautiful contrast: if dark lyrics can pull hearts downward, then divine words can lift them upward.

The Qur’an is not poetry — it is the uncreated speech of God. To read it, to listen to it, is to let divine energy enter through the same gates that music does: the ears, the heart, the soul. No auto-tune needed.

Think about how Umar ibn Khattab (RA) — once fierce in his opposition to Islam — was transformed instantly by the sound of Qur’anic verses. The word of God penetrated his heart so deeply that the devils themselves began taking a different path whenever Umar walked by.

That’s not mere inspiration; that’s spiritual frequency tuning the heart.

Negative influence doesn’t happen overnight. It plants seeds — small, slow-growing, but persistent. The same is true for divine remembrance. Dhikr, reciting Qur’an, reflecting on Allah’s words — these aren’t just rituals; they’re spiritual detox. They rewire the heart one verse, one breath, one second of contemplation, one repetition at a time.

So next time I’m in yoga class, I might just bring my own playlist — something a little less “haunted” and a little more healing. I’m just kidding, but honestly, it’s not really about the playlist. It’s about something deeper — how quietly and sneakily negative or even demonic influences surround us in our daily life.

Abu Huraira (RA) once said that having God-consciousness — Taqwa/ awareness of God— is like walking through a field of thorns, carefully protecting one’s garment with every step. Perhaps we are living in those very times. Living a life rooted in truth is hard, while living amidst distractions and delusion often feels easier — and even more appealing. Yet not for those whose hearts are constantly striving for goodness.

Protecting our hearts, our minds, our children, and our behavior has become more challenging than ever — yet also more rewarding in the sight of Allah. So be mindful, stay vigilant, and place your trust in Allah — Who sent true guidance to every people and continues to reach us through the mercy and love of our beloved Prophet Muhammad ﷺ.