Just Bliss

Posts Tagged ‘flute


Why are the lips so silent?

Skies will be shaken one day

By Earth’s inhabitants one day

What does the flute croon?

It’s spring now! Craves for beloved;

The flute thus croons

What’s the carnival about?

It’s far and wide all over crowd,

Everyone but, alone in the crowd

Where have all the stars hidden?

Tears stream like embers smitten





Flute’s harmony in night’s alluring solitude ambiance

Waving its veil over the moonlight enhancing romance

The harmonious echoes vibrating near the mountains

Spreading over the meadows, and on tracks winding

Upcoming as memory of a beloved tap heart lovingly

Tickling the deeply weighed down eye lids cautiously

Moon’s face dappled with dust of lament
Even the dust particles dance with delight
The damsel kept aside her tambourine
The cluster of stars weakened their light
Galaxy gazed at universe in awry fright
There’s sweet melody in the ambiance
As if the poet has exclusive inspiration
Like first ray of the sun on beloved’s face
Like beloved’s loving hugs and embrace
At times stops at times stabs the silence
The scream lessens slowly in ambiance
Like a caravan descending in the plains
In shadowy sunset from the mountains


Miss you——-

Far from the maddening city, there are fields, meadows, pastures, lagoons and a small jungle near the Airport in Faisalabad.  The birds that are seen in National Geography Channel only, are glimpsed and heard their sweet melodious hum early in the morning. Reptiles, jackals, wild rabbits, foxes, pigs and so many other animals were seen there also. I saw most of them during my stay.   It’s a beautiful picturesque area of Pakistan. I have the honor and pleasure of living there for quite some time.

I had a maid Meera, she was in her twenties. I liked her charming personality. After she completed her 10th grade her mother asked her to sit at home. She read magazines and story books I bought. She’s a good story teller too. Whenever she finished her work or doing embroidery she would tell different happenings of that place. One day while oiling my hair, Meera told me a touching true story.   She said that, “several kilometers from where we lived, was a ruined huge mansion in an isolated locale. It belonged to a business icon. Learned and refined Mr. Aslam lived a happy life with is two small daughters and a beautiful wife. There were fruit gardens, fields of sugar cane, wheat and veggies and also a stable. Aslam was fond of Arabian horses. The horses were taken great care of.  Flower beds of seasonal flowers added fragrance and splendor to the garden. The couple enjoyed seeing their daughters play and chuckle. God blessed them with everything. Outside the mansion was a fish pond having variety of fishes. The setting was tempting.  Aslam was a kind and bighearted man. Passersby and well wishers envied while step brothers felt jealous.

He ran a flourishing gold and precious stones business in South Africa.

There he purchased a more luxurious house than the one in Faisalabad, to settle there with his family. As his step brothers always created problems for him.”

Finally the day came. He was coming home. He sat smiling to himself, thinking about his family, in Swiss Airlines to live a peaceful life with his family in Nigeria. He expected his family to greet him at the airport but, something upset him when he saw the chauffer only.

All the way home he sat silent and nervous. He missed a heartbeat to see people waiting for him. His step brother Rashid stepping forward told him that his family died the night before whilst sleeping. Nobody knew the cause of their tragic death. Rashid tried to comfort him saying he had taken control of the affairs.

Mr. Aslam didn’t expect the tear-jerking news. He got his nervous breakdown. He couldn’t recover from the deep shock. He became a drifter. Never stayed at one place but restlessly kept moving in the same vicinity.

Aslam lost his business and property. The step brothers cheated on him.

The fish pond turned to a stagnant water puddle. Mosquitoes, flies and creepy-crawly insects increasing pollution all around with venom and awful stink. The garden and fields became fruitless and dead. Weeds, shrubs and wild bushes attract goats and cows. Caretakers of their animals relax their exhausted body under thick bushes or lean against a knoll there. Meanwhile their animals enjoy grazing. The setting sun and falling night overshadow the light so the people hurry to leave that place. That old deserted house looks haunted at night. Darkness adds a scene of lost souls and supernatural powers boogie, playing clanging instruments. The isolated locale is scary at night. People avoid passing by.

Shabbily clothed in rags having weird looks with tangled hair and old shoes, an old man came there every Sunday with the rising sun. Silence prevailed as everyone slept being an off day.

Spreading an old tattered mucky blanket he sat at the side of a knoll with eyes closed in deep thinking.  After some time he took out his flute from same soiled bag, to play a mystical note. Birds flying in the air came down, cats, dogs, ducks and passersby gathered around him. It seemed as if they felt comfort and relief in hearing his flute which mesmerized the whole scenario that polluted area.

No one could ever think that he was Aslam, who was a handsome and cultured business icon once.

Years have passed. The death is still a mystery.


It was strange that He never forgot  the day of his  fabulous wedding. Hence every year on 25th December he especially came there. Lay flowers and recited the following;

Remember, I miss you when———

The Poplar blooms

The Pine blubber

The Cyprus whimper

Remember, I miss you

The Moon shines

The spring trickles

The Jasmine emits fragrance

 Remember, I miss you!

The Partridge whines

 The Cherries ripened

The sparrows tweet

Remember, I miss you!

 The Ravi wobbles

The Chenab grouches

The Sutlej is jittery

Remember, I miss you!

The Shoots sprout

The Cuckoo coos

The Lightening cracks

Remember, I miss you!

 The Sun sets,

The Star dies

The Traveler is misled

Remember, I miss you!

 The Clouds holler

The Rains slobber

The Hearts clobber

Remember, I miss you!

 I was so touched to hear this story. I prayed for the souls to rest in peace and Aslam to recover from his grief.





Kulsoom’s mother said to her, “You played the flute, so well Kulsoom.  Will you please, play it again for us?”

Smiling shyly, Kulsoom replied, “Come on, mother, you also make fun of me.”

Kulsoom was unaware, of her mother’s agony. She didn’t know that her mother veiled her tears, in her smile. She was, going through the ghastly, period of her life. She was so helpless.  Since Kulsoom, was already, engaged to Dada.   Her mother desired that her daughter, get married, and go to her husband’s. She thought she’ll be safe there.  She couldn’t think of, any other, better way, than this.

Dadi remained absolutely normal, for days, having no influence of jinns. It seemed, as if nothing odd, ever happened. She behaved normal with everyone. Chatted, laughed, played and enjoyed life with her sisters and friends. Everyone felt relief. Living looked attractive again. Rain and rainbow filled hearts with joy again.

So let your light guide you,

Look up at the rain,

For the clouds will fly by you,

You will feel the sun again.

Sometimes, she changed to a weird being again. She acted stubborn, inflexible, and rude, unlike her temperament with everyone who came across.

She was under treatment of a spiritual healer. The treatment proved fruitful. So she was married and sent with Dada. She never experienced anything like before, after marriage. Her marriage proved the best and permanent remedy.

Kulsoom’s parents told every minute detail about Kulsoom, to her husband. So her husband, (Dada) took great care of her. He used to say jokingly that, “no, jinn will ever bother Kulsoom, as she’s under the influence of greater jinn now!”  They both led a happy married life. She was a caring and loving wife.

Whenever dada discussed the interactions of jinns, with her, she left that place. If anyone asked her, about it, she would just give a sweet smile avoiding to share.

Actually, she was afraid, so avoided to talk about it. She was a very decent lady.

She loved her husband dearly. She gave birth to a son, Furqan’s father. Dadi passed away, to rest in heaven eternally. Furqan was raised by his father.

Furqan’s father was a civil servant. He was a busy man, always traveling.

Furqan was only a teenager of 14, 15 years of age, when his dada passed away. It was a great, unbearable loss for Furqan. Furqan felt like a wretched orphan, after his dada’s demise.  He was more close to his dada than his father.

The train was moving at very high speed. Station after station passed by swiftly, getting closer to Lahore.

Kulsoom came out of the room smiling, after two or three hours. “Kulsoom, what happened to you my dear?”  Mother, concerned and confused, at the same time, asked her. Kulsoom innocently relied, “What could happen to me mother. I was sleeping, you know it.”

“Don’t you remember anything Kulsoom?” mother asked her. Kulsoom seeing her mother upset, asked her, “Do tell me, mother please, what happened to me? Why are you so upset?”

“Don’t you remember anything, Kulsoom? You pushed me out of the room. Where did you get such power from? It’s terrible. I’m worried.”

“How can I push you mother? You think I can be so offensive and disobedient?”  Kulsoom felt very uncomfortable. She held her mother close, hugging her, with eyes filled with tears. Kulsoom was a very sweet natured and modest girl. She felt ashamed and awfully guilty, to know that she misbehaved with her mother. She kept asking for forgiveness repeatedly.

Days passed. Kulsoom went through the same situation, on and off. But she never remembered all that happened to her.

One day, Kulsoom was sitting near the flaming stove, cooking when she started behaving in the odd manner.  Her mother fearing she might not catch fire, while shaking and twitching, she tried to pull her away. Just then she heard the same coarse voice, “get your dirty hands away, from her. Don’t you see we have come here?”  Mother said, “I know very well, but with due respect, it’s better if you get inside the room. I fear she might not burn herself.” “Rest assured! Nothing can harm her, when we are with her.”  Her mother heard again, “would you to hear flute being played?”

“The flute? Yes why not, but, there’s no flute here.” Mother said.  Kulsoom, pointing to a small iron pipe making mockingly said, “Here’s the flute.”

The pipe turned into a snake charmer’s flute. Kulsoom, who was not Kulsoom, but a transformed being, played that flute, nonstop, for hours. Neighbors, hearing the melodious flute also gathered in their home. Kulsoom didn’t care for anything. She kept playing. The playing for so long, she got tired, fainted and fell on the floor. When she came back to normal, she didn’t remember anything.

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