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Dervishes’ Inn…Eleventh Dream


Eleventh Dream
Love and Dreams Never Let You Exhaust
18th May 2018

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It is holy month of Ramadan here. This is a busy month for Muslims as they perform religious rituals more vigorously than other months. The practice of fasting is found in almost all religions in form or the other. It should have taught patience, restraint and content, but it has not worked. The people around the globe seem busy like a bee, piling up wealth, edibles and resources. They take pride in consuming their energies into lustful pursuits.
Dervish had asked a ‘unique question’ in his last letter. Well Rabia cannot answer his question right away as she does not find herself focused now. Her world is divided into many segments. She does not find any space for herself. It was Friday yesterday. To get rid of monotonous night, Rabia went to sleep at about the crack of dawn. Her slumber took her to the journey of beautiful destinations. So, when Rabia awoke she felt refreshed. The feeling of lovingness and the dreams never let her tire. Had there been no dreams, the life would have been so hard.
In the last part of her dream Rabia was reminded a painful episode that occurred during last Ramadan. Whence a literary oppressor had tried to leash out his evil scheme over her. She was also shown as how the fellow himself fell into the ditch dug for Rabia. The devastation and defeat is inbuilt in any evil design. If this point is understood by people nobody would think badly of others. Someone asked Rabia Basri: “Have you ever seen, whom you worship to?” She replied: “Why would I worship, if I do not see him?” At times the eyes cannot see what is witnessed by visionaries. The life is a beautiful gift of nature and the solace is the most precious thing to have. They cannot be bought with money.
Dervish says he had never wished to become a father or start a family. Rabia asks: “When it first time occurred to him? What is the climax of love between man and a woman? Does the phenomenon of love exist in reality? From her observations, Rabia has concluded that; to a man, love is nothing more than bodily pleasure. He cannot even differentiate between lust and romance. Every man needs a sex partner in the garb of love. To Rabia the love is a complete package that holds all seasons of gloom and pleasures alike. Bearing such apprehensions in mind, Rabia is unable to trust men any more. She wishes to make a confession that Dervish’s question did make her sad, although she does not blame him for that. Rabia needs a nap. Dervish should pray that Rabia goes to a slumber. Sometimes one needs a prayer to have a sound sleep.
O Dervish! The month of May is quite scenic for the dwellers of Canal Bank in Lahore. Winds blow with music announcing the arrival of the summers. Rabia resides over the canal bank the street is called the Canal Street. Although there are not many trees left now yet they are enough to embrace the winds of summers and provide a soothing shade under them. In the evening the scene over the Canal is marvelous. One wishes the time should come to a standstill.
These days, numerous underpasses have been built on canal bank road to allow flow of traffic coming from tangent roads. If you stand on any of these underpass bridges, you can see the lines of trees on either side of the canal. The trees look like conversing to each other. They at times look mourning and wailing over the sad demise of their fellows who were slaughtered to widen the canal bank road. Sometimes in quiet moments Rabia too joins them. She also recalls her sweet childhood memories, her walks with baba under the trees that no more exist. Rabia has witnessed the natural wilderness as well as the modern materialism dwelling on the old friendly road. She recalls old serenity and solace and sees the present fast polluting and noisy ambience prevailing over this once naturally scenic road. Rabia has witnessed the affection in the eyes of people who once visited the canal bank. Now, she sees the traders all along. Few of them are into the business of literature. They are literary Pharaohs of this time. One of them came across her recently. She wishes to narrate the story to Dervish but finds no vigor left for it. Rabia therefore requests a leave from Dervish.
Rab Rakha (God be the protector).

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