The legend of a "Slave-girl" (part 2)

Friday, February 4, 2011

This is the second part of the story "The legend of a slave-girl". For the first part please read The legend of a slave-girl (Part 1)

“As the time went by the voice which echoed the meadows and the valley got more enthusiastic, spreading waves of passion wherever it reached. The slave-girl, more hopeful than before, desired for something which could soothe her voice and increase merriness in her songs. She could sense the revolution she always craved for, stirring right in front of her eyes. This intensified her tone, and her expression started dispersing more colors than before.”

Full moon was shedding its silver light on the valley and its nearby mountains, creating an enchanting ambiance. In the heart of the stretch of low-lying mountains was a cliff inhabited by a group of twelve, where two youngsters could also be seen. Dressed in the trendiest attires of the day, the youngsters were travelers from plain areas. The rest of the company exhibited from their clothing and manner towards life that they were middle-aged men of quality tastes, as far as the dressing went. A few small tents and a little bonfire gave finishing outlooks of a typical hunting group, with of course their hunting rifles positioned as a pile on one side of a tent. In this backdrop an old man from the group was narrating a legend which once used to be very famous among the residents of the area, but its fame seemed dwindling now. No voice other than that of the old man could be heard which might give an idea to an observer that the company was isolated from all the worldly affairs.

“The king and his monopoly had crippled common men economically. Those with private businesses were already at the mercy of the authorities. Now was the time for the cultivators to sow and reap according to what the masters willed. No hardship was paid for and the once seemingly just king, who would only exchange for ideas, was now after anything possessed by the inhabitants of the area.

“But why couldn’t the population just get up and fought for their rights?” questioned the young girl.

“The survival of every individual was at stake but little could be expected from the ones who were already deprived of their spirits. The attack to the values and beliefs of a population is always so potent” answered a man with brown moustaches, who was one of the ten men gathered at the top of the cliff.

The old man produced a sound as if to attract all of them to himself, and then continued,

“Young men usually have high spirits. When the old surrendered, seven youths who had just passed their college decided to guard the interest of their people. They believed in discussions with those in power and stood for protecting the basic rights of their people. It was a blow to the plans of the king and his ministry who never expected that out of the cultivated youth would step up people who concerned for the sick, poor and needy and wanted to work for their welfare. The slave-girl, on the other hand, got all the sparks of hope glittering in her songs, adding color to the lives of many around her. All of a sudden she felt herself free, free to live according to what she believed in. Freedom brought her more hope and courage and the urge to smell the flower of her dreams increased drastically.

The king would never let his monopoly suffer; hence he decided to use his last card in order to bring conditions under his control. Famous for being against the use of force to settle matters, he came up with a new strategy against his opponents. The king asked the inhabitants of the area to nominate their own minister, who would work under his command and the reforms introduced by the minister could help the economy, grow. The seven youngsters looked for a name which could gain trust of the people, while being steadfast in its own right. Slave-girl was the only person who had already shown extreme steadfastness in safeguarding the values of her people. Fully aware that the situation was difficult to be controlled from internal sources, the king transferred authority to the slave-girl, who undertook it as her mission to bring back the happiness and prosperity of her people. The team of seven took their message all across the area, urging people to stand up in order to carve a bright future. The message of love and harmony echoed in the voice of the slave-girl and all those who heard her songs could find no escape from its influence.

Nobody knows what spell stirred all the inhabitants to work their maximum. The produce and trade crossed all barriers of heights previously reached. All the nearby areas including other regions ruled by their king lost their economic importance, and soon the land breathed in fresh air of freedom, when the king’s inability got evxposed from the performance of the new ministry. Their values and beliefs got restored and men became their own masters.
The seven youngsters did not want the epic to end here. With a message as universal as theirs, they could not feel satisfied before there was any poor or needy left on any land. For this they had to depart from their beloved land, just to ensure that every individual on mother-Earth lives a comfortable life.

On the moonlit night of their departure, the whole population came to bid them farewell. The slave-girl could be seen standing on the nearby hills, singing the songs she always sung keeping the spirits of her people high. It was the slave-girl who was no longer enslaved by the tyrannies of others or the desires of her own self. She had smelled the flower she had always craved for. Now when flower was departing it left an everlasting fragrance behind, and made the slave-girl its slave. This was the slavery achieved at the height of freedom. The legend says that she spent the rest of her years here on these mountains, looking out for the love of her life, and living in its fragrance, forever.”

The old man had tears in his eyes, while ending the long narration of a story revolving around simple values of life.

“In our times, youngsters would gather on these mountains on the night of Full moon, to honor the legend and the slave-girl. Lightening candles or lamps is the traditional way of doing so” said the man with grey-ish hairs addressing the youngsters, with a twinkle in his eye as if reliving his prime days.

The man with black curly hairs stretched his arms, adding

“No doubt the tale is touchy but where is such optimism in the world today. Economic issues can not be addressed so dramatically as this. Common man has got no power. Where food is the basic necessity of life, why not trade values for food?”

“Food can keep the body of a person living, what about the soul? Where is the food for soul going to come from?” interrupted the youngest of the men.

“And my question is that what is wrong with leaving values and beliefs behind? It is the matter of an individual to decide. What has the whole population to do with shared values?” a man wearing a brown leather-jacket put forward. The old man went furious at his response and flashed the discussion to a heated argument by further adding

“What can a person or a nation depend upon, if they are deprived of their own values? Surely they will be a mass with no life in it, and such masses are waste for the cycle of nature!”

“Lifeless? Oh no, haven’t you seen the youth of today? They are so energetic and full of life, despite seemingly ignoring their values. They dress up in an alien way and they talk in a fashion not belonging to us." man in brown leather-jacket replied.
"Yes, yes! Aren’t they the ones who don’t show interest in the tales like 'the legend'? Do you consider them dead…?” pointed the man with curly hairs towards the stones where the two youngsters were seated.

And all the men looked with their jaws ajar and eyes gone wide, as they could set eyes on two earthen-lamps fighting against the currents of air so as to keep blazing. The youngsters were nowhere to be seen.

This sight left the men in much surprise, making them motionless, before some kind of a force compelled all of them to search for anything that could be lit. Some got candles; others used wood kept for the bonfire. In a matter of no time there could be seen twelve lights coming from the top of the mountain. The moonlight went more intense than before and the bonfire was also producing much light. In spite of all this brightness, the two small earthen lamps seemed to envelope the whole atmosphere and dominated any light in the area.

Far away on another cliff, with the full moon at their back a young couple could be seen hand in hand, walking together, towards a light coming from an unknown source. The mountains heard a voice they were so familiar with, and a song which originated in their bosom.

O’ you who live in the fleeting time,

Give ear to my eternal rhyme

Foster your ego with zeal and pride

And drape it with hope so bright

Beget and spread the aurora of love

Uniting the whole mankind as one

Hand in hand, we may move on

To a beautiful epoch awaiting us


Urooj Malik said...

Namrah, you have so beautifully narrated the whole story and depicted the message in a brilliant way, and the poem is so beautiful and rhythmic, also the number of seven youngsters has some insights in it.

Namrah Mahmood said...

Thank you so much for your appreciation Urooj :)
Your own skills are wonderful and perhaps u can help guide me so as to improve my expression. :) Thank you again.
Please keep coming!

Akhtar Wasim Dar said...

Sometimes it is the writing style that fascinates the reader, sometimes the potent message, sometimes the story, sometimes the beauty of expression, “The legend of a slave girl” had all of them. It has a very convincing style, a wonderful message, an invigorating natural expression and a wonderful story. It is a motivational and inspiring piece of splendid writing Namrah.

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