Remembering Maher

In one of my past lives, I was born in a small kingdom in Central Asia. Since then, the map has changed so much that it is not even realistic to try to connect that old kingdom to the current nation.

I was the only child. Following our family roots, I became a shepherd. As a young boy, I used to go around helping my father take care of the herd. When I was ten, he suddenly fell seriously ill. I assumed control of the herd and in an awkward way my family, too. My mother was very hard-working; she used to help me with my herd as much as she could. I was not very good at taking care of the newborns, so they were my mother’s responsibility. My mother took care of them as if they were human babies. She never short-changed them from their mothers’ milk.

While growing up, I really did not have any sense of rich and poor. The other families in our village were in a similar economic condition. We lived by trading our products. We got our food and clothing by trading our goat and sheep milk. The winter season was rough. The herd could not graze, so I had to go to a nearby village to get their special winter feed. We had a stream going through our village. Since we all drank the water from the stream, we were not allowed to bathe the herd there. During the grazing season, I took my herd to a small lake down the hill.

Our village was surrounded by beautiful rolling hills. Because of the low-rise soft green vegetation, we called them the Velvet Mountains. In late spring, they looked as if they were laden with real hand-crafted exotic velvets. We celebrated the advent of the spring with a gala festival. People from far and wide would come to the festival with colorful new commodities to trade. I used to wait all year long for the festival. It was a joyous moment for all of us.

I would take the herd up the hills in the morning, spend the day there and get back at dusk. That was my daily routine. Of course, I was aided by my two sheep dogs. They used to save me a lot of aggravation by running around and keeping the herd together. They were such a great help! They ate what I ate, so my mother packed enough food for all three of us. After lunch, they would run down to the stream for a drink of water and then immediately run back up the hills as if they were the flat lands. They knew they had their work cut out for them. They had no time to fool around with other neighborly dogs.

After my father got sick, he would stay home. He could not walk up the hills. He needed some special herbs and oils to treat his illness. Every now and then I would go to the village quack to trade milk for my father’s herbs and oils. The quack was mean and ugly, but we all needed him. My parents were very soft and kind people. I never saw them argue. In fact, my father accepted whatever my mother suggested. Our neighbors used to say that my parents’ match was made in heaven. Other villagers often came to my father to settle disputes. In return, they would later drop off some fresh produce. That came in handy during the winter. My mother would feed the excess produce to the herd. That saved me many trips around the village. I disliked unnecessarily running around in cold weather. Some winters were literally brutal. The trimmer would come in summer to trim the herd and bring back the wool in fall. My mother then made all kinds of colorful woolen outfits for us. She would also put something together for the little ones in the herd.

My best friend was Maher, the shepherd of another herd. In fact, she was my only friend. She was a fairy tale girl. She would go around and dance with her herd all day long. The dogs would follow her around as if they were also participating in her dance. She was very fond of the little ones in her herd. Sometimes she would round up all the little ones from both herds and teach them to dance along with her. The little ones would fall on each other, get up and again follow her around. It was a spectacular sight. She was never tired, never unhappy. I learned to compose songs and sing – perhaps that was the only talent God had given me. We gradually became very fond of each other. She loved to hear me sing. And I loved to see her dance. In the midst of our song and dance, the day would simply fly. We were the two happiest beings on earth.

I thought the mountains also loved having her. At dusk, while dancing down the narrow roads, she would zigzag from one edge to the other. Her hands would go up and down, hair bouncing and flora flapping all over her face. From the top of the mountains, she looked like an angel leading the way. After reaching the bottom of the mountains, she would look back at the mountains and throw her hands up to say ‘good night.’ At that very moment, even the mountains looked melancholic; as if they did not want their princess to leave.

One spring, we were getting ready to celebrate the annual festival. We all had to chip in to make it a success. My job was to get water from the stream. To keep the morning crowd happy, I had to fetch water at night too. Maher used to give me a hand in carrying the buckets up. It was a full-moon night. Maher and I were walking down the hills towards the stream. She looked as beautiful as ever. I asked her if I could hold her hand. She reacted, “You are not supposed to hold my hand. My mom said I am a grown up girl now.” I refrained.

One year our village went through a terrible ordeal. A severe stomach disease broke out and in matter of weeks it wiped out many people, of all ages. Our family was unaffected, but Maher got very sick. Her condition steadily deteriorated to a point when even the quack asked her mother to be ready for the inevitable. During that time I used to take care of her herd and visited her every evening. She looked increasingly pale. I tried to cheer her up, but she was way too weak to respond. I was frightened inside, but did not let her know. One morning I went to get her herd. Her mother came out and said to me, “She asked for some milk today.” After that, she gradually recovered. The quack called it a miracle.

Once she started to feel better, she came back with her herd. I could see the joy not only in the eyes of the herd, but it was as if the mountains, the trees, the birds and the beasts also rejoiced. Their princess was back. Perhaps I was the happiest of all. I was delighted to get back to our fairy tale life. When she was ill, I composed a couple of new songs for her. I was getting better at it too. She loved my new songs. She danced along. I could see, she had regained her glow, her spontaneity. I could not thank the Lord enough for sparing her life.

One morning, as I was getting ready to take the herd out my mother came out and asked me to sit down by her. I was a bit surprised. She started, “Son, Maher is not going to be out with her herd anymore. Please do not try to meet her.” I asked why. She continued, “The Prince from the Kingdom has decided to marry her.” I was stunned. “Did she agree to marry him too?” I asked. My mother stood up and said, “No. But that does not matter. Nobody disobeys the royal family. Again, please do not try to reach her. We will all be burnt alive. I understand your emotions, but you will get over. Time heals.” For a while, I felt numb. I was in a state of disbelief. Then I picked myself up and walked off with the herd.

As I was walking up the mountain roads, I could see her dancing, her hands going up and down, hair bouncing, and flora flapping all over her face. Upon reaching the top of the mountain, I sat down. I started to feel very lonely. I wondered if I would ever see her again. Suddenly, tears started to come out of my eyes like a fountain. My dogs were also very quiet. They knew something was terribly wrong with me. They started licking my face and neck to make me feel good. I hugged them and then broke down in tears. I felt as if the sky was coming down on me. The little ones were running all around. I knew they were looking for her. They kept coming back and staring at me. I tried to tell them that their princess was gone. Forever!

That evening when I returned home, my father called me in his room. He hugged me and said, “I know what you are going through. I deeply sympathize with you. But our hands are tied. I wish there was a way. None. Just none. Don’t do anything silly. They will hunt you down and they will kill us, too.” I accepted.

Soon they were married. She was not allowed to visit her parents. No one was ready to talk about her. I went on with my daily routine. I tried not to think about her.

A few years later, one morning there was loud knock on our front door. I saw two dressed up men. My father said they were the royal guards and they wanted to talk to me. I was scared to death. They asked me to come with them. I could not ask why. My parents stood still. I followed them into a carriage and the horses set out. After two days we reached the palace where the king and the queen lived. I felt completely out of place there. I had not seen anything like that before. All men were dressed up in funny clothes. The guards took me to a room inside the palace. Before leaving, they asked me to wear the new clothes kept on the bed. Someone brought some food for me. I was in no mood for food. I was thinking of my parents. I knew they would be worried to death, yet I had nobody to talk to.

The guards came back and asked me to follow them. We walked through a long hall and then crossed a vast courtyard. We finally arrived at the dome where the King spent the day. We all walked up to the King and saluted him. The King greeted us and then said to me, “I heard you are a great singer. Queen Maher wants to learn music from you.” In a trembling voice, I replied, “Your Majesty, I do not know anything about music. I just learned to sing some street songs. You must be thinking of some other person. I am totally unqualified.” The King remarked, “But Queen Maher has a very high opinion of your talent. You will be working with her every evening. She will tell you what she needs. You will be gainfully provided for. And your parents and the herd will also be taken care of.” The King left. I wanted to run back to my regular life, but there were guards all around.

The next evening the guards took me to an exquisite room in the garden. The room had a gorgeous dome of colorful glasses. I was asked to sit on a large cushion on the floor. It was so clean and beautiful that I was very uncomfortable to step in. Suddenly I heard a loud holler from outside, “Her Highness Queen Maher is here. All rise.” I stood up. Queen Maher walked in and sat in front of me. The guards closed the doors and stayed in by the doors. As I saluted her, she saluted me back saying, “Teacher, thank you for accepting my request. However, I apologize for the circumstances.” I was scared to look at her. I kept staring at the dome. She remarked, “I want to refine my dexterity in dancing. I will dance to your songs.” She asked the guards to leave the room. They left the room, but kept the doors wide open. She then asked me to sing one of the songs I composed for her during her illness. I had not sung in years. I was quite rusty. I knew I had no choice, so I started. In a little while, I regained my old momentum. She also looked stunningly beautiful in her regal outfit and striking ornaments. She danced around the room. She had not lost her old touch. It was a magnificent scene. We went on for a while when a young lady walked in and reminded the Queen that it was getting late and the King was waiting.

One night, in the middle of a song, the Queen suddenly stopped and sat down. She looked very tired. I wanted to call it a night and leave the room. She looked at me and said, “Can you please call me Maher? Just once. I will never ask you again.” I was terrified. She insisted. I kept ignoring. She lost control and raised her voice, “For old time’s sake, why can’t you please me once?” The guards rushed in. Someone hit me brutally on my head.

When I regained conscious, I found myself lying down on a pool of blood in a dark cell.

Days went by. I had no contact with the outside world. I did not see any sunlight. It felt like ages. My body was getting eaten up by the insects. I knew my days were numbered. One day two guards suddenly opened the cell door and ordered me out. I was too weak to act. They carried me out. I was not used to the sunlight, so my eyes were blinded. They put me on a horse cart and drove me to a playground. I was made to sit in front some wise-looking people. Behind them, the King and the Queen were sitting in a decorated podium. One of the wise-looking men pointed at me and yelled, “You prisoner, we are here to decide your fate. You have committed a crime against the King and the Kingdom. Above all, you have violated our beloved Queen. Do you understand?” I had nothing to say. I did not care to answer. Another man shouted, “Do you understand, prisoner?” As I was getting restless in pain, one of them again pointed at me and asked me to stand up. Then he said, “We have reached our verdict. Do you understand?” I nodded again. Then he read the verdict, “You will be stoned by the people until death.” I sat there like a stone. In fact, I was happy to get the death sentence. I was tired of rotting in that cell and getting eaten away by the insects. I just wished it was a little less violent and painful. “Do you have anything to say about our verdict?” asked one of them. In my weak voice I said, “Yes.” I then continued, “What is the crime?” I was immediately thrown back on the horse cart. A loud laughter followed.

I was waiting for my execution. Nobody was ready to talk to me. One day, after throwing the food on the floor, the guard told me that my death sentence was reduced to a life in the prison. I was very unhappy. I could not bear the suffering anymore. Time passed and I was getting weaker by the day. I slept most of the time. Even the guard’s presence hardly woke me up. I started vomiting blood frequently. I realized I was very close to death.

“His Majesty wants to see you,” the guard said. He then picked me up on his shoulder and took me inside the palace. He placed me by a bed. The King was lying down on the bed. The King then slowly held my hand and said, “My dear singer, please sing a song for me.” I realized he was in his death bed, too. So I did not want to deprive him of his last pleasure. I struggled for a while to get some air in my lungs. Then I started singing one of his very favorite songs. I saw a smile in his face. Half-way through the song, his hand separated. I also could not carry on any longer. My head dropped. My hands were laid still, circling his feet. I heard a whisper, “The King was slowly poisoned.” I could smell some fresh flowers. I tried to open my eyes bigger to see the Queen one last time. I could not.

Someone softly closed my eye-lids. Someone who perhaps cared…

Suddenly it was bright. Very bright. I could see everything clearly. I was sitting under a tree and singing on the Velvet Mountains. Maher was dancing to my songs. I kept staring at her. She was blushing. I could see some tears in her eyes. The little ones from our herds were chasing her. Her hands were going up and down, hair bouncing, and flora flapping all over her face. She started dancing down the mountain, leading the way like an angel.

Again, it turned dark. Very dark.