Graveyards are not to be fascinated
Graveyards are not to be fascinated…
really! What these are for then?
to fear (what’s coming)…
The dialogue is the prologue from the OST of a Pakistani drama Shehr-e-Zaat. The soundtrack is peculiar in that a number of sequences are shot in Makli Hill, one of the largest necropolises in the world. Starting with this tantalizing phrase of being fearful of what lies approaching, the theme song goes further and craftily tricks you into deciphering Love, in absolute contrast to the visual focus that stays on rhythmic shots of Makli graveyard. In a way, the approach adopted in the soundtrack resembles to the treachery of love; with all its dreads and ills it comes upon you creating a fascinating paradigm. Love that is charming, luring and attractive is eventually encountered to be a frightful commotion.
My apologies, for sounding dramatic about love that is otherwise perceived to be a beautiful and lightweight emotion. My readers would agree that love, in its true essence is submitting your will and that puts you at a disadvantage to start with. Love in its superlative degree is considered divine and divine love, dear reader, is nothing but the ultimate submission of free will. I shall no more be an obstruction to let my readers enjoy the Shehr-e-Zaat OST…
Makli Necropolis is one of the largest in the world that exists on the periphery of Thatta, the capital of primeval Sind. Covering a vast area of more than 8 kms in diameter, it’s home to the graves of rulers as well as those ruled by them in varying periods of Sind history between 13th and 17th century ACE. I was inspired to visit the place through the powerful theme depicted in the said sound track. Locations were ideally picked to match the lyrical illustrations and I must admit, it was like floating through a dual symphony of discovering the essence of love while roaming in a graveyard that was also a site of archaeological interest.
Love is mesmerizing; it absorbs the lover into an unrelenting trail of seeking yaar (a notion of the beloved becoming as innate as one’s own self). Love devolves you into the illusion of seeking your own self everywhere around you, in all the absolute and relative directions. It’s a game of hide and seek in pursuit of something that is obvious now and would get completely obscured the very next instance. It so resembles a grave that is perceived to be the existence of a being who in reality exists no more…
The role levied in the affairs of love is the sole decider of one’s fate. For a lover getting fatefully selected into seeking the beloved, nothing is spared but a uni-polar world. Conversely, for the beloved, there’s an entire universe of options and probabilities. In the same arena where the lover gets consumed by the affairs of love, the beloved is there to stay and shine. Grave is a typical milepost in the uni-polar journey towards eternity, the only thing that is certain, relegating all other worldly affairs to mere options and probabilities.
Life plays its tricks in segregating the notables from the ordinary, but graves syndicate them into unison at one abode. Graveyards remind of the eternal unity the humanity is tied to and yet very few reckon that… Love is even trickier a drama when it comes to role assignments. It fits the throne on the beloved’s crown and relegates the lover to the abyss of self-worth. Love brings you to the forefront of self-conscience and only the sage would bear the truth. It bonds the ordinary with the privileged and in that love performs the true miracle…
We all admire ourselves, both openly and in secret, and once we seek love, we are out there with our innate desire to be loved. Love blesses the beloved with vanity and attitude… love affairs are in fact about vanity and attitude…
It’s a tragedy on the lover’s part, to stay engulfed in the never ending pain of love. It’s a tragedy for the heart to seek things that are unusual, through methods that are even strange. Love is a tragic saga where you are tempted towards passion, then invited to seek love, and when nothing comes your way, you get disbursed by the wish to altogether eliminate the very component of desire.
Love and the graves, dear reader, are identical; they consistently dread us of what lies ahead, yet we are destined to embrace them both.
