Posted on 09/16/2011 6:20:12 PM PDT by Brian_Baldwin
Before Islam in Arabia, there was an art expression in poem and song called the golden box, the Golden Odes, the poetry and song of the Arabic Qasidah. But in fact, it was even older than one can imagine. And, inside this golden box was found the simple, but yet complex, story of morality, the comedy, the boastful, mournful pine, a call to the land of birth, travel afar, the pain of separation, ardent love, solitude and the rhapsody.
These palms, poetry and song, they were not the story of a Bedouin -- in fact the Bedouin is not found. We look deep into it and see the ancient Near East, we go back to the time of the Babylonian, the Syrian, the Iraqi. The beginnings of Arabic literature did not come from nowhere, but from those days from long, long ago.
This is where something called the ghazal came from. By the time of Islam, it was a treasure that could not be lost even to God, that it continued to flower in the 600’s AD into the 800’s AD. Then it spread into India, where it was even further improved into something very special. Many of different religious faiths would learn and express themselves through the ghazal, the love poem, the song. India from that point on carried the banner.
Of course, the ghazal remained an important social media of Muslims in India and in Pakistan to this day. It is considered “classical” by all faiths of the region.
So it is taught to little children. In hopes of their one day, perhaps, becoming a great artist in poem or song. In hopes of becoming famous, and even an icon, or even rich.
There is a boy, whose name 99% of anyone who participates in this forum has never heard of. And of course, why would they? For most of us, we have no interest in ghazal.
But you may want to just remember this name, of a boy in India. He is Muslim. As with such boys, they often begin with learning the ghazal.
But with him, it really isn’t all about that. This boy is a prodigy.
There is no question about it.
No matter what his background, no matter where he came from – he is a prodigy. A voice. A singer. And, it is very likely, one day he will be famous all over the world.
His name is Azmat Hussain. He can sing any sort of song. Of course, his perfection is singing in the traditions of India, of all flavors of song from that culture. Not just a ghazal, but anything, anytime, anywhere, he is a prodigy.
If given a chance to sing like Frank Sinatra – well, give him a few more years, he can do it right now, and even better still in a few more years. I don’t think he can sing in English. But one day he will.
Here is his picture (below). He is the boy playing the accordion keyboard. Do not judge him because he is a Muslim. You will see him again, one day. He is a very special boy. Mark my words.
There is a darkness in Pakistan. But he isn’t from there. And he isn’t darkness. In fact, if Pakistan wants to again enter into the world of light, look to this boy.
/johnny
Absolutely beautiful singing of very very difficult rhythm and melody, and I learned a lot from reading this and following the leads. Thank you for posting this.
Sounds like someone strangling a cat underwater.
Must be a cultural thing.
Azmat is who we call when there is a dangerous chemical spill.
Kid sounded like a makeshift horn on the local gutwagon with no muffler on a bumpy road....
Yep... I’ve heard that noise before !
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