TO THE outside world guns and bombs appear to be doing most of the talking in the Pashtun inhabited areas of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Considering the prevailing situation in the province, no one could be arraigned for believing so.

Hardly a day passes by without an incident of targeted killing – be it the polio vaccinators, the hapless policemen or those having volunteered themselves to work for peace. Bomb explosions have now lost the element of surprise, if not the acute sense of grief and agony associated with each such incident.

Most of the sad news emanate from the south of Peshawar, whether it is from the villages on the southern fringes of the capital city or the farther districts and tribal agencies.

But these acts of extreme cowardice have failed to silence the Pashtun singers who, whether young or old, still appear to be holding their ground in a manner as if they are challenging the sounds of the cannons with their vocal chords.

The fact that music is still echoing in the length and breadth of the southern districts gives one hope. One must not forget that south is the birthplace of the waltz-like dance called ‘atan’ which is a rage among Pashtun of all age groups.

‘Atan’ is performed with the wild beat of the drum in a circle on all occasions notwithstanding the fact that more often than not the theme of the accompanying song could be as poignant as the pathos induced by separation.

The momentum of the music keeps softening as one travels from south in the northerly direction until one reaches the villages in the immediate neighbourhood of Peshawar.

This journey of the music from fast beat to tiresomely slow is like a river that after gushing forth from its source slows and settles down once it reaches the sprawling valleys and plains.

A few days ago a television channel telecast a music session with an elderly singer named Ahmad Gul who in between playing some of his timeless songs reminisced about the music scene of the past.

The music show was a pleasant departure from the ordinary as the lady who hosted it looked to be decently composed apart from being fairly knowledgeable about the past and present singers of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa.

A vastly cheerful Ahmad Gul, assisted ably by his orchestra, related a number of anecdotes about late Ahmad Khan aka ‘Ahmaday’ who was a maestro of the slow genre in Pashto music with a huge fan following across the rural and urban divide. Ahmaday belonged to a respectable family and had adopted singing he loved no ends.

He was particularly famous for his soul songs, and his common refrain was ‘ya qurban,’ which he would at times stretch beyond the limits of endurance for his listeners waiting eagerly for the actual number to start.

Recalling Ahmad Khan’s singing and the disciplinarian regime that he had moulded around his profession, Ahmad Gul said that the former would at no cost relax the rules of the game he had set for himself. Ahmaday would stop his session when the clock struck the midnight hour at twelve.

‘Once while singing at a hujra of a formidable chieftain he called the session closed when the designated hour came and demanded his agreed upon payment,’ Ahmad Gul recounted an event with a smile that promised more suspense was in store for his rapt-in-attention audience.

‘When the chieftain insisted at gunpoint that music will continue, Ahmaday snatched the gun from his hands asking his companions to pack up as the former will collect the gun from his place after paying what was due from him,’ Gul beamed as if he had cracked a joke while completing the brief narrative.

Ahmad Gul with a small beard appears to be the kind of charming singer who can keep his listeners engrossed for hours.

He has a slightly gruff voice which lends an aura of authority to his singing especially when he sings: da tha che raze nu rasha, o ka na raze nu ma raza (if you wish to come then you may come and if you don’t wish to come then you may not).

It is the kind of theme that is found in the country songs of the Wild West in the US and it would indeed be most unusual not to expect the Pashtun singers singing in the same vein.

One recalls a more or less similar musical session composed of lovelorn Singers of the borderland country songs mixed with light banter at a sprawling farmhouse located on the bank of a dried-up river channel flowing out of Tarbela Dam.

The lead singer Kifayat Bacha sporting long strands of deeply oiled hair that covered his forehead in a baby-cut shape didn’t look one bit a rough outlaw. It was pretty painful thus to find out later his passion for singing had been consumed by simmering enmities leading to much bloodshed.

One of his favourite numbers that he would sing with share gumption was in praise of a girl of a public school that he had found himself enamoured with. Kifayat now appears to have gone into hiding thus putting to an end what could have been a most scintillating career for his many admirers.

One recently got introduced to another unlikely singer who if one has to go by appearance looks more like the head of a tribe of no mean considerations. But Fayyaz Kheshgi from Nowshera is indeed not only quite influential in his own right but also one of the handsomest singers in his middle-age group.

He has a deep masculine voice that he employs to maximum effect to let his singing ring around all corners of the enclave.

Due to his overindulgence in political and social activities, Fayyaz carries around his weight to command a musical gathering with near absolute authority.

The broad chubby-faced Khayyal Mohammad is perhaps the most successful of all Pashto singers. Khayyal always appeared to be the least intimidating, if not exaggeratedly docile and most pleasing. He was recently seen sporting a wig to cover his bald pate that did not go well with his larger than life persona.

With Khayyal music runs in the family as many members of his family could be found singing along with him. Same appears to be the case with Gulzar Alam, and a singer named Gulrez Tabassum who could not be seen these days although from the jovial way in which he used to sing he could have retained his youthful glamour for a long time to come.

With vaccination now being carried out under the shadows of guns, it is simply amazing how the Pashtuns are still playing their rababs and tablas in a land pulverized by bigotry. Full credit must then go to singers of the so called softer sex quite a few of whom have fallen to the assassins’ bullets.

So it is to the flamboyant Mahjabeen Qazalbash, the reticent Wagma, and the youthful Nazia Iqbal and to the ever-peaceful souls of Kishwar Sultana, Gulnar Begum, Aiman Udhas and Ghazala Javed of KP that one would like to dedicate this write-up to.