Language of the Heart

Pakhtun women use music to express emotions they cannot put into words

Throughout history, one finds a strong presence of music in man's culture. Music, which ahs always acted as an outlet for emotions and feelings, is an effective form of communication even in those societies where women may not be otherwise free to express their feelings. Pakhtun women, for instance, who abstain from openly expressing their feelings in public, are uninhibited while rendering a song or a "zaarah" (funerary lament). During such informal performances, a woman acts as a singer, poet, and director all at the same time. The performance is mostly impromptu, for instance at a death ceremony. Through expressing themselves in a creative way, the women are able to replace some of their pent up feelings in words or actions. The narratives could be in the form of a birth song, work song, songs of bravery, a healing chant, wedding songs, lullaby and funerary laments.

In Bajaur, the Khan or the village chief's wife has many maidservants to run a large household. Most of them are either divorced, abandoned by the family, or widows. These women, called mazdooray (female workers) consider the Khan's house a place of refuge. In return, they perform household chores. First thing in the morning, after the men of the household leave, all these women surround the village chief's wife and start singing to the accompaniment of tambourines. The songs are about the battles won by the village chief against his enemies. The women play the duff animatedly as they chant powerful verses in praise of the Khan's valour.

There is a famous Pashto saying, "Maray pa Jara Toad Wi, Ao Wada pa Lobo Toad Wi" (A death ceremony becomes interesting when there is wailing and a wedding warms up with songs and music)

It is generally believed that the more openly people show their sorrow at a death ceremony, the more respect the deceased gets. Therefore, while rendering a "zaarah", a woman should be able to make the other women cry. At weddings, women who can sing well come forward, and at death ceremonies, women who are good at making other women cry through their impromptu narrative are in great demand. A Zaarah - also called an 'Astai' in some parts of the NWFP, is spontaneous, yet it is presented in such a manner that it sounds like a poetic piece that is set to a particular rhyme. It has a proper beginning, with a middle where all the details of the incident are narrated and finally the climax, which is meant to make the audience cry. All such narratives are performed aloud for everyone to hear. The women always perform these, whereas the men are responsible for the funeral arrangements. In a funerary lament, a woman is often  encouraged to express her sorrow.

A rural woman from Swat, whose 17 year old son died in an accident, led a "zaarah" like this:

I had gone to collect water
I heard some crows crowing
I knew it was a bad omen
Oh! God!
Upon returning home
I got the tragic news of my
Son's death
Oh! God!
Life has become unbearable
I am only left with two grown up daughters
I thought I was lucky to have been blessed with a son
My joy did not last. My life has ended

Along with other details, the mother of the deceased also laments the fact that life without a male child would become very difficult. In Pakhtun rural areas, as in many other parts of Pakistan, giving birth to a male child elevates a woman's status.

At the birth of a male child, the village women of Srikot in Hazara sing a traditional birth song called "takey":

May the baby grow up
May he be able to kill chickens
Give us our chicken
May he be able to climb trees
Give us our chickens

In rural areas of the NWFP, "nazar" or the evil eye is considered one of the main factors leading to different catastrophes or ailments. It is believed that in order to treat this, only an "izaaja" or a healing chant can prove effective. So a village woman chants these words:

By the will of God
By the grace of Quran
Evil eye cast by black eyes and green eyes
By relatives and strangers
By mother and father
Break, break, and break.

Through folk music, village women are able to express themselves in a way that is culturally acceptable, although it may contradict the strict rules of Pardah.

In Bajaur, where the tribal women are rarely visible in public places, there are events where exceptions are made to the rules, when men stay inside and a swarm of women openly dances and sings on the roads.

I had been waiting for one such event that was to take place in Dairakai, in Bajaur. It was difficult to imagine the "akhtar mela" (Eid Festival) as a festival exclusively for women. On the main Khaar Road, decked up women were walking along with "tambals" (tambourines) in their hands, singing and dancing. The traffic would patiently wait for them to pass. The rugged atmosphere in Bajaur was lent warmth and colour by the presence of women making merry, singing and dancing on their way to the shrine. The festival was taking place along the main Salarzai road at a shaded spot. Crammed here were more than a thousand women. Their dance steps would create clouds of choking dust, which failed to dampen their spirits. Songs sung in praise of the holy man buried there went on till late afternoon.

It is believed that the spirits of the holy men are fond of celebrations and music, thus providing a perfect opportunity for women to express themselves in a creative manner.

On another occasion in Srikot, a village perched upon the top of a mountain in Hazara, women find a way to enact a role that is temporarily ascribed to them. It is a marriage ceremony, where women are accompanied by a young boy playing the dhol, and are heading towards the bride's house to perform certain customs. They prefer to go by foot, crossing the roads, houses, and graveyards, swirling and twirling with the rhythmic beat of the dhol. They are singing songs of love and merriment. The women perform different kinds of traditional dances such as "kumbar" and "bulbula". These dances start with women forming a large circle, accompanied by their clapping, synchronised with the movement of the feet. As the dance progresses, the beat of the dhol increases in temp, and most of the women drop out, as they find themselves unable to keep up with the rising temp. Thus the slow, but graceful movements of the dance now transform into a well drilled, fast moving dance in which the participants break up, forming different patterns. In bulbula, too, women click their fingers, clap their hands, moving by half turns. Swirling around, they accelerate their movement to keep pace with the beat of the dhol, no matter how fast it is.

Tradition and culture are simultaneously recreated and reaffirmed by women through different forms of folk art. Even as they express feelings of anxiety, love, sorrow, and mirth, these women act as a preservers of an art that reflects their culture and traditions.

Source: KhyberOrg

بېرته شاته