The Qawwal and the Smugglers (By the Interfaith Youth Team)

My grandfather recounts an old story regarding smugglers near his home many years ago (Contrary to his other tales, this one was only shared once, so I can’t recall the specific location where this occurred; maybe it's better that way). Every Friday, hours after Jumma prayer and separating elaichi’s from hearty mutton biryani, a group of smugglers would descend to the shipping port, from where they would smuggle in heaps of silver. The cops took note of the pattern, but this was a different time. The force was weak in muscle and funds.

“This is the best part, son! Listen closely to how smart these buggers are.”

Those cops, with the remaining bits of treasury in their coffers, invited all the best Qawwals to the town. The damn best combination of singers that had ever been collected only!

The smugglers heard about the great event on that soft Friday night, and for the love of the art form, its spirituality and tenderness, they disregarded their crooked duties and swung their heads side to side from Isha until Fajr. The cops seized a great amount of silver, the biggest win they had against the cronies for years.

When I heard the story, after the customary laughs and sighs, I thought the following: If music, great music, those tunes that really bring blood to one’s heart, can allow smugglers to forget their duty, what other powers can it bring? Peace between brothers? An amelioration of conflicts? For now, I’m still pondering the answer. I’ve attached one of my favorite Qawwali recordings that is helping me do so. I hope the same unto you.