It is said that a musician named Bashira left his village and musician family to come to the city. He had always done the same work since birth. So, in the city too, he roamed around with a drum around his neck, wearing colorful clothes, shaking his long hair in a dance-like manner, and playing the drum incessantly. As everyone has their day, one day a music director hired him at his studio. From there, Bashira progressed to become the first assistant director and then gained fame as music director 'Ustad Bashir Khan' by establishing his own studio.
Time passed. Ustad Bashir's tunes became globally popular. His name being included in the music of films guaranteed success. His achievements reached from the Nagaar Award to the Medal of Excellence. The journey from Lolly to Bali and then to Holi was completed in minutes. He received nominations for the Oscars. He moved to America and then settled permanently. He married a foreign woman. Oxford awarded him an honorary doctorate. Ribbons were cut at fairs and exhibitions. He drafted in Ferraris and dived into swimming pools of five-star hotels. He traveled the world and received accolades. He was recognized in the UK as the voice of the East, in Japan as the reflection of Mahatma Buddha, and was declared a target in Afghanistan. Millions were wagered in casinos, and drugs were found in bags. An international clothing brand was introduced. He also established a chain of superstores under the name 'Chaudhry Bashir & Sons'.
Fifty years passed. Chaudhry Bashir's knees began to creak as he climbed stairs. His foreign wife also became like an old woman who drowned the 'Titanic' with 'Blue Heart' in the sea. Now Chaudhry Sahib remembered God. He performed Hajj, grew a snow-white beard, and started praying five times a day. He returned to his homeland and established a trust for humanitarian service. He preached and advised, conducting kidney operations for the poor during Ramadan. He decided to spend the rest of his life in his village. He built a mansion in the village, dug a well, established a school, and erected a tomb on his parents' grave with the inscriptions 'Ustad Haji Rasheed Khan (deceased)' and 'Hajjan Bibi Allah Bachai Khatoon (deceased)'. He built a mosque and a madrasa and began spending his final days in remembrance of God in the mansion.
You are his companion! In the village, the respect and authority of Chaudhry Bashir Khan is such that wherever he passes dressed in a starched suit and a tall turban, people bow and say 'Salam Chaudhry Sahib'. Important issues are announced in the courtyard of Chaudhry Sahib's mansion. Whether it is treating the poor, marrying off daughters, distributing school certificates, or election campaigns, everything was incomplete without Chaudhry Sahib's participation.
Then one day, Chaudhry Sahib's beautiful granddaughter came to visit him from America. She saw the village environment and culture for the first time, liked it, and decided to stay a few days. She went out in a car to roam outside the village when a minor accident occurred with a Prado. There was a discussion with the Prado occupant, introductions were made, friendship blossomed, and then love developed. The matter reached marriage. Chaudhry Sahib met the boy's father and inquired about his lineage. The answer was that his name is Chaudhry Farzand Ali. There is a landed estate in the neighboring village, and they are a wealthy and influential family. Chaudhry Sahib left the decision to the children. The rest of the family also came to the village. The date for the marriage was set. The mansion was decorated.
It was a wedding ceremony. The procession arrived. It was discovered that the girl's grandfather had come from the city. The grandfather sat next to Chaudhry Sahib. Introductions were made, some eyes met, some memories were dug up, and eventually, they recognized each other. It turned out to be an old acquaintance. 'Hey Bashira, you bastard! What kind of Chaudhry are you?' the question arose. 'Hey Bota Messiah! When did you become a Muslim?' came the reply. There was some bitter exchange: 'Hey son of a curse', 'Hey group of musicians', 'Hey you who feed on cats and dogs', 'Hey you, Shida, illegitimate offspring', 'Hey you bastard'... The attendees were watching in astonishment. The insults were such that they could shatter people's ablution. People were covering their ears and leaving.
There were tall turbans, starched suits, wealth, respect, social work, honorary degrees... but there was also verbal exploitation. There were tales of mothers abandoning their children to run away with lovers. There were stories of illicit relationships. Although it took Bashira the hereditary musician fifty years to become Chaudhry Bashir Khan, his downfall happened in five minutes. Everyone learned the lesson that whether it is a change of time and place or position and attire, whether one is placed in the seat of power or made a custodian of the pulpit and prayer niche by being perfumed, a person's essence never changes, and as soon as one opens their mouth, their true worth becomes evident.