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parts of the Universe are used for their creation. When one combines
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When Life Begins --------- ---------
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When Life Begins ---------
the colours of flowers, the delicacy of wind, drift of the rivers,
steadiness of the earth, sparkle of the stars, scent of the blooms, light of
the moon, rays of the sun, evenness of the sky, height of the peaks and
depth of the valleys, only then, a Maiden of the Paradise is created.
Their splendour meets the ultimate scale of beauty. They are tall
and fair with a golden complexion. Their skin is flawless from top to
bottom. Their eyes are large and dark but they change their colour to
match any dress. Their eyebrows are smooth and eyelashes long. They
keep their gaze lowered but when they look up, that look goes through
the heart like an arrow. Their faces are worthy of reading like a book,
foreheads are wide, cheeks have a reddish hue, noses are straight, lips
are delicate as rose petals, their teeth shine like pearls, and when they
speak, their words have the sweetness of honey. Their hair is shiny, soft
as silk, and dark in contrast to their fair colour, and extends to their
calves. Their voices are sweet and melody to the ears, their words are
like showers of pearls and their smiles can brighten up a day. Their
bodies smell of the fragrance of modesty while their breaths have a
beautiful aroma. The velvet dresses on their perfumed bodies and the
shinning jewellery that adorns them give the appearance of the full
moon playing hide and seek with the clouds.”
“Have you ever seen them?” I asked.
“No. No one has ever seen them; like others, I have only heard
about them and I am narrating what I have heard to you.”
He then continued his discourse but turned to poetry to describe
their beauty further:
I have heard when she speaks; words take the shape of flowers
If that were so, then come, let us go and try to talk to her
I have heard at night the moon stares at her throughout
That stars descend from their heights to have a peek at her
I have heard in the day butterflies tease her on her form
And at night fireflies stop and gaze at her
I have heard her eyes are like those of a gazelle, enough to kill with
a look
And that deer of the whole forest come to steal a peek at her
I have heard her black eyes are enough to bring the world to its end
Thus, the kohl sellers heave a sigh at their loss looking at her
I have heard since she has started wearing ornaments
The mood of the jewels has changed to great pride
I have heard that the shape of her body is such
That the flowers shorten their petals to peek from behind
When she stops, all movements revolve around her
And when she walks, time stops to have a look at her
Even if these are all fables, all figments of imagination
Even if she is a dream, let’s see if we can turn it into reality
As Saleh kept on speaking tirelessly, I started at his face in silence.
When he had finished reciting the poetry, I said:
“Your words seem to be an exaggeration, a story, or a dream. Yet, I
must say that even if it is a dream, it is a beautiful dream!”
“This dream has not ended yet. The physical make up of a Maiden
of Paradise is like a winding brook that begins its journey as snow in the
thick, dark clouds in the sky. Staying on mountaintops, it takes the
shape of waterfalls and streams that run down the mountain slopes,
resting a while when it reaches the planes. After caressing the dizzying
heights, it flows downwards, going over mounds, and reaches the
valleys where it finally submits itself to the sea of goodness, piety, and
God-mindedness – the person who had led his life with steadfastness
and consciousness of God. This happens because this brook does not
allow itself to be polluted by any filth or impurity throughout its entire
course. It keeps every unrelated gaze away from its sight and touch. It
covers a distance of thousands of miles whilst maintaining its chastity;
for the same reason, it does not accept anyone less than a person who
is pure and unblemished. And at last, its existence, a blend of youth's
rising and falling waves, merges in its own sea forever.”
“I cannot decide whether I should praise the Maidens or the power
of your expression", I commented.
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