The Girl with the Mystic Voice

3 min readAug 15, 2022


The narrow little path in the gully never seemed as divine to me as in that very moment, not even when I was half starved and the tikka shops in the sideways refused to contain the aroma inside. It was a surprisingly breezy and warm Monday morning- and silent… It was silent, which is so very rare in a place like that, buzzing with activity all the time. I can’t remember whether the day was special somehow to force the people to sustain their slumber a little longer- but whatever the reason, as I am writing this, I am deciding on embarking on a serious investigation on the issue, and if fate permits replicate the effect for the rest of my stay here.

Maybe the prematurely opened attar shop nearby the masjid- and the intoxicating fragrance of Ruh Gulab in the air accentuated the effect. But it was the melodious voice of that beautiful little girl that took my breath away.

She was all on her own, without a care in the world I felt, singing and dancing to a tune I know not. She must be five, or maybe six or seven- certainly not more than that. She had such an amazing pair of blue eyes that when you stare into, it you’ll feel like you are drowning in the grand ocean of time. Her hair was all over the place- golden brown in colour- messed up but still a thing of utmost beauty somehow- any kind of grooming could have only brought down the divinity. She wore a floral skirt that was shabby and all too common- but then her cuteness more than compensated for the mundanity of her clothing. Her fair skin radiated light around and made it easy for people to notice her yet hard for them to steady their gaze for the light was too bright for mortal eyes.

But all of this fail to impress someone who just heard the melody that suspiciously came out of her cuddly face. And no, I am not giving her any reservation for her being decades below the mean age of a professional singer, nor am I taking into consideration the angelic exhibit before me from where the voice seems to emanate from- it is just, put plain and simple, the voice.

I don’t think I have ever heard the song she sang before- well, I haven’t really paid attention to the lyrics either. But the voice…. Oh, the voice… it cuts deep and makes an impact. I wasn’t sure if the effect was solely the product of her voice or if a part of the beauty emerged somewhere inside my own head. Being someone who aspires to be a scientist sometime in the future, I quickly took a glance around, calculated the number of people who seemed as surprised and enchanted as I am- they certainly looked like they really admired her for her talent- but it was different for me. I had to conclude that the entirety of the illusion was not to be credited to her alone- my cerebrum played a part as well.

She passed by me, and the melody followed. I would have loved to stop her and ask her to sing a little more or let me record her voice- but then, I was me, and that was never gonna happen. After a couple of uneventful days, her voice still remained with me- I didn’t remember the tune or the lyrics- just the voice. And unlike the tune or the lyrics, there is no possible way for one to reproduce the voice, no matter how much we adore it. But I knew I’d recognize it when I hear it.

I still didn’t crack the mystery of what made me so fondful of her voice. Maybe it reminds me of something, or someone… ­