Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan is Pakistan’s rose to love.
    An activist for love, Khan continues to remind Pakistan, as well as the world, of the importance of us seeing each other beyond the eyes of race and religion with the use of his voice. At a time when Pakistan is burying its victims of war and violence, a reflection on the late Khan is both timely and necessary.
   Born in 1948, Khan took his last breath in 1997. He has since left his audience breathless. His music, the Sufi (a mystical strand of Islam) devotional discourse of qawwali, still lives and is a testament to the immortal voice of a blissful mortal.
   Qawwali music employs vocals as its main instrument, and, in many ways, it seems as though qawwali was gifted with its finest instrument when Khan devoted himself to it.
    Coupled with certain basic musical instruments, qawwali sees a singer lead a choir of claps and incantations in a performance of Sufi poetry. The content of the poems shapes the form of the music, and Khan has left his emblem on a number of performances.

His constant improvisations and unbelievable control over his voice brought many a pilgrim to his door

    Qawwali was the pulse of Khan’s family. For 600 years prior to Khan’s initiation into the tradition, his family performed the devotional discourse. Initially his father did not wish for his son to take on the family tradition, but Khan immersed himself in it nonetheless.
    Within a very short span of time, Khan grew in prominence and began to work with Sufi scriptures in surprisingly fresh ways. His performances were stamped with individuality. Khan broke conventions. He was the catalyst behind the modernization of qawwali music.
   Khan’s qawwalis are his dedications to numerous personalities and concepts. His works continue to be sold, and “Dum Dum Ali Ali” and “Akhiyan Udeek Diyan” are just some of the many qawwalis that form the astonishing 125 albums he has released.
    His constant improvisations and unbelievable control over his voice brought many a pilgrim to his door. Far from just the Punjabi, Urdu or Farsi speaking audiences, Western legends such as Michael Brook and Eddie Vedder, who teamed with the legend to form the soundtrack to Deadman Walking, all stopped for a chance to work with Khan.
   Khan’s works have been remixed by many, but if you take a minute to hear the man sing, you can feel his intensity almost immediately.
    Lost, yet in control, he presented his songs with purpose. His team would merely follow his instructions and, seated on the ground, Khan would take flight into his own world, where he communicated with whoever or whatever he was singing about.
    Khan was a lover, a romantic. The world can learn a lot from him and his songs of devotion.