Joseph wrote me an email, and he signed it Guiseppe. It took me sometime to figure out that Joseph and Guiseppe are one and the same person. I am sure he will forgive me. After all, unlike him, I am not Italian.

I had met Guiseppe by chance. He was the third good thing happening to me on that day. Madi's visit was the first, my discovery of Mansoor's music was the second, and meeting Guiseppe was the third. It seems appropriate that I tackle Mansoor before I do Guiseppe. Mansoor is not exactly pronounced Mansoor, it is pronounced more along the lines of Maynsour, what with he being an Iranian and all.

A couple of years ago, a client of mine, distributor for a major Korean brand of cigarettes had thrown a grand party at the Dubai Golf Creek to launch a new brand of cigarettes. The party was followed by a grand concert, and because the M.D was in a generous mood when he met me, he handed me over a couple of passes to this concert. It was a concert by an Iranian superstar followed by a Lebanese superstar. I understood niether Persian music nor Arabic music, but it seemed rude to decline that invitation, so I took it with thanks. Besides, Persian and Lebanese are generally acknowledged as two of the most beautiful races on Earth, and I thought being in the company of that crowd could only do my eyes good.

Mine was a VIP pass, so I proceeded to the open air venue along with a couple of friends from the host company, one an Indian and the other a Pakistani. Our jaws dropped to the ground with resounding thuds, and our eyes almost popped out when we got to the venue. It was as if we had been transported to another part of the world in an instant - everywhere we looked we saw these men and women of exquisite beauty, and for as far as I could see I could see not a single abaya/burqa/scarf. Actually, the ladies were too liberally dressed even for a Dubaiite's taste. The concert was yet to begin, but the place was jam packed, and it was abuzz with the indescribable noise reminiscent of a huge beehive.

I tried to listen, and I so very much liked what I heard. Anyone who has heard either Persian or Lebanese accent of Arabic will tell you that there are few dialects that sound more amicable to the ears. There's of course the sing-song dialect of Singhalese that the Srilankans talk in, there is Swahili that my Kenyan friends seem to sing lullabys in, and in our own backyard we have sweet languages like Seraiki and Sindhi that are easy on the ears - but Persian, and Lebanese/Syrian Arabic are in a class of their own. Perhaps, it has something to do with the over all ambience created by the speakers of these two languages that lends them added beauty.

So there we were looking like kids in a HUGE candy shop, when all of a sudden, without any warning this bearded guy sprang on to the stage with a cry - and the noise that followed was nothing less than deafening. He mozay feghustay dostayed a little before he launched into his first song. The crowd went absolutely berserk, and I found it hard to convince myself I was in UAE. I know a lot goes on in UAE, but somehow that part of Dubai is not a part of the life we born and brought up in UAE Pakistanis normally live. The first song ended, and then without music this guy chanted something like "Deevooney Deevooney..." and half the crowd chanted back in unison. The other half almost killed itself screaming!

Turns out this was one of the most waited for numbers in the evening, something like a Dil Dil Pakistan in a Vital Signs concert. The noise as well as the frantic dancing of the crowd was beginning to get to me, perhaps because I knew niether the language nor the music at all, so by the end of the second song, I had made my way out of the venue, but for a long long time the "Deevooney..." chant was etched on my memory. I had wanted to get my hands on that music for sometime, but unfortunately, I had not taken the trouble of finding out the name of that band at the time.

Two years down the road, I had just sauntered into this Virgin Music Store when the DJ played "Deevooney". I recognized the tune instantly, and picked up a cassette. I still do not understand more than just a few words, but I love the music. The guy sings very well and our Jals and Jawads could certainly take a leaf out of their music. Its worn off now, but on that day the excitement of listening to something totally fresh had wanted to translate into words on this blog, hence the inclusion in the title of the post. By the way deevooney means the same as Deewana in Urdu, Crazy. Incidently that was also the name of the album - Crazy.

So there...

... Now all I have to write about is Guiseppe, who to date is one of the most inspiring peiople I have met... but you are going to have to come back to read about him.