Are you still playing your Flute?

What are your exact thoughts after reading Zurinah Hassan's poem," Are you still playing your Flute"? Is the persona reminiscing bygone times when there was a lover in a village who filled her heart with music and joy? Is she thinking that even as time passes by, that things have yet to change in the village that could be a disjunct and not in synchronization in time and pace with the rest of the country as it moves forward?

On another level, is it a juxtaposition of an art form onto the cruel realities of a nation in uncertainty of its future? Is it a message being masqueraded as a poem by the poet to reflect his political leanings upon a young nation trying to find its ethos amidst its many layered problems,dimensions and challenges?

Let us look at this poem and flesh out its hidden message,where we can.

Are you still playing your Flute

Are you still playing your flute?
When there is hardly time for our love
I am feeling guilty
To be longing for your song
The melody concealed in the slim hollow of the bamboo
Uncovered by the breath of an artist
Composed by his fingers
Blown by the wind
To the depth of my heart.

Are you still playing your flute?
In the village so quiet and deserted
Amidst the sick rice field
While here it has become a luxury
To spend time watching the rain
Gazing at the evening rays
Collecting dew drops
Or enjoying the fragrance of flowers

Are you still playing your flute?
The more it disturbs my conscience to be thinking of you
in the hazard of you
my younger brothers unemployed and desperate
my people disunited by politics
my friend slaughtered mercilessly
the world is too old and bleeding

All three stanzas started with the same query which is reminiscent of "Isle of Innisfree." It reflects a constant concern-a possible regretful fixation of sorts.

We can also feel the mood of the three stanzas as if the poet is trying to convey to us that she has left the village and have matured out of the innocence of the rural psyche as "The Songs of Experience " of William Blake and she has moved on to something higher while the lover still lives within the blissfulness of the "Songs of Innocence"-footloose and fancy free; living in his own world, happy and undisturbed as he played the evergreen tunes of his flute.