(Sufi Muhammad Javed; Jahaniyan)

There is a clinic near my house. One day I heard the voice as if some ox was being slaughtered, while passing by the clinic on my bike. The voice was so horrible, that I stopped my motorcycle and went inside the clinic. There was a young man of locality, who did magic. He was suffering from brain hemorrhage; the doctor advised the attendants to take him to Multan for he was feeling himself helpless. On being asked, they told me that the patient was in that condition for the last many hours. And finally he died on his way to Multan. His face is still before my eyes and he was writhing like an animal.