Balochistan Point Voice of Nation
Short Story Brahui: Ghamkhwar Hayat
English Translation: Fareed Bugti
It was a chilly day of December. The bulging pipelines of little warm-rooms of the village were emitting smoke as it is coming out of a running coal-train. Today, our neighbors had received their guests out of the blue. A little boy of them came to us for asking a scarce of tobacco and told that there arrived the aunt’s family.
They frequently come from Quetta to Kharan, chiefly during their winter vacations. The blowing icy air of the afternoon was welcoming the approaching snowfall. I had seen her after a pending complete year and I didn’t know what had been happened to me at this time, my eyes and cognizance were compelling me to look at her alluring face, and reprimanding me to do nothing and though just gaze.
When she looked at me at first, her bashful eyes sags down, just like a beautiful butterfly sits on a fresh rose. And her color of the face had altered, she was looking like a wet rose. I was trying to say ‘’welcome’’ to her, but she was intentionally avoiding me. Just in this incurable avoidance she suddenly hidden herself from my sight, as the moon disappeared between the clouds in a full moon night and I felt like my intellectuality is running opposite of my nature.
And this was an all alone feeling which I had not observed before, because I did not use to look at girls, If I had a slight unexpected gaze it only be the first and that’s a natural phenomenon, occurs with any individual. I personally believes that looking at girls without their willingness is an unpardonable sin and violation of their rights and this was exactly a piece of my advice. But this time, my action was sternly hurting my rationality. She also felt that this time I’m not the same as I was before. She was coming rarely to my home probably due to my new attitude towards her. If I was looking at her, she looks like she is battling with fear, but she was also looking at me, when I was not aware of her.
Second day, her mother did give me money to go to bazaar and buy a pair of warm shoes for her. I went and bought a wonderful one and also put a letter into the covering of the shoes and handed over it directly to her and let her be conscious to open it first and herself. Of course, it was also an opposite act towards my nature. After this formidable act, she almost disappeared from my sight. I have no idea what happened to her.
She did start only opening that our neighbor’s window, which opens at our side, just from forward-facing and stayed there for a while, may be for me! After an investigation I had found out that the given letter has been read by her cousin.
Me and my affectionate feelings, the ambitious love story has scorched and turned down into ashes. She stopped coming to the window and she did not even opened it for three to four days for last times. Though, my feelings were increasing for her, but the fear of customs and traditions and her dignity had stopped me having done it skeptically.
It was the day fifth, and I was happy because it was raining, it seems like clouds were hugging me with grieves and were crying over my unconcluded love story, the stark-naked trees were bathing fruitless under the falling drops, the moisty-smell of soil was smelling like the roses, which often can be seen busy in catering their smell everywhere. My happiness increased when I saw the window opened, but my heart fail to recall whipping, mind forgot the procedure of sensing, because she was not being appeared just at the window, there were only some broken bangles.
Published in The Balochistan Point on April 29, 2020
