The sea is rising

Author: Fazal Baloch

Today nothing exists there, neither the river nor the tree – name of which I do not know till this day, or the girl who always filled my water skin before anyone else. I wandered and looked around. It appeared as if I had landed in an unknown place. I wondered for a while. It was an arid and lonely plain. Here, I fear I would die of thirst. Where is that river, that girl and that tree? I turned back to look for them, eventually the wise man appeared.

“Hi! At last you have landed in a wasteland. Haven’t you?”

“Either I am back here after a long time or I have never been here before.”

“Weren’t you standing here with that girl yesterday? You were about to inquire her about the name of that tree. As I appeared, she took to her heels and vanished. She is still waiting for you. Until she fills your water skin, she will not go home.”

“Where is she? I do not see anything here. The other day, when I was here, I saw a mountain and by the mountain was a small hamlet and there were children playing there. Where is that sweet river? I see just a dark plain running ahead of me. No one has come here in the past nor will ever.”

The wise man pointed his finger southward and said:

“Look! That is the river, the girl who is waiting for you, the mountain, the hamlet and the children playing there.”

“Do you believe that I cannot see anything except for the black dust spiralling up in the sky?”

“Then you are surely dead.”

“No Sire, by no means am I dead. I have covered a long distance to reach here only because I am alive.”

“But you cannot see anything expect yourself and the dark dust which you say is covering the horizon.”

“No Sire! I can see you as well. If there existed anything else here, how could I have not seen it?”

“Have you ever drunk water from any pitcher here?”

“Yes many a times,” I replied.

“That is why you cannot see anything.”

“Lo, the girl who had been waiting for you since long, is now disappointed and is going back home; the children have finished the game and one by one they are heading home, and the darkness has descended on the river but you cannot see them.”

“Who will now fill my water skin? I still have a long way to go, I will die of thirst.”

The wise man turned his face and said:

“There is not even a single droplet left there in your water skin. You are no more distended to have water. Now you cannot go a long way or can see anything. You should have asked me before drinking water from those pitchers.”

“You had been accompanying me. You should have forbidden me.”

“Do you not know it yourself?”

The wise man left me alone and strolled towards the East. Except the dark clouds of dust that had enveloped the stars, I could not see anything else. Neither were the mountains and homes visible, nor the girl or the river. Now who would fill my water skin?

This is a translated version of a Balochi short story written by A. R Dad

Published in Daily Times, November 9th 2017.

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