Who am I?

Who am I?

Written by Zafarullah Kakar

Publisher: Fareed Ullah

Zafarullah kakar , an oriental writer, who lives in a far flung village of Kalazai in Balochistan province of Pakistan, is a totally beautiful person. His memories show the dark colours of reality, love, psychology and social existence.

Tries to introduce Zafarullah kakar, his village surroundings performs a first-rate function in the back of his intelligence and potential to put in writing.

Through Zafarullah's testimonies, he takes us into the heritage of his village lifestyles, in which he fantastically portrays the traditions and hardships of the commonplace human beings. In their transcendent fashion, the listener feels that they put their heart into their paintings and promote justice and love.

Zafarullah's tales ought to consequently attain the arena, so that people can better recognize their inner and social hell via them. His phrases must be valued in each language and tradition, so that everybody can get hold of love and mild from him.

To my mum, dad, and instructors. Their lessons are alive and the journey is going on.

The names of the brothers, Najeeb and Kaleem, who enabled this book to be published.

Here are a few Stories (Fiction) I have for you.

However, I'm not entirely sure. Here are a handful of tales, some based on true situations, some not.

Since I find writing to be difficult. I cherished reading and listening to stories all of them, very few. I will create my own writing. Then I started writing with the pen. That was the initial step. I wish my mother tongue were Urdu(I started this in Urdu language,national language of Pakistan.and my own language is Pashto). If only it could be a language.

However, it did occur. In addition, I could not resist giving my salutations to Urdu poets and writers in every genre.

It took me ten years to write this book, but it will take much less time to read

.These are our eastern stories of South Asia. You will find simplicity in it. But when you read it, it will prepare you to know more about us.

Why I couldn't publish it in such a long time. Maybe it was because I didn't know the way. There was no platform in sight. I belong to a poor and resource-poor region. Not all people in the world have the same lives.

These stories are ours own, I wrote them for my people. But then I thought that literature has no borders. So I, myself translated it into an international language.

You will encourage me in my endeavor. If this happens, I will realize that life can start anytime.

zafrullah

Let me say.

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Inhabited for centuries, this grand human settlement is inhabited by humans. Eat and drink. Walking around. Doing works... work.

And then a long list of tasks. Who does what?.Good or evil?.What are the reasons?

We build relationships. As relations, There are many periods in everyone's life.

Then sadness and happiness. And pain and relief are also mentioned. Sometimes the world of the heart is inhabited. Sometimes the opposite happens. There is no uniformity inside and outside. Sometimes friends come in the race of life.

Sometimes one is defeated by enemies. Struggling from within and without, the man has been in the struggle forever.

Reluctance surrounded it. It was heard. And sometimes it was rejected. Someone waited. Someone became a burden. The greatness of bread has been maintained since eternity. It incites struggle. The life of every soul consists of struggle. Stories were made in all this struggle. Stories will be made. And stories are being made.

The number of stories is endless. Every living thing has a story attached to it. And then more branches come out of that trunk.

Sometimes we read a story. Sometimes listen. See you sometime. So sometimes we just feel. There is even a time when we become the story. For a certain time we remain spectators. And at certain times, they become spectacles. There is a big difference between watching and being spectacles.

Table:

1.   To whom I talk!?

2.   Forced

3.   Dream of love

4.   Dust and Smoke

5.   The Merchant

6: .  Who am I ?... !!

7.   The Final  lines

8:  Re tour

9:  Flute in Mountains

10:.   Inscription Number Two

The Help less

12:.  Intention

13:  Daniel in the Street

14:  Trust

Relief

16:  Let me do a request

1. To whom I talk!?

They don't hear cries. They understand the silence. But in order to do that, they have to get into my heart. But I have been there myself. The place is not empty. So now they're out of there. I'm quiet now. Now I'm going to talk to myself. My heart will condemn me. Every time I touch the flowers, I drink clean and clear water. But this is a farce. I had just come out of the darkness into the light to hide from myself. Zulqarnain!(name) You came back here again. What's kept here? Except for the darkness. How long is it going to escape? Is there a way to escape this? If you have been bitten by an artificial sucker outside, Look at the clouds on the horizon! Look at the moon! Look at the waves of the sea! who push each other to the shore. In the morning, the sun will rise from the east. A new day will begin. But every day is a new day. It moves in a circle of time. I'll need the same silence tomorrow.

Yes, but the birds can come out of this window in the morning and speak their language. Their speech doesn't break. It is not repetitive. Just take one. And the time is fixed".

We were silent for a long time. There was no reason to talk. In the evening, the doctor also prescribed some medicines along with the advice. That hasn't made an impact yet. So we were left in silence. He wasn't the first doctor. I've met a lot of people before. It was a story of years.

And now I've forgotten it too. That's who he was. He spoke to me quietly before. If he were my teacher, So who? I also went to the madrassa(Religious School). I also studied at school. I had a lot of teachers. Or he was talking to me. Which I looked for a lot in the mirror. But he couldn't find me. People get lost in the dark. Why was he smiling in the mirror? Was he hiding his grief by being a stranger to me? But if he knew it right, I saved him by advancing myself in so many storms. His centuries turned into moments. He hid what he had seen and heard. Setting him in a set of seven colour, he imprisoned himself in monochromatic darkness. You walked out of the mirror and hugged me. Tears rolled down his cheeks. And he knew it was dark. It only takes a few minutes for me to get there. I think of it as happiness. The moment between two sorrows is called happiness. Listening to two words of comfort and taking a moment to relax in the midst of anxiety is called tranquility. But he lives in me. when he listens to me. I just talked to him a little while ago. I was waving my right hand. He did the same with his left hand. There was also a discrepancy between the wristwatch and the shirt pocket. He has no arguments. He just wanted to be different. Then I walked out into the darkness. He also changed direction.

Maybe he went to the light. I took two steps back. So he did the same. He is my enemy's friend.

I'm scared of him. He wants to hear me sing. But I told him anyway. My house is as old as my neighborhood. My eyes lit up, and I took my head with me. He had once put me in a boat and dropped me into the sea. But then the sea was gone. And I was just sitting there. Yes, but I'm alive. What's the dream? They're still dying. Does it matter if the world is or isn't? There will be more songs now. Myths will now exist. So I went into the dark. As I was walking down from the pomegranate tree, my feet would grab a few strawberries. I was reminded of Anarkali (the name of a lady it means pomegranate flower)( a drama written by a great writer,). People say it was a master of the drama of its time. But for the man I left in the mirror, it is indisputable that this is the masterpiece of all time. He says that it was the pomegranate tree's misfortune, not Salim's (the Son of king)grief. Nor did Akbar's(The king) victory Akbar, however, must have had a grand laugh, considering it his victory. And the courtiers must have saluted by placing their hands on the navel and half-bending. How courageous is the Anarkali ? No, at that time, capital

had killed poverty. But they died. Anarkali was alive. The man with the mirror complains to me.

I can't get over it. Don't turn your head. That's why people listen to me. Maybe I'm intoxicated.

you run away from me every day." He wants to take care of me. And I'm going to keep running away. But we never stopped talking. I am in great need of it. He leads me to the light. And I push back into the darkness. His hope is alive. I can't see anything in the dark. He doesn't hear anything. And that's what I want to do. But I'm starting a new life. But where's the new one?

What do I do with the old one? What to do with this forested world, where there is fire everywhere? That's what's burning our fires. Many traders came and sold their gold ornaments.

.Race, nationality, language, ethnicity Everyone lit up our Garden with artistry. It was just an evening. And the sun was red in the sea. You came to explain it to me. Where do we go now?

The notification will be clear when the rock is extinguished. Then we will find our home. You will rebuild your home. But you have to be confident. No merchant will set fire to it again.

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2. Forced

He thought, Why not choose the dirt road that leads to the village tonight? He woke up after dinner. performed ablutions. And he put on his helmet and went out. "'Mom! close the door.

But don't wear a tie. Put the brick in the back. I'll be back a little later today. why?. Where will you go? At this time, Mom asked, and he answered. Mom! Sharif has called the singers. I'll be there after the prayer. For some time. but My son! he got married yesterday. And the singers have been called today. Oh, Mama! Yesterday, it was Willima (marriage dinner party). How could it be done in one night?" OK..OK .Go away! But don't stay there too long.

He did not go to Sharif's house after offering prayers. Instead, he walked a long way from the village. He sat on the bank of the river and waited for a passerby. The streets were often deserted at night. But still, any traveller from the city towards the village would get off the bus on the paved highway. and walked down the street to the village. It was too late to reach the village. And today, Shaukat came out with the same hope. Then they returned from the city to the villages. They had money, too. And Shaukat had less fear of wasting labour.

****

His father had died when he was a child. His father owned a lot of land. His mother had given him to a small farmer in the village. From then until now, the annual payment of rent has been received. For a long time, that money was enough for the mother and son for the whole year.

But when he was young, he got married. So it was difficult. Because the rate of inflation was increasing every year. On this account, the farmer used to increase a very small amount every year. And now, due to a lack of water, the landlord has also hinted at leaving the land a few

times. Therefore, Shaukat and his mother did not even demand much from the farmer to increase the amount of the mortgage. And as much as they got. They considered it a big.

Shaukat had no permanent job. Sometimes he would bring some money. That's what his answer to mom would. Today I worked in the garden of Davood( David). ever say it. Rafiq's roof was plastered. Sometimes there's a drain, he dug. So he seduced his mother by telling her the wages for building someone's wall. Sometimes a job. Sometimes the second. But he never did it. Whenever he brought something home, it's always stolen property. His mother loved him so much. She trusted him more than anything. His mother never forced him to work. At times, she advised him to manage his own land. To this, Shaukat replied. ;Mom! You know it. Water is needed to irrigate the land. And because of the cost of extracting water today,if we we even sell our land,it will not be arranged

The darkness was very deep. Dark clouds loomed in the sky. when a long time has passed. And there was no one there. So He thought he should go back home. He wanted to get up with that.

The sound of someone's voice came to his ears. He hastily changed his turban into a veil. He was holding a pistol in one hand and a torch in the other. In the darkness, a shadow approached him. The sound of coughing was also clearly heard. And Shaukat immediately guessed. There's an old man approaching. So there will not be much resistance. He suddenly turned the torch on the old man's face. The old man was terrified. Who's ?.The old man walked on. And he was not in good condition . Shaukat immediately removed the veil from his face. and the pistol is inserted into the inner pocket. Perhaps he felt pity for the old man. Or not getting anything out of him. Baba! where you come from now. And where to go? The old man said, I am going to the house of Maulvi(religious teacher) Ziauddin Sahib. So tell me! What are you doing here at the moment? Shaukat probably did not expect such a question. That's why he was scared. he said. I...I...I'm waiting for my friend here. He comes back to town every week. He gets off the bus on the street. You know How far is it from here? But you're a stranger? The old man was trying to recover his breath. he said. "We are the followers of Maulana Ziauddin Sahib.

People often come to this village. Our village is across the river. He left home for the west. But I csn hardly take a few steps. So I'm tired. But Baba and Shaukat cut him off and said, Maulvi Ziauddin Sahib is sleeping at the moment. Yes. May be .It's been a long night. I will spend the night in the Mosque. Baba! Now the doors of the mosque will be closed. Come home with me.

we'll see Moulvi in the morning. Your friend? asked the old man. Shaukat said. "He might as well have stopped today. He should have come by now. Shaukat was walking with the old man.

It took them a long time to get home. The musical sounds could be listen still from Sharif's house.. Shaokat opened the door. Old man sat down in the chair. Baba! You didn't even eat?

Shaokat asked. Didn't eat it. But now I don't want to eat. I am very tired. Just want to drink a glass of cold water". Shaukat filled a glass of water from the earthen pot kept in the courtyard and gave it to Baba. The old man's hands clenched. He's done both. He held the glass in his hands. It's like the glass is falling out of his hands. Holding the glass of water, Shokat came out of room. and entered his own room. His wife was sleeping in their room.

Shaukat was very happy because on the way to home ,he once heard 'Beta' (son) from Baba's (old man)mouth. He thought about the whole thing. If his father were alive. You're still the same as Dad.My father held out two hands

He, once again entered the room,where the old man was sitting.

On Shaukat's insistence, he ate some pieces of bread with the help of water and hit the back. .

Baba! Did you have to take any advice from the maulvi? Yes son! After years of waiting, the daughter-in-law has been blessed with a son. But the baby does not get enough milk. Maulvi Sahib gives the virtual lesson of milk abuse...

Shaukat was very happy because on the way to home ,he once heard 'Beta' (son) from Baba's (old man)mouth. He thought about the whole thing. If his father were alive. You're still the same as Dad.My father held out two hands

He, once again entered the room,where the old man was sitting.

On Shaukat's insistence, he ate some pieces of bread with the help of water and hit the back. .

Baba! Did you have to take any advice from the maulvi? Yes son! After years of waiting, the daughter-in-law has been blessed with a son. But the baby does not get enough milk. Maulvi Sahib gives the virtual lesson of milk abuse...

I heard it. The villagers across the big river are very rich. Shaukat now started talking to Baba about his goal. Baba said. Yes, they are very rich. We also have some poor families. Do you have children? I have only one son. He works in Sukkur (a city in Pakistan). That's just the way life goes. Good baba! It's too late at night. You're tired. Go sleep! I'm going to sleep too. We will meet Moulavi in the morning prayer. With that, he turned on the lantern. He got out of his seat and went into his room.