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The story of Master, Doctor, Shepherd and God

Master’s wife prepared breakfast for him: milk tea and parathas, a crispy oily bread. The smell of burning wood was mixed with the scent of parathas and milk tea, pleasing but at the same time had an annoying choking effect. She never said much but today she seemed to be struggling …

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Prisoners of darkness

In times my cell is darker than a womb but lack the warmth of it. It’s cold – soul-clenching cold.   I look at the vertical scratches on the blood-splattered walls, Reminder of the desperate attempts of my predecessors, To keep the track of days and nights, To confine their …

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God’s letter to them

Translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch After departing from the bus, he strolled towards the lamps and sat facing them. His hair had turned grey, his eyes were sunk deep into their sockets and his cheeks had lost most of their flesh. Ahead of him laid an endless and quiet …

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Escape in numbness

I’m numb as wood And I can’t feel a thing No matter how much sex I have, Or drink like a fish, Or smoke like a Victorian chimney, I am numb and can’t feel the hatred or the indignity they want to inflict upon my soul. I was kicked in …

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The Sticker

Translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch.   It is a summer evening and I am alone in my hostel room. With a book in my hand, I am apparently reading something but unable to maintain focus on the text. Two days back, a friend died in a car accident. Ever …

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Translated by Fazal Baloch   “I want to write down my dreams,” he looked at me as if he wanted to seek my advice. “That is a good thing,” I replied. “Kafka had written his dreams too. The real creativity comes from dreams. But don’t you know not everyone can …

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