This short story by Munir Momin has been translated from Balochi by Hoorain Mahrang. No one could tell this corpse belonged to an insane man. I had not seen such a beautiful corpse in my life. I fancied that Dalarm had led his whole life for the purpose that his dead body looked so ravishing. ...
As I walked along with my grandfather towards Kaanti at the start of the blistering summer month of June in 1998, little did I know this would be my last trip to the place of my nostalgia. Kaanti, an oasis of extensive and dense groves of date palm trees, was nestled in the midst of ...
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The Shepherd (i) It all started one dreadful afternoon when The Shepherd ...
This Balochi short story by Ghaus Bahar, who passed away last week, has been translated by Fazal Baloch. It is midday. The sun is scorching hot overhead. From tiny ants and birds to giant leopards and elephants, everyone is writhing in unbearable heat. As far as one could see, the whole world looks like ...
By Aslan Ahmed Aslan Ahmed, a school-going child from Canada, has responded to Balochistan Times’ call for original short stories written by children under 17. Enjoy his first story. Chapter 1 Imagine this. You are falling from a plane six miles in the air. Your airplane chair and a bag of pretzels are all ...
Saddened but not broken Shackled but not hindered I fell from your blows, Harsh and continuous, I fell but not subdued My gaze still upwards Aspiring for the sun I heard one of us fell today Darkness consumed another son of light To stop what has been heralded, For quite sometime A ...
His heavy footsteps resonated through the empty street as his black combat boots splashed through another puddle of rainwater. Covering his eyes with his hat and face cast down, he stepped out of the road and onto the sidewalk. The rain continued to pound down on him, getting heavier by each passing minute. A loud ...
Meaning to life is an illusion followed by the multitude, a madding crowd. Blessed are those who are blinded with ignorance for they keep running towards the dark abyss, relentlessly. And yet, among us walk the ones who know. They dare not stop and doubt for the fear of being crushed by the blind fury ...
This short short story by A R Daad has been translated from Balochi by Mahnoor Mustafa. Behind the door, on the wall, an old man had written the year and month of his arrival. “I am the youngest son of Salar. The day I came here, except woods and bushes, I could not find ...
This is the English translation of Gul Khan Naseer’s Balochi poem ‘Ya Khuda Wanda’. ‘O’ Gracious God bestow the Baloch nation with people who are: Sagacious, valiant, magnanimous, compassionate and courageous too Their prudence and sagaciousness be more glorious than the brightest morns Their evergreen wisdom be resplendently dazzling in magnificence and majesty Their ...
Shehzad Obaid
Taj Baloch
