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 anything else here.
At first I thought about the meaning of my name. I spent my whole life but nobody ever told me what Salar meant.”
A young man had written the story of his arrival on a mirror:
“I came here sailing in a boat. The soldiers captured me on the shore and put me behind the bars. Now I am penning down my diary.”
I came here after they had departed.
There is no blank space left where I can write the details of my arrival and departure.