Читать книгу A Sea Nomad. Prose/проза - Фируз Мустафа - Страница 2

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He who does good deed, will be endowed for it, he who does harm, will be punished for of his harm.

Koran – Kerim, Al-Zelzele, 7—8

Be devoted till death…

Apocalypse: 10

A flower complains to the dawn sky which has lost all of its stars: “I have lost my dew drop”

R. Toqor

***

Of course, you know languages of animals; birds, fishes, and you can talk with them. You can even have a talk with grass and flowers too. But what about people around you? Can you understand their language? And also do you believe that those people feel and understand you? Why do you keep silence? Why don’t you answer?

***

This unusual event isn’t a made up story. I heard it from an old fisherman

***

…. but there was not a piece of news from Tuqay till that time.

The woman didn’t know what to do.

Still it was daytime. But it seemed thee woman that it had already became dark.

The sun had set before its time.

The woman was frightened. Firstly, in a whisper, then loudly she began to call her son: “Tuqay, my son…” Her trembling voice seemed strange even to herself too. As if this voice was coming from far, from the bottom of a well.

Time passed without being felt, within silence. As if the silence had created a cold curtain over everything, a curtain which was impossible to be seen with eyes; which could be felt only by the heart.

There was not a piece of news from Tuqay.

“Tuqay, my son….Where are you?”