مائکرو فکشن آکٹوپس انگریزی ترجمہ کے ساتھ

Micro Fiction: The Octopus

Writer: Salma Jilani (original in Urdu)

Translated into English by Sarosh Latif

A strange stink lingered in the air. Some new disinfectant was being sprayed; they would soon tame it was what they believed. They all busied themselves in communal prayers. Myriads of crowds, in their own ways and well-armed, were advancing to refine their souls to push around the invisible enemy. The Azans were resonating all over. The church bells were being rung somewhere. To immerse into the holy water, the divers were all togged up.

No one could foresee that the one who fed on innocuous and lowly ants came out of a desolate island, swaying clammily like an octopus, and had suddenly entangled the entire world. From one to ten and then to hundreds and thousands, it kept on multiplying. Gripping heads and bouncing over, it was gaining strength steadily. Now its tactics were more dangerous than ever. Someone said that this demon only preys on old people. Some were taking it as an illusory monster.

Like others she was not a bit ruffled, as she was merely thirty, and her brother was even five years younger. Why to bother about taking any preventive measures? It was the prime time of their lives to cherish festivities... And then came  the first blow of grief. It hit them hard, but somehow they endured. The mother…he buried her with his own hands two day back. He didn’t even notice when it started feeding on his lungs. They were shooting in the dark. Their enemy was not visible, but its fatal blows had been turning them helpless.

Out of nowhere some silhouettes appeared .... all wrapped up in plastic, like space dwellers, and stood around her bed. A deep voice surfaced from somewhere. This is the end of time…nothing is beyond it.

She had smelled her death; it was time to recite holy Kalmas …the angels had come to take her along. But the pulsating air around her nearly collapsing eyes and the corners of ears was whispering something else, " You must fight. Do not lose hope, we are here to take you to the hospital." But no ventilator was available. "The oxygen tanks are empty, take her to another hospital." Those wrapped up in protective coverings turned into lifeless figurines. All their efforts rolled into dust. As a last resort, she gathered up all her remaining strength and picked the phone in her tremulous hands with heavy eyes and broken breathing. She hoped

someone would surely turn up… lots of admirers follow her on social media. With quivering hands, she typed…. "Would someone share with me the address of the hospital where oxygen could be found? ... I cannot breathe." Between rambling breaths, she tried to find a moment of comfort. Struggling, she opened her eyes…not a single comment popped up there. But people were constantly sending ’tear-shedding’ smileys.

The following day…the same figurines came to shoulder the funeral – as they all were fully trained and equipped to lay the victims of the plague to rest. The number of condolences and prayers for salvation had reached countless.

The crowd is diving into the holy water with more fervour than ever before. Their implorations have intensified. Another mob on the streets, wearing turbans, is now hitting unseen enemy with sticks and canes, in effect harming themselves.

And the invisible octopus has now turned into a monster with countless arms – the moment someone dies, another arm is added to

its body which is spreading

for miles and miles.

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