Ayaz Khan
Though within the family chain of my clan, I fall at the end of the row, yet knowing about your birthday, I have clawed my way through the dark and intricate paths passing through the luxurious edifices of my three brothers; hereby I am trying to make you hear my voice, ‘happy birthday brother.’
For decades, I have been rusting to ground as most of the alien giants have ransacked my home and my wails have not been audible to you because I fall in the end of the familial chain of my clan. In fact, the cumbersome iron boats of alien giants have flattened my chest but at least giving me recognition to retain a large geography than that of other three brothers. But, to regret on my ill-fated health, I have been nailed to ground even cannot budge.
Since my childhood my brothers have been avoiding taking me to motley educational, economic and sport competitions. They say I seem corpulent and I am not as agile as they are. In fact, they don’t see I am burdened with heavy duty of carrying the cumbersome sacks of gold and entrusted with the wells of oil, gas and ferrous mountains, cluttering with precious resources, so that my brothers are not bothered about their livelihood while utilizing it.
Sometimes I am on the moon when my brothers take me around for a walk and I am elated when they whisper in my ears that they are taking me to meet with big brother! But, before entering into big brother’s palace I am often blind folded. I squat on the comfortable furniture listening to big brother’s echoing laughter and sometimes accompanying the laughter with a chuckle merely, but it is a red letter day for me. After all, I meet my big brother, my patron.
Dear brother, since your voice has only been audible to me for a long, I have been endeavoring to paint a portrait of yours. When I sit back and take painting equipment I drag my hands back thinking least I should belittle you in front of other brothers as I have never seen you before. Yet I have made your portrait today to gift you on your birthday—see, this angelic portrait, doesn’t it reflect you?
I have grown too morbid owing to burden of resources. Being too away from my brothers, recently I have suffered a hemorrhagic due to lack of rains and home-grown disloyal mosquitoes. Thanks to a foreigner doctor a specialized physician, on a haphazard visit though, found me anguishing and rushed to treat me. He diagnosed merely a severe pain in my left arm and gave me some sedative. But, even a nail in pain disturbs the whole body! Isn’t it?
I have often requested my brothers to get me a new dress as my crocheted attire often receives much flak. In fast blowing winds from East and South West carrying too much dust, I suffer intermittent ailments. On your (big brother) birthday I am going to gift you my own-painted angelic portrait of yours. And, on my birthday I hope you reciprocate me with same good gesture with a shelter on my head and incubate me against dusty winds blowing often from East and South West which ail me the most.
Your aloof, but still brother—Balochistan
Writer is a featured writer for Balochistan Voices
Disclaimer: This Story is based on satire.
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