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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Mystery
- Published: 12/07/2022
CHOICE
Born 1972, M, from Srinagar, IndiaChoice
Mushtaque B Barq
On the bank of Dal Lake, Khatij Ded was humming. God knows what. The sun was directing its crimson crowd to vandalise the blue vast. She was trying to hold her tattered headgear carefully by her left hand lest it should take off her introversion high in the sky to expose her freshly henna dyed locks. The solitary green bangle on her skinny wrist seems to contradict the unique set of bountiful rings on her scaly-starved fingers. The dusky sky from the heart-beating horizon was slowly kneeling down into the crystals of her rings to raise her as a deity of the evening. Her right hand frequently wiped off the froth from the inner corners of her oval lips.
Salam, a boatman, often encountered the supple elegance of Khatij Ded. He anchored his boat and dragged his hookah out of the old lidless wooden box and pretended to smoke while his eyes were fixed at Khatij Ded. She was hardly aware of Salam’s presence, but Salam was engrossed in her, perhaps scanning her wrinkled face behind the pince-nez that she has accidently found on the footpath when a foreign lady tried to frame Khatij Ded in her camera by holding her hand.
"Can anyone know how to click?" she asked.
Salam came forward and did the rest as if he had taken countless clicks before. He directed the foreign lady to adjust her spectacles, which she did to please Salam.
After scanning the shot, she was terrified to find Khatij Ded missing from the frame, and in a state of terror she dropped her pince-nez and Khatij Ded became the sole proprietor of it. From that day on, Kahtij Ded not only added grace to her face, but she could see amazing things around her.
"Aye, Khatij Dedi, it is getting late now. Would you like to come? "I am leaving," Salam shouted joyfully.
Khatij Ded turned her head and stretched her brows, hurriedly holding the hem of her headgear, and responded in affirmation.
She put extra effort into bringing herself to life before placing herself in the boat, and Salam handily beat the rudder to take her to the other side of the Dal Lake.
"Why are you often sitting at the bund during the deepening dusk?" Salam asked.
Khatij Ded didn't say anything, delicately coiling her head like a dove in her nest. Salam cocked his wry brow and, before he could gently inquire, he discovered Khatij Ded virtually lost in her own universe. She wore the spectacle on her head, as if she were examining the sky with mystic eyes.
The sinking sun on the water film was experiencing its last dip before getting into it to solemnly proclaim the glorious dawn the next day. Khatij Ded raised her head and carefully scanned the entire area.
"Do you have any doubts that I am the Queen of this Dal Lake?" She claimed.
Salam laughed like a mad man, but Khatij Ded stayed calm and composed.
“At dusk, my grand throne is set at the bank of Dal Lake near Gagribal, and I have to summon all the fairies of the valley before dispatching them to their fairyland. This is my official duty, and I am being rewarded for it. If any fairies go missing, I have to report immediately, and these waves will carry me to the royal court up there on the Zabarwan. “She announced.
Salam slowed the pace of his boat; he was mystified about whether to laugh or to inform the daughters of Khatij Ded about her illness. He was frantically struggling to hold his ground.
"This Dal Lake has turned into a historic graveyard." Khatij Ded informed.
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Salam asked casually.
She adjusted the corners of her pheran and lovingly gazed at Salam. Her piercing gaze peered down the recesses of Salam and he could see what he had never seen.
You, men, only know how to feed your ego, a fake mania in your rotting skulls, and damage women's lives. Why do males have a choice about what they choose to live for? "How come a lady can't?" She inquired.
"A male has a choice; a woman has to submit unconditionally." Salam answered with authority.
Khatij Ded seized the rudder and, with a few gentle strokes, raised her head and motioned Salam to approach closer. He obeyed since she appeared to be a unique creature. Salam noticed a magnificent crown on her head and a slew of mysterious figures directing the boat. He almost passed out before Khatij Ded came to her aid.
On Earth, I am Khatija, but in the ether, I am a guardian of this lake. Remember, I have two selves. You're on the assignment with me. I surge and fall like this wave, never to rise again. "You are my choice."
Salam was scared. Salam was unaware that she had put the rudder into the water and that the boat had reached the shore. He looked around; everything seemed unfamiliar to him. Khatij Ded was dazzled by astonishing beauty. She was no longer an old lady, but a queen, as he had heard in his grandmother’s bedtime tales. The singing fairies greet their empress.
A fairy reported, “Oh! Majestic Queen of Lake, Naseema is missing."
"I know, that is why I came here.” Khatij Ded responded.
Salam stood like an idiot in this dream world, barely understanding the region and location. A vast floating lotus garden approached from a corner of the lake, changing with every rush of water, and the transformation was dreadful. Salam could see a massive graveyard, considerably larger than any he had seen on Earth. Every Lotus head floated like a headstone, holding a shrouded body beneath its belly. He tried to cry, but he had no idea he was now a denizen of Dal Lake, having lost all of his earthly traits.
Another kind fairy informed, "There is a private messenger from the Royal Court. You are being summoned."
A majestic wave raised its head and unfurled its splendid wings to transport Khatij Ded to Zabarwan. "Salam, you stay here. I will be back soon. Don’t go anywhere; I am leaving this pince-nez in your safe custody, "Khatij Ded directed.
Salam, in the heart of his heart, wished to remain amidst fairies to enjoy the grand opulence of the place and the peculiar atmosphere around him. The kind King tried to soothe Khatij Ded, but her cascading eyes were narrating a tale of her woes.
"Don’t worry, water nymphs are searching for her. She will be back soon. "
"So you have taken Salam to Fairyland to be the new supervisor." The King asked.
Khatij Ded lowered her head, squeezed her body, and sighed; a storm of agony leaked through her mouth.
The King came closer to her and whispered into her ear, "A gone girl sets a father on pyres too. While you mothers beat the chest, we fathers beat the consciousness in private recesses and beneath the open vast. We too sigh, but our storms are silent, for the reason that a man weeps only when he finds a humble woman beneath his breast."
A breeze passed over the court and a group of fairies arrived, "Naseema’s dead body has been found at Charchinari."
Khatij Ded cupped her head, and a wave raised its head, and on those majestic wings she was carried to Charchinari, where Naseema’s deceased body was wrapped in mud on the shore waiting to be carried.
The King only lowered his crown and sighed as he shed the green leaves of the nearby Chinar. With his departure, the leaves whirl randomly to mourn the death of a fairy.
Meanwhile, Salam adjusted the eyeglasses on his nose and in a jiffy removed them, but curiosity lured him to follow his desires. As he rested the eyeglasses on his nose, a hazy figure moved across the lake, and Salam raised his hand to hold it, but the wave passed furiously over his head, astonishing Salam.
Khatij Ded's mystic abilities were stripped away. Every gone fairy entails the death of a damsel on Earth, according to the decree. She lost her kingdom, her confidence, and the treaty for the reason that, with the death of a damsel, her powers, like the fallen leaves of a Chinar, would tumble down to be crushed by the jackboots on the earth once for all. In a coronation ceremony, Salam was raised as Supervisor of the Dal Lake, but Khatij Ded lost her crown and was imprisoned in the depths of the lake.
On her return, she found Salam crowded with fairies. They were offering him their hands, gifts, and garlands of rare gold. He smiled and whispered, "These gifts can at least fetch a good husband for my daughter."
She stroked his head, the last mystic stroke of the fallen empress, and he found his boat struggling in the backwater weeds somewhere near Charchinari, carrying the dead body of his third daughter, for whom he was considering carrying the gifts for her marriage. Wishing to see a bridegroom enter his partially sunk house boat stationed in Dal Lake's interiors. He had till date only seen mourners taking the dead bodies of his wife and two daughters to be buried under the never-filled belly of the earth.
He adjusted the spectacles once more on the nose. The hazy figure soon turned into a human face. The foreign lady that had left her pince-nez on the shore stopped at the edge of the boat that was carrying the dead body of the last left daughter of Salam.
"A supervisor of the lake ought to serve and sacrifice," she explained. Wiping his tears, Salam understood why he had lost his last daughter too.
CHOICE(Mushtaque Barq)
Choice
Mushtaque B Barq
On the bank of Dal Lake, Khatij Ded was humming. God knows what. The sun was directing its crimson crowd to vandalise the blue vast. She was trying to hold her tattered headgear carefully by her left hand lest it should take off her introversion high in the sky to expose her freshly henna dyed locks. The solitary green bangle on her skinny wrist seems to contradict the unique set of bountiful rings on her scaly-starved fingers. The dusky sky from the heart-beating horizon was slowly kneeling down into the crystals of her rings to raise her as a deity of the evening. Her right hand frequently wiped off the froth from the inner corners of her oval lips.
Salam, a boatman, often encountered the supple elegance of Khatij Ded. He anchored his boat and dragged his hookah out of the old lidless wooden box and pretended to smoke while his eyes were fixed at Khatij Ded. She was hardly aware of Salam’s presence, but Salam was engrossed in her, perhaps scanning her wrinkled face behind the pince-nez that she has accidently found on the footpath when a foreign lady tried to frame Khatij Ded in her camera by holding her hand.
"Can anyone know how to click?" she asked.
Salam came forward and did the rest as if he had taken countless clicks before. He directed the foreign lady to adjust her spectacles, which she did to please Salam.
After scanning the shot, she was terrified to find Khatij Ded missing from the frame, and in a state of terror she dropped her pince-nez and Khatij Ded became the sole proprietor of it. From that day on, Kahtij Ded not only added grace to her face, but she could see amazing things around her.
"Aye, Khatij Dedi, it is getting late now. Would you like to come? "I am leaving," Salam shouted joyfully.
Khatij Ded turned her head and stretched her brows, hurriedly holding the hem of her headgear, and responded in affirmation.
She put extra effort into bringing herself to life before placing herself in the boat, and Salam handily beat the rudder to take her to the other side of the Dal Lake.
"Why are you often sitting at the bund during the deepening dusk?" Salam asked.
Khatij Ded didn't say anything, delicately coiling her head like a dove in her nest. Salam cocked his wry brow and, before he could gently inquire, he discovered Khatij Ded virtually lost in her own universe. She wore the spectacle on her head, as if she were examining the sky with mystic eyes.
The sinking sun on the water film was experiencing its last dip before getting into it to solemnly proclaim the glorious dawn the next day. Khatij Ded raised her head and carefully scanned the entire area.
"Do you have any doubts that I am the Queen of this Dal Lake?" She claimed.
Salam laughed like a mad man, but Khatij Ded stayed calm and composed.
“At dusk, my grand throne is set at the bank of Dal Lake near Gagribal, and I have to summon all the fairies of the valley before dispatching them to their fairyland. This is my official duty, and I am being rewarded for it. If any fairies go missing, I have to report immediately, and these waves will carry me to the royal court up there on the Zabarwan. “She announced.
Salam slowed the pace of his boat; he was mystified about whether to laugh or to inform the daughters of Khatij Ded about her illness. He was frantically struggling to hold his ground.
"This Dal Lake has turned into a historic graveyard." Khatij Ded informed.
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Salam asked casually.
She adjusted the corners of her pheran and lovingly gazed at Salam. Her piercing gaze peered down the recesses of Salam and he could see what he had never seen.
You, men, only know how to feed your ego, a fake mania in your rotting skulls, and damage women's lives. Why do males have a choice about what they choose to live for? "How come a lady can't?" She inquired.
"A male has a choice; a woman has to submit unconditionally." Salam answered with authority.
Khatij Ded seized the rudder and, with a few gentle strokes, raised her head and motioned Salam to approach closer. He obeyed since she appeared to be a unique creature. Salam noticed a magnificent crown on her head and a slew of mysterious figures directing the boat. He almost passed out before Khatij Ded came to her aid.
On Earth, I am Khatija, but in the ether, I am a guardian of this lake. Remember, I have two selves. You're on the assignment with me. I surge and fall like this wave, never to rise again. "You are my choice."
Salam was scared. Salam was unaware that she had put the rudder into the water and that the boat had reached the shore. He looked around; everything seemed unfamiliar to him. Khatij Ded was dazzled by astonishing beauty. She was no longer an old lady, but a queen, as he had heard in his grandmother’s bedtime tales. The singing fairies greet their empress.
A fairy reported, “Oh! Majestic Queen of Lake, Naseema is missing."
"I know, that is why I came here.” Khatij Ded responded.
Salam stood like an idiot in this dream world, barely understanding the region and location. A vast floating lotus garden approached from a corner of the lake, changing with every rush of water, and the transformation was dreadful. Salam could see a massive graveyard, considerably larger than any he had seen on Earth. Every Lotus head floated like a headstone, holding a shrouded body beneath its belly. He tried to cry, but he had no idea he was now a denizen of Dal Lake, having lost all of his earthly traits.
Another kind fairy informed, "There is a private messenger from the Royal Court. You are being summoned."
A majestic wave raised its head and unfurled its splendid wings to transport Khatij Ded to Zabarwan. "Salam, you stay here. I will be back soon. Don’t go anywhere; I am leaving this pince-nez in your safe custody, "Khatij Ded directed.
Salam, in the heart of his heart, wished to remain amidst fairies to enjoy the grand opulence of the place and the peculiar atmosphere around him. The kind King tried to soothe Khatij Ded, but her cascading eyes were narrating a tale of her woes.
"Don’t worry, water nymphs are searching for her. She will be back soon. "
"So you have taken Salam to Fairyland to be the new supervisor." The King asked.
Khatij Ded lowered her head, squeezed her body, and sighed; a storm of agony leaked through her mouth.
The King came closer to her and whispered into her ear, "A gone girl sets a father on pyres too. While you mothers beat the chest, we fathers beat the consciousness in private recesses and beneath the open vast. We too sigh, but our storms are silent, for the reason that a man weeps only when he finds a humble woman beneath his breast."
A breeze passed over the court and a group of fairies arrived, "Naseema’s dead body has been found at Charchinari."
Khatij Ded cupped her head, and a wave raised its head, and on those majestic wings she was carried to Charchinari, where Naseema’s deceased body was wrapped in mud on the shore waiting to be carried.
The King only lowered his crown and sighed as he shed the green leaves of the nearby Chinar. With his departure, the leaves whirl randomly to mourn the death of a fairy.
Meanwhile, Salam adjusted the eyeglasses on his nose and in a jiffy removed them, but curiosity lured him to follow his desires. As he rested the eyeglasses on his nose, a hazy figure moved across the lake, and Salam raised his hand to hold it, but the wave passed furiously over his head, astonishing Salam.
Khatij Ded's mystic abilities were stripped away. Every gone fairy entails the death of a damsel on Earth, according to the decree. She lost her kingdom, her confidence, and the treaty for the reason that, with the death of a damsel, her powers, like the fallen leaves of a Chinar, would tumble down to be crushed by the jackboots on the earth once for all. In a coronation ceremony, Salam was raised as Supervisor of the Dal Lake, but Khatij Ded lost her crown and was imprisoned in the depths of the lake.
On her return, she found Salam crowded with fairies. They were offering him their hands, gifts, and garlands of rare gold. He smiled and whispered, "These gifts can at least fetch a good husband for my daughter."
She stroked his head, the last mystic stroke of the fallen empress, and he found his boat struggling in the backwater weeds somewhere near Charchinari, carrying the dead body of his third daughter, for whom he was considering carrying the gifts for her marriage. Wishing to see a bridegroom enter his partially sunk house boat stationed in Dal Lake's interiors. He had till date only seen mourners taking the dead bodies of his wife and two daughters to be buried under the never-filled belly of the earth.
He adjusted the spectacles once more on the nose. The hazy figure soon turned into a human face. The foreign lady that had left her pince-nez on the shore stopped at the edge of the boat that was carrying the dead body of the last left daughter of Salam.
"A supervisor of the lake ought to serve and sacrifice," she explained. Wiping his tears, Salam understood why he had lost his last daughter too.
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