Haji was critically ill when I was summoned by his family.
Although I’m no doctor, I can see the Angel of Death. People call me in to find out whether sick relatives will die or not. The villagers have tested me many times; my predictions have never been wrong.
The Angel always comes alone, yet never departs alone.
When I reached Haji’s bedside, he was already there, a smile on his face.
“It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile,” I observed.
The Angel replied, “I smile only for those who go with me... and it’s not Haji’s turn.”
[This is a guest post by Mubashir Zaidi, a TV news producer based in Karachi. His new collection of short-short stories, Namak Paaray, was released on May 1... about which more later.]
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
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1 comment:
I think you expressed it well in your note to me in response to different item from the subcontinent:
Ow.
Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow.
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