GIA TORTLADZE
STORIES
This book is dedicated to all my friends that have perished.
Publishing House “Nekeri”
Gia Tortladze
STORIES
Translate by Tamuna Japaridze
Layout and cover design: Giorgi Bagrationi
Gia Tortladze, 2012
Publishing House “Nekeri”, 2012
All rights reserved
ISBN 978-9941-436-41-3
CONTENTS
HAZRAT VALI………………………………………………….. ……………..6
GRANDFATHER FROST……………………………………………………...14
BY AND BY……………………………………………………………………19
A DREAM………………………………………………………………………22
TEMUR………………………………………………………………………….25
FAR AWAY, IN CARTAGENA……………………………………………….29
A FRAGMENT………………………………………………………………….34
SAMDO………………………………………………………………………….37
KARAKUM……………………………………………………………………...40
ONCE UPON A TIME…………………………………………………………. 46
MARGOT………………………………………………………………………. 50
1921…………………………………………………………………………….. 63
THE BRAND LABEL OF THE MAGLIANOS……………………………….. 64
THOSE WERE BETTER TIMES………………………………………………. 78
ABDUL KARIM………………………………………………………………... 85
A NEPALI STORY………………………………………………………………88
THE KING OF MUSTANG……………………………………………………..93
IT USED TO BE VERY NICE, INDEED……………………………………….96
IN THE DESERT……………………………………………………………….. 99
STRAY DOGS………………………………………………………………….103
THE CAPTAIN…………………………………………………………………106
A PILGRIM……………………………………………………………………..110
HOMECOMING………………………………………………………………..111
AUTUMN ARRIVED…………………………………………………………. 116
HAZRAT VALI
The story was told by Hazrat Vali’s
cousin on a rainy evening, at the foot
of Nanga-Patra[1]
It was dark in Diamroi[2]. Nobody visits the gorge of Diamir after dark. The paths running along the top of the cliff are narrow, and one can fall into the yawning gap any moment.
Nobody understands the language of Diamroi people. Strangely enough, every village in the gorge has its own language. On the whole, there are spoken fifty languages in Pakistan. Urdu is their common language though, spoken and understood by everyone.
To my mind, there is no other place in the whole country, whose inhabitants are as crazy about arms as the population of the gorge, especially in the village of Diamroi located at the mouth of the gorge.
Hazrat Vali was coming back from a date.
He was desperately in love with Shafia. The two managed to meet from time to time at the appointed place. They both ran a risk of dying for that. Shafia was engaged to Mahmad Omar. Their parents decided on this marriage long ago. Such deals are called mangetain Pakistan. Those who infringe on its rules must die.
The customs and traditions have become milder in North Pakistan - in Hunza, Gilgit, Baltistan, and Hushe. Women there can go out into the street alone and even talk with a stranger.
Nevertheless, in the land of Chilas, in the gorge of Diamir, nothing has changed. Women are deprived of all rights. They can go out only in the company of their close relatives.
The medieval customs are still very influential there.
***
Hazrat Vali went into the house. He opened the door very silently and slipped inside more like a thief than a host. It was dark in the house; only a minute oil lamp was lit somewhere in the corner.
“They’ll kill you,” – his mother, Kurishan, said to him, “Nobody in Diamroi is allowed to date with the woman belonging to another man.”
“Shafia is mine! She can’t belong to anyone else! We shall soon run away from here.”
“They’ll still find you! Karim Ula Beg was found in Lahor and killed there, Badar was killed in Peshevar and the others couldn’t even go further than Chilas!”
“We shall see! We are not going through Chilas; we’ll go across the mountain range and get to Bisham.”
“I have warned you. You are not going to kill only yourself, but also the poor girl.”
“Perhaps, it’s the only way out.”
“Mind, I shouldn’t know when you are going to leave and which way you are going to take. I can’t say a lie, you know.”
“I do.”
***
Early next morning Hazrat Vali was visited by Inamur Haki, Shafia’s relative.
“My uncle suspects something wrong. He didn’t believe Shafia when she told him she had gone out into the toilet. He said she was hot and tired when she came back. If he realizes what’s going on, they will kill you both – Shafia first, you next. Mahmad Omar’s relatives are also making a fuss about it. They, too, might have smelt a rat. Please, please go away and give up your crazy idea!”
“I can’t go away without her. Let it happen if it is our fate.”
“Let Allah and your late father Liver Han’s soul be with you, and let them both protect you! Remember, we haven’t seen each other today!”
***
Next day Hazrat Vali couldn’t manage to inform Shafia about his plan. He couldn’t trust anybody, for he knew, nobody would sympathize with him. He was going to commit a terrible crime, thus putting shame on two families – Shafia’s and Mahmad Omar’s.
According to the local custom, it was the woman’s family who had to punish their daughter. As for Hazrat Vali himself, he should be executed by Mahmad Omar’s relatives. Somewhere deep in his heart he felt guilty. He remembered well what his mother told him earlier. His grandfather had killed his daughter, Hazrat Vali’s aunt, Nasira, and her sweetheart in the corn field. Nasira hadn’t been engaged to anyone. She simply dared to date with a man. It was a terrible insult for the family.
Poor Nasira was only seventeen.
Having killed his daughter, Jangirhan walked tall in Diamroi the very next day. He followed the tradition and honored the custom. Now his family was free of the terrible shame.
It’s very strange, but these ruthless people never use a sword or a knife when killing their kith and kin for adultery; they do it with a gun.
***
In the end, Hazrat Vali managed to catch Shafia’s cock in the rye field and tied a sign on its leg.
Shafia had to come to the appointed place at night, and they would leave Diamroi at once. Hazrat Vali prepared everything they needed for the trip: supply of food and water enough for two days, and necessary clothes.
“Once we reach Ravalpindi, I’ll get some job there. I can do any odd job if we are together. Ravalpindi is a huge city. Nobody is going to find us there,” he said.
The two met each other near the hill of Blind Rahmada.
“We’re leaving! There is no other way out. If we don’t leave tonight, our relations will be over. We shall be very happy together, Shafia!”
Shafia hugged him and started to cry. They were sitting caressing each other for a while.
“It’s time to go!” Hazrat Vali said, “There is a long way ahead. We must put our best foot forward.”
Suddenly there came an unexpected light from the side of their village. Shafia was thrown back to the rocks and Hazrat Vali heard a horrible sound. His blood curdled in his veins.
Shafia was lying on her back. The bullet had run straight through her throat. It was only now that Hazrat Vali realized what had happened. Astonished he looking at Shafia, then at the little oil lamp that was blazing at his feet.
“Why on earth have I lit it? Why?!” he thought in despair.
The same light came from the village again. Twice this time.
Hazrat Vali was running down the gorge as fast as he could. He was sucking his thumb and groaning with pain and despair. Something cold was running down his elbow.