دلشاد

The ghoul devoured the sheikh and his son, and I woke up from my laughter, time changed, and I am no longer Deldashad who was. I recall that day, seeing an Indian soldier in shorts standing in front of me, ordering me to stand and asking who I am. I told him: My name is Deldashad and I am from Muscat, and the ghoul swallowed my sheikh and his son, but he did not understand me even though I spoke in Urdu that I learned in Muscat market. He took me to the police station, and there they violently turned me over with hands and feet. I wanted to shout at the shoes and hats, but my laughter preceded my scream, so they became more agitated, and their strikes increased in strength. Then suddenly they stopped and threw me back into the street again, without anyone asking me anything, or even pointing a finger of accusation at my face, as if all they needed from me was to practice kicking and slapping. I dragged my body and walked through the alleys of Mumbai and its neighborhoods. The eyes of the people kept looking at my torn dishdasha and my limping walk. The eyes did not stare long, but settled briefly then dissolved, quickly surpassing my weakness and misery, and moved to another place.