“Silence…. Camera on…. Start!” The director shouted.

“I won’t drink this water.… It has worms.” Model Ruby cried, looking into the bottle of Coke. She retched and ran out of the studio to inhale fresh air.

“Shit…. How will it be recorded? She would have to be dropped off from this advertisement for her these stupidities.” The director again shouted in rage.

Ruby reached her home, driving the car rashly.

“Maasi!¹ Bring me water.” She yelled, falling herself on a sofa.

The maid hurriedly took out a bottle of water from the fridge and poured some water into a crystal clear glass.

“Maasi! Does it have worms?” She asked, sneaking a look into the glass.

“Oh, oh, my child…. I told you not to go in the desert to shoot that advertisement…. The evil spirits fell in love with the pretty faces like yours.”

“Maasi! They haven’t fallen in love, but it’s me who has fallen in love.” Ruby said, staring the maid with her red eyes.

Maid’s lips started to quiver. She was reciting Ayat-ul-Kursi<sup<2, silently. Ruby went up-stairs.

“Why the space not magnanimous?  Why the sky not blue? How the stars are dim! The moon is pale and sick…. Where the night bird lost? Why is the air squeezed? Where am I? Where have I come? Why am not there, where my soul is? Where is my soul? It has travelled centuries back — when I silently went out alone into the desert, the moonbeams danced on the miles spread sand, a lonely bird flew over the mounds and I saw my soul leaving my body and flying along with the bird, who took me there through the unknown paths, where a little family dwelled in a hut among the sand mounds. Mother gyrated the spinning wheel, stitched the patched quilt, and daughter-in-law extracted butter out of the whey. The child played with the lamb and the father took the camels to fodder. They had calm on their faces.” She thought.

Ruby felt that they were her forefathers. Huts, patched quilts, clay pots — all those were her bequest. It was the beautiful world she had lost. She didn’t know how many hours of the night she soaked in the fog, surfed in the moon rays, and travelled so many eras.

The sun arose. She started travelling back with his team. The director stopped the jeep nearby a pond which was filled with rain water. The women, wearing blue and yellow kilts, fetched water from the pond.  The director started his shooting there. Ruby stepped down and stopped by the pond. She gazed into the water. She saw swimming frogs in it.

“What will do with this water?” Ruby asked a woman. “There are frogs in it.”

“It has leeches and other worms, too.” The woman replied, smilingly.

“Will you drink it, really?”

“Yes. Should we die of thirst?”

Ruby felt that her soul, which had been drenching in the fresh air and moonlit night, again fell into the pond. The worms clasped her body. She drowned in the muddy water. She returned to the jeep. The team also returned. In the hotel, they drank crystal mineral water from the bottles but Ruby sucked her dry lips.

“Take some water.” The director said.

“I’ll never drink this water.” She said, struggling to gulp back her tears.

And then, one day she was jogging in front of highly sprouting colorful fountains in the Race Course Park to lessen the burdens from her heart, mind and soul because now she was a flop model.

….

(Translated from Saraiki by Najam-uddin Ahmad)

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