FLASH FICTION

FLASH FICTION 𝒃𝒚 Khalid Fateh Muhammad

A Dvided Dream

A Dvided Dream

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In his dream, he was very excited that at last he had a dream. He had never dreamed in his life. He felt inferiority complex when he found people describing their dreams. He always asked himself: Why can’t I dream? He lost the thread of time and space, listening to others’ dreams. He always thought dreams were a fantasy, so he was sighting something real as real as his dream was. He was sitting on a bench in a park. He had never been to a park. Whenever he passed in front of any park and saw throngs of people there, he questioned their sanity. He believed that the parks provided no recreation. People would get out of their homes and go to a park in an apparent effort to enjoy themselves and in turn loose their privacy: What’s more important? Recreation or privacy? He always preferred privacy.

Now he was negating his theory, sitting in a park. But then it struck him; it was only a dream. He was clad in casuals, serene and melancholic. There was no one in the park. An empty park was like a dream. He knew parks were never empty. People left by mid-night and then drug addicts crept in clandestinely. He was told that they had their own world a world that was nothing but a fantasy of dream.

He was dreaming and his dream was not a fantasy. Unreal part of his dream was that empty park though it wasn’t midnight. Then he saw a girl walking on the pavement that passed in front of him. He couldn’t see her face, though it was exposed. But his inability was unreal because it was a dream.  The dream was as real as it could be because the girl came and sat next to him. She wore a brown dress. He gave a long look at her contour.  She had fair complexion, and a tinge of dark made her more pretty. Her nose upturned, jaw bone prominent and slightly parted lips not very thin. She seemed gasping.

She sat there like a statue. He wanted to talk something to her but was perplexed. He feared if he spoke his dream might break like the goblet that had slipped out of his fingers when he was a child. His mother him punished by giving water and milk in a metal glass for many days. Since then he had been apprehensive of breaking things. If he spoke the dream might shatter and he might be punished again. But now his mother she was no more, then who would punish him……? May be God Almighty. Better to wait!

So it’s better to keep quiet.

She sat there motionless. Was she alive? He could hear her breathings, which weren’t as labored as earlier. He knew dreams were not bound by time. He could wait until his wakening and he wasn’t willing to arise alacritous. He wanted the dream to continue at its leisurely pace. He didn’t like wild leaps of modern life. He was one of those modern people who believed in tranquility.

She was sitting on the edge of bench as if she was scared to move. What was she afraid of? Did she know that he was dreaming and if she spoke his dream might shatter? Was she a telepathist or a clairvoyant?  He looked hard at her. She sat there with her gaze fixed far away, oblivious of his presence. 

He got slightly edgy but he struggled to remain calm. He wanted his dream to linger, but he also didn’t like that dormancy. He had heard that dreams were always full of actions several diverse actions. But here was his sluggish dream as if it had been put on hiatus to start soon. Would it?

Was she alive? Hadn’t he seen her walking? He doubted but she was breathing to give sound proof of her life. Was it possible to dream in a dream?  It could be made possible but he didn’t want to take a risk. It might shatter his stalled dream and slack the one that hadn’t started yet.

He was pulled out of his dream reverie by a flash of close resemblance of the woman to his fiancée. The dream abruptly entered into the realm of fantasy, losing its reality.

She didn’t reside in the near vicinity of the park, but in a remote part of the town of modern buildings he abhorred. How could she be here? She must have been in her cozy bed instead of sitting on a bench of that desolate park. She wasn’t there. He was in the midst of a dream and dreams could drift away anyone anywhere; they are free from fetters of time and space.

She is sitting here next to me and I must take the opportunity to talk to her and make her realize that she was sitting next to her fiancé.  He mused. Would that shatter his dream? Then he thought. He did not want his dream to be shattered. Let her sit there and gaze inconsequentially into nothingness.

Was it a feeling or did it happen? He felt her move. He looked at her stealthily from the corner of his eyes. She sat with her unchanged posture. He thought: Is my mind playing tricks with me? I have been sitting too long in a state of dream. Am I not dreaming?  Yes, I’m undeniably.

Something unexpected happened or was he expecting it? She got up, looked around, straightened her dress and started walking towards the gate with an aura of regality. He also got up to follow her. She looked oblivion of her surroundings. She went through the gate.

Main road of the town passed in front of the park. Traffic was not heavy but still sufficiently enough for someone to cross the road carelessly. She looked at the right, and then the left sides of the road.  She paused a little hesitatingly and then stepped forward. She was moving deliberately too deliberately to be real. Was she also in a dream? Only he could be in a dream because it was his dream and he was physically present in it. Was she also in her dream like him? Was it possible they were simultaneously dreaming the same dream? Off course, it could be like two identical persons born at the same time in the different parts of the world.

She was few paces onto the road from the pavement and head lights of a high-speed car were getting closer. Either she had not seen it or she didn’t care it at all or she was too confident of herself. The car got closer and closer. He wanted to warn her irrespective of shattering of his dream. The car was almost on her, brakes screeched. He bellowed and ran towards her. The car had stopped. She looked back at him, smiled coquettishly and crossed the road with her distinctive aura of regality.

….

(Self-translation from Punjabi)

 

****

In his dream, he was very excited that at last he had a dream. He had never dreamed in his life. He felt inferiority complex when he found people describing their dreams. He always asked himself: Why can’t I dream? He lost the thread of time and space, listening to others’ dreams. He always thought dreams were a fantasy, so he was sighting something real as real as his dream was. He was sitting on a bench in a park. He had never been to a park. Whenever he passed in front of any park and saw throngs of people there, he questioned their sanity. He believed that the parks provided no recreation. People would get out of their homes and go to a park in an apparent effort to enjoy themselves and in turn loose their privacy: What’s more important? Recreation or privacy? He always preferred privacy.

Now he was negating his theory, sitting in a park. But then it struck him; it was only a dream. He was clad in casuals, serene and melancholic. There was no one in the park. An empty park was like a dream. He knew parks were never empty. People left by mid-night and then drug addicts crept in clandestinely. He was told that they had their own world a world that was nothing but a fantasy of dream.

He was dreaming and his dream was not a fantasy. Unreal part of his dream was that empty park though it wasn’t midnight. Then he saw a girl walking on the pavement that passed in front of him. He couldn’t see her face, though it was exposed. But his inability was unreal because it was a dream.  The dream was as real as it could be because the girl came and sat next to him. She wore a brown dress. He gave a long look at her contour.  She had fair complexion, and a tinge of dark made her more pretty. Her nose upturned, jaw bone prominent and slightly parted lips not very thin. She seemed gasping.

She sat there like a statue. He wanted to talk something to her but was perplexed. He feared if he spoke his dream might break like the goblet that had slipped out of his fingers when he was a child. His mother him punished by giving water and milk in a metal glass for many days. Since then he had been apprehensive of breaking things. If he spoke the dream might shatter and he might be punished again. But now his mother she was no more, then who would punish him……? May be God Almighty. Better to wait!

So it’s better to keep quiet.

She sat there motionless. Was she alive? He could hear her breathings, which weren’t as labored as earlier. He knew dreams were not bound by time. He could wait until his wakening and he wasn’t willing to arise alacritous. He wanted the dream to continue at its leisurely pace. He didn’t like wild leaps of modern life. He was one of those modern people who believed in tranquility.

She was sitting on the edge of bench as if she was scared to move. What was she afraid of? Did she know that he was dreaming and if she spoke his dream might shatter? Was she a telepathist or a clairvoyant?  He looked hard at her. She sat there with her gaze fixed far away, oblivious of his presence. 

He got slightly edgy but he struggled to remain calm. He wanted his dream to linger, but he also didn’t like that dormancy. He had heard that dreams were always full of actions several diverse actions. But here was his sluggish dream as if it had been put on hiatus to start soon. Would it?

Was she alive? Hadn’t he seen her walking? He doubted but she was breathing to give sound proof of her life. Was it possible to dream in a dream?  It could be made possible but he didn’t want to take a risk. It might shatter his stalled dream and slack the one that hadn’t started yet.

He was pulled out of his dream reverie by a flash of close resemblance of the woman to his fiancée. The dream abruptly entered into the realm of fantasy, losing its reality.

She didn’t reside in the near vicinity of the park, but in a remote part of the town of modern buildings he abhorred. How could she be here? She must have been in her cozy bed instead of sitting on a bench of that desolate park. She wasn’t there. He was in the midst of a dream and dreams could drift away anyone anywhere; they are free from fetters of time and space.

She is sitting here next to me and I must take the opportunity to talk to her and make her realize that she was sitting next to her fiancé.  He mused. Would that shatter his dream? Then he thought. He did not want his dream to be shattered. Let her sit there and gaze inconsequentially into nothingness.

Was it a feeling or did it happen? He felt her move. He looked at her stealthily from the corner of his eyes. She sat with her unchanged posture. He thought: Is my mind playing tricks with me? I have been sitting too long in a state of dream. Am I not dreaming?  Yes, I’m undeniably.

Something unexpected happened or was he expecting it? She got up, looked around, straightened her dress and started walking towards the gate with an aura of regality. He also got up to follow her. She looked oblivion of her surroundings. She went through the gate.

Main road of the town passed in front of the park. Traffic was not heavy but still sufficiently enough for someone to cross the road carelessly. She looked at the right, and then the left sides of the road.  She paused a little hesitatingly and then stepped forward. She was moving deliberately too deliberately to be real. Was she also in a dream? Only he could be in a dream because it was his dream and he was physically present in it. Was she also in her dream like him? Was it possible they were simultaneously dreaming the same dream? Off course, it could be like two identical persons born at the same time in the different parts of the world.

She was few paces onto the road from the pavement and head lights of a high-speed car were getting closer. Either she had not seen it or she didn’t care it at all or she was too confident of herself. The car got closer and closer. He wanted to warn her irrespective of shattering of his dream. The car was almost on her, brakes screeched. He bellowed and ran towards her. The car had stopped. She looked back at him, smiled coquettishly and crossed the road with her distinctive aura of regality.

….

(Self-translation from Punjabi)

****

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Author

  • Born on April 19, 1946; Khalid Fateh Muhammad is a renowned and prolific Urdu fiction writer, translator, critic and analyst of Pakistan — known for writing stories of unusual social observation. He has versatile art of writing, highly appreciated in the literary circle. In his short-stories and novels, he has established the ideas about social justice, poverty, hunger, thrust, and socio political issues prevailing in the society with natural, original and out spoken characters. His work has been highly acclaimed by the Urdu critics.His family migrated from Gurdaspur East Punjab and settled in a village of Gujranwala district. While studying in Government College Gujranwala, he joined Pakistan Army. After retirement as Major, he settled in Gujranwala Cantt in 1993, and started writing. He has published twelve novels, seven collections of short stories and six books of translations from English — four Turkish novels, one German novel and one collection of Chinese stories. He also publishes a quarterly literary magazine “𝘈𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘬” from Gujranwala, Pakistan, which is considered as one of the important Urdu literary journals.

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Rehan Islam
8 months ago

Great Writer.

Fiction
A Dvided Dream
The Last Rain
A Dvided Dream
𝘗𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦/𝘗𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘍𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯/𝘗𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝐀 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝘣𝘺 𝐊𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐡 𝐌𝐮𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐝 This a symbolic story depicting two persons passing through the same dream. The story depicts a man dreaming and imagining his fiancée dreaming the same dream. A fantasy in an eloquent style and depicted deftly by the writer. Here is an extract from the story: 𝘐𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘹 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧: 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮?... 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺. 𝘜𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵… 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮… 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺.
Khalid Fateh Muhammad
The Lingo Lexicon
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