The Old Woman’s Horse
The Old Woman’s Horse

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I am unable to remember who used to tell this story about ‘The Old Woman’s Horse’. Certainly, you might also have heard this story. No, you haven’t? Then certainly you might have seen the horse of the old woman that one found in the grass, a green colored grasshopper with long legs, thin body and a wide face, having big eyes. It jumps from place to place, now here and now there. The story teller said that perhaps it is the only living thing on earth that does not know how its mother fed him. “How can it be possible that a living thing may eat and does not know?” I asked myself.
The storyteller said, “There are three nerve systems in it, one in its head, second in its body, and the third one in its tail.” Seeing him in a frolicsome mood, its mother first of all feeds its head, then its body. When this innocent creature comes to know about it, only its tail is left behind. So, both feed their hunger in this way.”
But then why this innocent thing is known as the horse of the old woman? I started thinking but I could not ponder over because my wife dominated my senses.
What had happened? My astonishment was apparent from my voice like oil dripping from hot Pakoras. Perhaps this oil had broiled my wife’s ears. She shouted angrily, “What had happened? Have you any sense? Do you know anything? Have you ever felt how miserable my life is? We have no house maid… I am tired of working all the day long. Your children don’t let me have a break even for a single moment. Now I’ve given them a bath, cladded them in new clothes, have cream on their faces but see they will become dirty again as soon as they go out… You can’t reprimand them. At least someone must have a bit control over the house.”
“Madam! Say something new. I have been hearing all this for the last eleven years, and now these words have no effect on me.” But I could not complete my sentence as usual.
“Yes Sir! If I was so old why did you marry me! I was a piece of the moon, a flower. Why didn’t you note down my age then. What’s wrong with me? Only seven years I am older than you.” My wife said this so much sentimentally that she started to cough. Her coughing was not a new thing for me.
“Oh, you misunderstand me, Naheed. I did not mean that, I used the word ‘Madam’ just by chance. The words often slip from my mouth. Otherwise, seven years…it is not a big matter. Look, I have become too old. My skin has started hanging from my bones day by day.” I tried to pour water on the flames to calm her but the flames were too high…
“Yeah…I am not so simple. I understand everything. It’s all your hypocrisy. I…I…. when I came to this house, do you remember how beautiful I was? But your family sucked all my blood. I was like an apple. My cheeks were like two blooming roses. I had dreamt of a luxurious life after marriage. I thought I would have maids waiting for my orders while I just sat on the bed leisurely. But what actually happened? All I get is just a piece of the bread; all my desires lie crushed in my heart. Now I am tired of this life.” Then she started crying, which was her most dangerous weapon.
“Oh! Now, it will hang around my neck.” I muttered to myself.
“What? What did you say? I am hanging around your neck. Yes, now I have become a burden around your neck. That slut Farzana has captivated all over your senses. Now she will destroy my home. She has been divorced, but now she has put her evil eye on my life.” This sudden turn of my wife’s attack frightened me.
“Listen, whatever you want say to me but don’t blame someone’s sister.” I made a weak attempt to settle the matter.
“Yeah, yeah, if it’s wrong, then what’s right… This shows your feelings for that slut.” My wife stopped crying.
“My love, I’m trying to tell you not to blame anyone. You must do away with this misunderstanding from your heart. I have no intimacy with anyone.” I tried to handle the situation.
“You may hide it from me as much as you like. But your words betray your expressions. You are again and again calling me old just to realize me that now you have lost your interest in me. All this chatting and meetings, preparation of her divorce papers! The day before yesterday, you withdrew five thousand rupees from your G.P. Fund What does it mean? I know you have made up your mind to marry that wretched woman….”
My wife again started crying. Her annoyance was not going to subside. It meant more trouble. I put a candy in my mouth and rolled it in my saliva.
“My love…it’s just your doubt.” I held her arms and made her sit on the bed. But she drew herself back to the foot of the bedstead. She wiped her eyes and started sobbing.
“Love… I swear.” I said, placing my hand on my head solemnly. She removed her arm from her weeping eyes. The red eyes and flowing nose made me remember the Naheed of eleven years ago when she used to meet me stealthily. She was so beautiful… so fresh and attractive….
“Really… there is nothing…?” She asked with beseeching eyes. I felt hurt.
Raising my voice as if from the depth of some dungeon, I said, “Really…there is nothing between me and her. I hate that mean….” I caressed her head to assure her.
“Then why have you drawn five thousand rupees from the G.P. Fund…” She wiped her eyes, coming closer.
“I have to get my new book of short stories published.” I said, putting my head on her shoulder.
“Tell this lie someone else,” she said, feigning disbelief….”She opened the middle button of my shirt and ran her fingers through the hair of my chest. “The book is just an excuse. In reality the money is for your wedding expenses.” She continued, closing her eyes and rubbing her nose against my shoulder.
“You do not believe in me.” I stood up. She looked at me, amazingly. Perhaps she thought I was offended and wanted me to sit down again with her. I went to the cupboard, opened it, and took out the five thousand rupees.
“Here it is. Keep it. I won’t publish my book. You may buy the television you wanted.” I said, putting the money in her hand. Then I lay down on the bed near her, unwillingly. She looked confused having the money in her hands.
“Now do you believe me that I have no plan to marry Farzana.” Naheed looked again at the money and then at me. Her eyes gleamed bright. She came closer and without saying a word put her head on my chest. I felt my being melting as ice melts under a fan. The ice melted. After sometime I felt… as if my whole body melted and only my tail remained. I had saved that money so fondly for my book. But… who can fight against fate?
Naheed was again busy in her work. I jolted my head and felt at ease. I tried to recall what I was thinking. Yeah. I remember….I was thinking why people call the grasshopper.
(Translated from Urdu by Hamza Hasan Sheikh)
****
I am unable to remember who used to tell this story about ‘The Old Woman’s Horse’. Certainly, you might also have heard this story. No, you haven’t? Then certainly you might have seen the horse of the old woman that one found in the grass, a green colored grasshopper with long legs, thin body and a wide face, having big eyes. It jumps from place to place, now here and now there. The story teller said that perhaps it is the only living thing on earth that does not know how its mother fed him. “How can it be possible that a living thing may eat and does not know?” I asked myself.
The storyteller said, “There are three nerve systems in it, one in its head, second in its body, and the third one in its tail.” Seeing him in a frolicsome mood, its mother first of all feeds its head, then its body. When this innocent creature comes to know about it, only its tail is left behind. So, both feed their hunger in this way.”
But then why this innocent thing is known as the horse of the old woman? I started thinking but I could not ponder over because my wife dominated my senses.
What had happened? My astonishment was apparent from my voice like oil dripping from hot Pakoras. Perhaps this oil had broiled my wife’s ears. She shouted angrily, “What had happened? Have you any sense? Do you know anything? Have you ever felt how miserable my life is? We have no house maid… I am tired of working all the day long. Your children don’t let me have a break even for a single moment. Now I’ve given them a bath, cladded them in new clothes, have cream on their faces but see they will become dirty again as soon as they go out… You can’t reprimand them. At least someone must have a bit control over the house.”
“Madam! Say something new. I have been hearing all this for the last eleven years, and now these words have no effect on me.” But I could not complete my sentence as usual.
“Yes Sir! If I was so old why did you marry me! I was a piece of the moon, a flower. Why didn’t you note down my age then. What’s wrong with me? Only seven years I am older than you.” My wife said this so much sentimentally that she started to cough. Her coughing was not a new thing for me.
“Oh, you misunderstand me, Naheed. I did not mean that, I used the word ‘Madam’ just by chance. The words often slip from my mouth. Otherwise, seven years…it is not a big matter. Look, I have become too old. My skin has started hanging from my bones day by day.” I tried to pour water on the flames to calm her but the flames were too high…
“Yeah…I am not so simple. I understand everything. It’s all your hypocrisy. I…I…. when I came to this house, do you remember how beautiful I was? But your family sucked all my blood. I was like an apple. My cheeks were like two blooming roses. I had dreamt of a luxurious life after marriage. I thought I would have maids waiting for my orders while I just sat on the bed leisurely. But what actually happened? All I get is just a piece of the bread; all my desires lie crushed in my heart. Now I am tired of this life.” Then she started crying, which was her most dangerous weapon.
“Oh! Now, it will hang around my neck.” I muttered to myself.
“What? What did you say? I am hanging around your neck. Yes, now I have become a burden around your neck. That slut Farzana has captivated all over your senses. Now she will destroy my home. She has been divorced, but now she has put her evil eye on my life.” This sudden turn of my wife’s attack frightened me.
“Listen, whatever you want say to me but don’t blame someone’s sister.” I made a weak attempt to settle the matter.
“Yeah, yeah, if it’s wrong, then what’s right… This shows your feelings for that slut.” My wife stopped crying.
“My love, I’m trying to tell you not to blame anyone. You must do away with this misunderstanding from your heart. I have no intimacy with anyone.” I tried to handle the situation.
“You may hide it from me as much as you like. But your words betray your expressions. You are again and again calling me old just to realize me that now you have lost your interest in me. All this chatting and meetings, preparation of her divorce papers! The day before yesterday, you withdrew five thousand rupees from your G.P. Fund What does it mean? I know you have made up your mind to marry that wretched woman….”
My wife again started crying. Her annoyance was not going to subside. It meant more trouble. I put a candy in my mouth and rolled it in my saliva.
“My love…it’s just your doubt.” I held her arms and made her sit on the bed. But she drew herself back to the foot of the bedstead. She wiped her eyes and started sobbing.
“Love… I swear.” I said, placing my hand on my head solemnly. She removed her arm from her weeping eyes. The red eyes and flowing nose made me remember the Naheed of eleven years ago when she used to meet me stealthily. She was so beautiful… so fresh and attractive….
“Really… there is nothing…?” She asked with beseeching eyes. I felt hurt.
Raising my voice as if from the depth of some dungeon, I said, “Really…there is nothing between me and her. I hate that mean….” I caressed her head to assure her.
“Then why have you drawn five thousand rupees from the G.P. Fund…” She wiped her eyes, coming closer.
“I have to get my new book of short stories published.” I said, putting my head on her shoulder.
“Tell this lie someone else,” she said, feigning disbelief….”She opened the middle button of my shirt and ran her fingers through the hair of my chest. “The book is just an excuse. In reality the money is for your wedding expenses.” She continued, closing her eyes and rubbing her nose against my shoulder.
“You do not believe in me.” I stood up. She looked at me, amazingly. Perhaps she thought I was offended and wanted me to sit down again with her. I went to the cupboard, opened it, and took out the five thousand rupees.
“Here it is. Keep it. I won’t publish my book. You may buy the television you wanted.” I said, putting the money in her hand. Then I lay down on the bed near her, unwillingly. She looked confused having the money in her hands.
“Now do you believe me that I have no plan to marry Farzana.” Naheed looked again at the money and then at me. Her eyes gleamed bright. She came closer and without saying a word put her head on my chest. I felt my being melting as ice melts under a fan. The ice melted. After sometime I felt… as if my whole body melted and only my tail remained. I had saved that money so fondly for my book. But… who can fight against fate?
Naheed was again busy in her work. I jolted my head and felt at ease. I tried to recall what I was thinking. Yeah. I remember….I was thinking why people call the grasshopper. (Translated from Urdu by Hamza Hasan Sheikh)
****
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Born on 3rd October 1956, grew up in Bahawalpur but mostly lives in Multan, Lahore, and Islamabad. He is a multifaceted writer of Urdu and Saraiki languages. He has been writing fiction since 1971, and so far, he has published more than 30 books. He is author of 7 novels in Urdu and 2 in Saraiki other than a book on the history of Multan. He wrote a few books in the area of research and criticism. Muhammad Hafeez Khan has also penned hundreds of Radio and TV plays and drama serials, contributing Radio plays for children. His journalistic work as patron editor of an English monthly and columnist in renowned Urdu dailies is also remarkable. He has been awarded𝘛𝘢𝘮𝘨𝘩𝘢-𝘦-𝘐𝘮𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘻 (Medal of Excellence), 5 National literary awards by Pakistan Academy of Letters, Pakistan Television Award and an award by Punjab Institute of Language, Art and Culture. Despite being a judge and a bureaucrat by profession, Muhammad Hafeez Khan is one of the most prominent literary figures. He has attended a large number of literary conferences and had been member of BOG of Pakistan Academy of Letters and jury of𝘒𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘭-𝘦-𝘍𝘶𝘯 award (Lifetime Achievement Award), the most prestigious literary award.
View all postsHamza Hassan Sheikh is a short-story writer, novelist, and poet, who is published in anthologies and yearbooks in China, Taiwan, UK, USA, India and Australia. He is a PhD scholar in Film Studies at the University Malaysia Sarawak (UNIMAS), Malaysia. He is an author of 15 books, 8 in English and 7 in Urdu. His books have been published in Pakistan, India and USA. Hamza Hassan Sheikh is first ever English novelist and short-story writer from his province KPK. He had received many national and international awards from Pakistan, Albania, Lebanon and Kazakhstan. He has visited Iran, India, Azerbaijan, Uzbekistan, UAE, Malaysia and Romania in his literary pursuit. Hamza Hassan Sheikh has also translated work of many international writers into Urdu and Pakistani Literature from Urdu, Punjabi, Saraiki, Hindko and Pushto into English. He has published a book — “𝑺𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕” — of translation of 50 poems of Amrita Pritam from Punjabi. He is also a participating speaker on different TV channels of Pakistan.
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Good work