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PORTRAIT (A short story by Eqbal Hasan Azad)

(Translated from Urdu to English by

Naeem Baig)

A little far away from the population, it’d come the dense forests and he always had a

fear from forests. . Son of Ram Din Gardener who was a few years older than him,

most of the times took him along towards the forest. As far deep in the forest sparse,

it seems to be great sunlight and he enjoyed it. But the moment darkness emerged

on their heads; he used to ask, “Let’s move back, Sakhoo”.

And Sakhoo always smiled at him, as he intended to go further but he was scared of

his master.

Through the shadows of time had spread on everything. Memories swabbed away

ages and it looked like an old tree whose stems are more than empty and awaiting

for a sharp wind. He had forgotten lot of things and lot of places. He was almost out

of his mind. He had also forgotten the face of his father as more than forty years had

passed since his funeral. His elder son was born after this tragedy. These days he was

enjoying his first posting with as newlywed with her beautiful wife in a remote area

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that was based in the far flung city. At that time, normal telephone service was not

available. No television and the news about the death or birth were normally aired

through popular source of telegrams. But sometimes even it become late. Thus, after

receiving the news, when he arrived home, he found that his father has already been

buried and thus he could not sight the face of his father before its burial, however,

his older sister, who was taken along with her husband, in the close city was on time.

His sister after the Chehlum went with her husband and he brought his mother to the

city. The town house was locked.

Sometimes he felt that quite a thick forest have grown up in his mind where high

dense trees meeting together up in the air stopping the sunlight leaving below a

deep darkness. He used to boggle up deep in his sleep at nights. Sweat drops on his

forehead, he seemed to and tried to read Quran verses seven times and tried to

sleep again, but it never caught by him. He usually were skipping sleep shortly again.

It never worked and he knew the sleep in the old age was like raw clay pot that

dissolved itself.

Even he has forgotten his own age. Sometimes he thought he is seventy, again it

seemed him seventy five. Relaxing in the chair on the balcony in the sunlight in

winter-days, he calculated his age at his fingers while sunny warm rays calmed his

elderly bones. His wife had a doubt that his senses were leaving him gradually. She

was concerned by his living. But in fact it was not like that. He read the newspapers

and watched the TV quite interestingly. It seemed him alike lot of the world has

changed. The last time his son came to meet him; he brought a cellular phone for

him. Sometimes he compared the changed world with his own time and had strange

feelings about it. Again he would feel a bit odd from his own world. Nevertheless he

was quite satisfied that his death news would reach to him in time.

In the dense forests when the wind blew the trees, they were separated from each

other for a few moments making noise and the sun took advantage of this

opportunity and its rays reached to the earth. Loneliness spread its wings in his mind

and he often lethargically resting in his mind, in isolation amid memories and then

suddenly lots of light emerged in his eyes. But still he exactly could not recall what

alike his father was? Though, Yes! Many things, ranging from youth to the days of

childhood, which belonged to his father, were clear to him.

He had a big house in his small old town. A long veranda surrounded by round

pillars from the road side. After that spacious drawing room comes, and from the

lobby, it was open from three sides. In the middle there was big courtyard having

one door to the street side and finally six big bedrooms and a store room at the end.

His father had been keeping keen interest in having the antiques and old fashioned

households was ever a strange but in appreciable order. Often his mother wanted

him to throw away some useless item but on his father's advice it was shifted in the

storeroom. He always used Persian idiom “Dashta aied bakaar,” and his mother was

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irritant to this idiom listening all the time from him. She thought his father was a

quite gentleman and had have respect in his eyes about ladies. This ancestral house

was once his father’s residence after his retirement.

Most of the days his father had have lived his life in small official quarters. He was

simultaneously affectionate and hardliner. He remembered in his early youth days

when he used to have meals with his father and in some occurrences; his father had

put something tasty or a good piece of meat in his dish for him. He had also recalled

that his father often facilitated him in his baths and if he did something mischievous,

he used to have a ruthless hard slap on his cheek while bathing. When he started to

go to school, his father was supposed to have a long stick with him while teaching

him.

He had remembered many of the foggy-faces of his father’s friends. He knew their

features as well. He had memorized one of the red cap and a roofless car. He

remembered father’s registry office, where he retired. Red Victorian-style building

surrounded by big round pillars long veranda and doors which opened and closed

like bright pixel green colour shuttered the door. He still remembered a great big

hall, the summit bringing and benches, and outside in the middle of the open

courtyard in front of the office Union Jack was hoisted in the centre. When the

meeting ended he had used to play with Sakhoo. Sometimes his elder sister had

come in search of him and had taken back him along. Often, he moved into a small

quarter of Gardener where mother of Sakhoo used to feed him steaming warm Littee.

One day his sister told everything to her mother and he was terribly beaten on eating

something from gardener’s house and he being scared pissed off in his pant.

In those days, it was a big change around. It begun as in the forests like many snakes,

scorpions, tigers and Leopards, bears and monkeys moved across the Earth. These

days his father was very concerned. One day, he heard his mother saying.

"All the people are going. Take example of your elder brother, his wife and children,

why not we moving...? "

'' Not at all.'' His father was harsh. He echoed loud then fell silent.

And then don't know where from a jungle grown up with the people. Crying and

howling people with dirge naked and hungry filled the entire open plain.

Lorries made it denser, full of men across the forest, with no space to live for them.

Then several months after keeping the surrounding areas full of such dirt, it started

vanishing gradually like as clouds disappeared from the skies and sun seemed to see

the people on earth as usual but extracting a few things like red round caps, all the

lorries filled with uniformed people, cars without roofs vanished and a flag was

hoisted in tricolour instead of Union Jack. These days I was thirteen only I remember.

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After that winter almost one year later father get retired. A group-photo was taken

out in this great courtyard. His father sat on the chair in the middle wearing suit.

Others on the left to the right were some Officers. In the back row drivers, street

sweeper, accountants, and surrounding people. The remaining members sat of the

courtyard with their families included as well on the floor. He and his older sister

were sitting close to their father. His father wore big yellow flowers necklace around

his neck and a photographer took that group photograph from a camera which was

hidden in a black sheets around it. After retirement, when his father returned to his

native house, the group photo was got framed and was dangled on the drawing

room wall.

It remained hung on the wall for a long time. Then don't know how this picture was

got away from the drawing room. Might be when his elder sister was getting married

and all the house was repainted again. At that time it was put in the store room.

The pension of his father was very meagre and there was no more property than this

small house. When he declared fail in his Matric examination, though his father did

not beat him but he was shaken in anger and had said if he could not clear it next

time he will be thrown out of the house barely naked. But it had not happened again

with him. He studied throughout the year and got it cleared next year and he was

admitted a nearby city’s college.

Sometimes in search of a news channel he used to press remote control’s button and

suddenly a channel appears on the screen displaying honking school kids on the

streets in the odd and haphazard clothes. He always thought that the world has

changed indeed he switched the channel to news but when he witnessed the same

dirt and blood on the roads alike it really happened in his past then he thought

nothing has changed and then he turned off the TV and started reading his books.

One day he came across his book shelf in the wall-closet and found a novel named

“Portrait of a lady.” Though he has read this novel several times before but now by

seeing this title he went into his nostalgic feelings and flushed again as it brightened

invisible boxes in his minds. It was those days when he had come to his house after

passing his BA exams he had gone through a strange event. The day his father was

got retired, a nearby house had went ablaze terribly and everything in that house

turned into ashes including owner Ram Odesh singh’s very important papers. Those

documents had included a Sale-deed of the same house which had gone ablaze. His

father had registered those documents in his office. When he told his father about

this incident, his father was instantly got ready to help him to get a new Sale-deed

from his old office by influence of his relationship. Ram Odesh Singh was so happy

for this favour that he in return he presented him a big portrait of his father. It was

painted by his artist son and that portrait was also hung up on the wall of the

Drawing Room of the same house.

After the death of his father, he had brought her in the city and town house was

locked. He used to take his mother back to the town house whenever she felt sad or

gloomy for some of the days and again brought her back. In this way, several years

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passed. During this time many good and bad things happened. His mother and his

elder sister died and his wife had given birth to three children, a boy and two girls. In

the meantime he got several promotions and became a senior Officer. His wife

always asked him to sale the town house but he didn’t get enough time to dispose it

off. However he used to go the town and looked after his father’s house and

sometime did little repairs in it and got back home. He wanted to rent it out so that

someone could take care of this house but in such a small town where everything

was static like grimy pond, he could not find such a person or family. Then he found

a person who would live with his family in that house and also would take care of it.

By this arrangement he suddenly felt him absolved from taking care of the house.

However he used to send the tenant a few buck for its annual repair etc.

In those days he was stationed in the border region surrounded by dense forest and

then the smell of blood and the gunpowder was rushing into his nostril from the

forests which lead to the memory of his father in his mind. One day in the nearby

plains, noise of the Lorries, crying and weeping people and starving faces appeared

again. Tents and footprints of big boots again seen and somebody told him that his

Uncle with his family was martyred. He remained calm but so many days he could

not sleep well. He used to run his life spending in different cities where he was

posted and finally reached to this city where he intended to get his retirement. He

bought there a good big flat. His son after completing his education went outside

the country and both the girls were married.

He used to walk in the nearby park where one day an old man met him, who had

just visited his old house in the village was seemed much joyful and talkative. From

the conversation it was not difficult for someone to judge that he has spent a few

days in his ancestral house that had made him pleased so much. On the way back his

home he also missed his ancestral house a lot, and besides he missed his father too.

But the strange thing was that he didn’t remember the face of his father. He thought

to go the ancestral house but had no excuse to visit that house. He tried to find

some of the picture of his father but in vain. He could not find any of it. His wife

asked him what in fact he was trying to find in every place but he just ignored her

and sorted out all the albums of old pictures but nothing held photo of his father.

One day after 2: 00 pm when he had been relaxing on his post lunch, when door’s

call bell banged suddenly. He opened the door and found one stranger old man

standing on the door. He told him that he is coming straight from the town. He

further told him that the town is turning into big city now and property prices are

going high because of the inflow of new inhabitants. He asked him whether he

wanted to sale this house to him. In the meantime his wife has also come close to

him. She accepted stranger’s offer as they wanted to sell this house as soon as

possible. From this conversation he recalled the portrait of his father which was lying

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somewhere in the storeroom. He decided to bring back that portrait and would hang

in his Drawing Room.

After ten days he decided to go the town. For his arrival he has already sent the

information to the stranger. His wife also got ready to accompany him as she might

get something of importance of her taste from the junk in the house. He told his

brother-in-law in confidence who agreed with him. The day when he proceeded for

his town house, he missed his father too badly. When they reached in the town it was

almost evening. The sky was filled with small clouds floating in the air which has

made the weather a little hazy. The tenant had already known their arrival and was

ready to welcome them. He had been keeping the house clean. He had made

enough arrangement for his stay and dinner and so they decided to go to the bed

early. In the late night, the rain begun to shower torrentially with thundering and he

could not sleep for the rest of the night. However his wife was sleeping quietly.

The next morning they visited the entire house. He went on the backyard of the

house when they were used to grow vegetables. Now there were strange bushes

grown around.

His wife was talking with the caretaker tenant and since he has no interest with their

conversation, he decided to go to the storeroom. Though he had no hurry but he

wanted to see the portrait. He had a curiosity in the back of his mind. The storeroom

was not locked but it was just closed. He pushed the door and opened it. It was dark

in the room and strange smell popped up. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket

and put it on his nose. He tried to see in the dark. When his eyes become capable to

see in the semi darkness, he tried to observe the storeroom. There were lot of

fixtures, furniture, iron boxes, mud pots and a big wooden closet. Finally his eyes

could wedge the portrait standing in the one corner. It was covered with dust and

spider’s web and he could not able to see it clearly. He managed to open the window

of the storeroom for the more light. Room was now a bit brightened. The portrait

was standing with the wall. He looked on the portrait standing in front of it. So it was

his father. He recalled it, was same grey hair, square forehead, thick eyebrows, heavy

eyelids, slim nose, skinny lips with big jaws. He was speechless and forgot to blink his

eyes. Suddenly he heard some steps inside the store. He turned boggled. His wife

was standing in the door surprisingly watching him. When he stared on his wife, she

asked abruptly, “why are you standing in front of the mirror.”

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AUTHOR Dr. Eqbal Hasan Azad, Mungar, Bihar, INDIA

Email eqbalhasan35@yahoo.com

Translated by Naeem Baig, Lahore Pakistan

Email skanz.ex@gmail.com

Lahore June, 2014.