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    Memoirs of an Afghan Village: A Collection of Pashto Short Stories in English Translation
    Memoirs of an Afghan Village: A Collection of Pashto Short Stories in English Translation
    Memoirs of an Afghan Village: A Collection of Pashto Short Stories in English Translation
    Ebook126 pages1 hour

    Memoirs of an Afghan Village: A Collection of Pashto Short Stories in English Translation

    By M. Zarin Anzor

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    This book is a collection of 17 short stories. All these stories reflect Pashtun customs and culture. Some of them even reflect a part of contemporary history of Afghanis tan and the tragedy of war in Afghanistan and it shows how Afghans even lot of difficulties, fight for their freedom. But it also talks about those warlords that use peoples pure feelings for their own benefits and then call it Jihad.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateAug 17, 2015
    ISBN9789936802018
    Memoirs of an Afghan Village: A Collection of Pashto Short Stories in English Translation

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      Book preview

      Memoirs of an Afghan Village - M. Zarin Anzor

      Memoirs of an Afghan Village 

      A collection of Pashto short stories in English translation

      M. Zarin Anzor

      Translated into English by Arley Loewen & Homayun Hotak

      Memoirs of an Afghan Village

      Author: M. Zarin Anzor

      Translated into English: Arley Loewen and Homayun Hotak

      Cover: Nemat Rohan

      Illustrator: Najibullah Miherzad

      Copyright © Rahmat Publications, Afghanistan, 2011 

      e-PUB: Mohammad Hassan Ibraimi

      ISBN: 978-9936-8020-1-8

      In the Name of God

      Contents

      Foreword: Zarin Anzor – A Voice from Inside

      Memoirs of Our Village

      Goluna and the Springs

      Dark Clouds

      On the Edge of Spinghar Mountain

      Shouting

      Robbery

      Loss

      Blind Spots

      The Target

      Jewels

      Bones

      Tired Steps

      Room Number 1358

      Hallway Seven

      The Last Decree

      The Palace

      Our Honor

      Zarin Anzor - A Voice from Inside

      From ancient times to our modern era, Afghanistan has always been a country dotted with walls. Traditional family compounds known as qalas (forts), especially in Pashtun areas, are almost impassable because of massive mud or brick walls. When someone purchases property nowadays, the new owner makes certain that solid walls surround the property before he begins building a home. Each wall must be high enough to keep outsiders from looking inside the courtyard. Life inside the courtyard is for the family and a few relatives and confidants.

      The wall serves as a metaphor of heavy curtains that hang over people’s lives and their personal feelings. For the Pashtuns especially, inner thoughts and feelings of aspiration and despondency are private, not meant for others. 

      Society does not encourage self-expression. So how can someone who lives behind such heavy walls reflect his or her thoughts and emotions to outsiders? Moreover, how can someone from the outside learn about life behind these walls? Although anthropologists have tried to reflect the thoughts and emotions of Pashtun people, such studies have tended to be academic and over-generalized. 

      How much better when we can listen to a Pashtun tell his own story, his experiences from his own village and the ebb and flow of urban life, the frustrations of political turmoil, frequent regime change and government corruption. Such stories, emerging from behind the walls of an enclosed culture, unveil the muffled voices of a hidden and almost unknown world. Similar to other forms of art such as music, film and traditional crafts, the short story becomes a window into a culture. 

      In the seventeen short stories published in this edition of Pashto short stories, Mohammad Zarin Anzor has drawn back the curtains of Afghan culture and allowed us to glimpse inside. Anzor’s Pashtun village and urban settings reflect stereotypical honor-killings and the plight of women and girls in Pashtun society. Yet, in some of the stories, we step inside a Pashtun who struggles with his or her own conscience and hypocrisy. 

      A number of the selections are conventional memoirs and personal reflections rather than stories with a structure of plot, challenge, character development and climax. Some of the stories have a strange feel for a non-Afghan reader, but as satirical memoirs, they portray the inconsistencies between practice and religion, the demands of tribal expectations and the typical deprivations and plight of ordinary Afghans. 

      In the stories of Pashtun village life such as Memoirs of Our Village, Goluna and the Springs, and On the Edge of Spinghar Mountain, Anzor portrays both the ease and horror of honor-killings from different perspectives. Another village story, Dark Clouds, reveals the inconsistency of conventional male dominance. 

      Usually an assassin kills for money. But in Blind Spots, Anzor draws the reader into the killer’s mind who struggles with his conscience in a new way. Loss, another assassin story, is much more predictable. Money supersedes all other values, as it does in Robbery.

      Stories such as The Target, The Palace, Last Decree and Room Number 1358 are political and satirical memoirs, reflecting the writer’s disgust with foreign intervention and despotic regimes. Continuing in the vein of satire, Anzor echoes his personal aversion at the senseless and bloody civil strife and destruction of the 1990s in Jewels, Tired Steps, Bones and Our Honor.  In only one story are we offered a pleasant and positive surprise—in the short memoir Hallway Seven." 

      I congratulate Mr. Anzor for using his pen to reflect both the struggles and aspirations of ordinary Afghan Pashtuns. 

      Arley Loewen (PhD)

          Operation Mercy Afghanistan 

      Memoirs of Our Village

      "S he is innocent, completely innocent! My daughter is innocent! My daughter didn’t do any of those things! You say Gharani did those things? Impossible! They are accusing her with their words. Gharani is innocent! Enemies are accusing her! These are false charges … false accusations!"

      This is what Gharani’s mother was telling everyone who came to their home. Even before they greeted her, Gharani’s mother would speak what was in her heart. All she could think of was how innocent her daughter was.  

      One week had passed since Gharani had left her husband’s home for the home of her father. Her father, mother, and brothers had compelled her to come. 

      A commotion arose in the village. It soon spread to every corner of the village, through every street, in every home and mosque, that Gharani had been caught with Zaman—and that Zaman had been killed. 

      Zaman had been killed by Jabari, Gharani’s husband. 

      The rumor spread throughout the entire village, but many  wondered why Gharani hadn’t been killed together with Zaman. Everyone in the village knew about it; people were speaking about it everywhere.

       Jabari had hinted that his wife had been socializing with Zaman. With narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, Jabari said, I’m going to get rid of her, just like I did Zaman. I will send her after him. I’ll do the same to her as I did to him.   

      But again, people wondered, Why they hadn’t been killed together? Why was she still alive?

      One day earlier, Gharani’s parents and brothers had brought her back to their home. Gharani had two sons—one of them two-and-a-half years old; the other had turned one. They left the boys with Jabari and brought Gharani home. She wept as she said, They are lying … they are accusing me falsely. 

      Her mother would tell the people that Zaman was killed for no reason; he was Jabari’s cousin and the two hadn’t gotten along with each other for a long time already. Lots of things had gone on between them. Jabari had been planning something against him for some time.  

      The people who heard this were surprised that Jabari blamed his wife, Gharani, the mother of their two sons. How was it possible to do such a thing?

      But Jabari would say, I know her well. I will get rid of her with my own hands.

      Gharani’s mother said it again, I won’t let Gharani be put to death! She is innocent, she is a decent girl. She had no relationship with Zaman. Jabari is lying.

      Gharani was a beautiful dark-colored girl. She had been given in marriage to Jabari four years earlier when she was still very young. It wasn’t that she was the only beautiful girl in the village, though her dark complexion, medium height, bright eyes and happy nature made her likable to all. But Jabari wasn’t as good-looking as Gharani.

      The village women used to say, He isn’t suitable for Gharani.  

      But now people were confused and perplexed. How could Gharani have done this? How could Zaman have done this? Up til now, no one had thought that they had done anything bad. If they had, why hadn’t Jabari killed them both?

      Now that she was back in her father’s home, how would it turn out? What would people say? What would the village say?

       Everyone in the village had a gun on their shoulders. The

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