Doe (Short Story)

Written By: Hafizullah Turab 

Translated By: Kalimullah Turab

The sadness had sealed everyone’s lips. His wife wept quietly in her heart, mourning their misfortune. She tried to reassure herself, but found no peace. In desperation, she prayed fervently to God for his safe return. In the afternoon, God accepted her prayers, and Jani Uncle entered the house holding his gun. The children rushed to him and stood frozen for a moment. As they noticed their father’s empty hands, one of them asked,

“Father! Haven’t you brought me a pigeon?”

Before he could answer, his mother interrupted and said angrily:

“Be grateful that he came back alive.”

At that moment, Uncle Jani settled beside the wall and let out a heavy sigh, his heart weighed down with sorrow. Observing his uncertain melancholy, Badrey spoke to him with genuine sympathy:

“God has mercy on us. Do you know what happened today? Listen to me! I am telling you that you should stop hinting. “The waterpot doesn’t break all the time”.

Jani Uncle remained silent and didn’t respond. His child, too, was astonished. They had never witnessed their father in such a state of sorrow before. The silence lingered for a long time. His wife finally asked in a soft voice,

“Is everything okay? Why are you so sad?”

“Yes, everything is fine. But I saw something strange today that, God knows, I may never forget for the rest of my life.”

Everyone was staring at him, and his wife asked him worriedly,

“What was it?”

“Wife! I had seen the airstrikes of Russia. Today, when I saw the airstrikes from modern airplanes, I thought they had utterly transformed the face of White Mountain. I can hardly comprehend how I managed to reach a large rock”.

Heavy bombing began on all the peaks and valleys of White Mountain. After three hours, the airplanes started bombing the other side of the mountain. I looked down, but the valleys were invisible, covered entirely in dust and smoke. For a moment, I thought of escaping through the valley once the dust settled. Then, I saw a doe emerge from the dust. She would fall after taking a few steps, then glance at the sky, perhaps checking if the planes were still there. She would stand up, walk a little, and fall again. She repeated this many times. I was amazed that how much knowledge God had given her in such situations.

I raised my gun, intending to shoot her, but as I reflected on the violence of the day and her evident suffering, I wondered how much fear she must have felt. Despite knowing I had spotted her, she continued to move toward me. I was stunned. When she was about forty steps away, she paused. I stepped away from the large rock, scanned my surroundings cautiously, but the doe was no longer in sight. As I made my way toward the valley, I heard a stone falling sound. I froze, quickly glancing to my right. There, in a higher spot, I noticed a narrow cave. The doe was slowly making her way toward its entrance, crawling on her chest.

I quickly hid behind the large rock again. The doe fell several times as she tried to climb. The path leading to the cave was made of soft sand. She was utterly exhausted, her tongue hanging out in weariness, and her breath came in labored gasps. Yet, despite her fatigue, she refused to give up.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I was determined to slip behind the large rock and catch her the next time she lifted a leg, ensuring she wouldn’t tumble into the valley below. Rising to my feet, I made my way toward her carefully. The path between us was winding, so it took a few moments to reach the spot. When I finally arrived, I saw something that I will remember for the rest of my life.

The doe had reached the mouth of the cave, where her fawn anxiously circled her. Several times, the young one licked its mother’s face, desperately trying to reach her nipples, but her body lay flat, and her nipples were positioned in such a way that the fawn couldn’t latch on. The doe was dead, yet milk still dripped from her nipples onto the sand!!!

If You Aren’t a Saint, You Aren’t Less Than Him