Hakim Aka: The Weeping Pen
Translated from Pashto, by the Author Assadullah Sharifi.
Hello! Hakim Aka! How are you?
Hakim Aka: Ahhhh! Idiot! You sacred me! “Hakim Aka! Hakim Aka!” What’s the matter with you? What do you want? Just like my shadow, you always follow me! Don’t you have anything else to do?
Villager: You are very dear to me, that’s why I always seek you out. What were you doing?
Hakim Aka: I wasn’t doing anything? What do you think I was doing?
Villager: You have a pen and paper with you. Only God knows what you were writing. Just like a lover, you always seek secluded places where you can write your heart’s secrets.
Hakim Aka, just tell me. Who is she? Whose daughter is she? And then, leave it with me. No matter what, I will ask her hand for you. I will definitely fulfil this wish of yours.
Hakim Aka: What a strange and strong-headed people you are! You accuse people of absolutely nothing. I am not in love! Not in love! Not in love! How many times must I tell you?!
Villager: Then, what were you writing?
Hakim Aka: I wasn’t writing anything. I was only drying my pen’s tears with paper.
Villager: HAHAHAHA! So, your pen is like an infant that cries? Hakim Aka, I like you a lot! Your words are simple, but sweet. Why is your pen weeping? I cannot hear its sobs.
Hakim Aka: You are deaf. A deaf man cannot hear a sound.
Villager: Hakim Aka, please don’t joke with me. I am not deaf. It is your pen that’s not weeping.
Hakim Aka: My pen is weeping very loudly. But you cannot hear it. No one hears it. In our village, the pen is in the process of dying. Our youth are occupied with electronic devices. Our schools have turned into playgrounds. Do you see a book in anyone’s hand? Do you read a book? Do your friends read books? Does anyone in your family read a book? Do you see a pen in anyone’s hand or pocket? Does any villager read or writes? All day, our youth either play games or watch Turkish, Indian or other TV shows. Our elders are steeped in Facebook politics. Whenever you open your inner eyes, you will definitely realize that the pen is weeping. Once the pen dies, the death of books will naturally follow.
Villager: Ahhh! Hakim Aka! May God reward you with goodness. What a beautiful truth you showed me. Truly, like a silk worm, I am always lost in the virtual world of social media. Thus, I have totally forgotten the existence of the book. Please, tell your pen to cry no more. I will also tell my friends to read and write instead of browsing Facebook or watching TV shows. Goodbye for now!
Hakim Aka means: Uncle Hakim. Hakim (wise man) and Aka (uncle).
Footnote: This article has been translated from Pashto into English by the Author, Assadullah Sharifi.