Sewage

An introduction to Aram’s short story

I translated the following short story, by Aram Kaka Flah, from Kurdish to English some time ago. This symbolic piece of writing was first published in Southern Kurdistan during the era of Anfal and the chemical attacks on the Kurds between 1987-1988.  In my view Aram expressed his thoughts figuratively, but honestly, indicating his pain and inability to do much about it.  He hopelessly tried to commit suicide rather than either give in or fight back.  Why was this?  We have to ask him about that period or ask ourselves about the last attack at Halabja when desperate Kurds were trapped between political impotence and historical circumstances.

When I translated this work, I felt the beauty of Aram’s suicide attempt compared to defeat.  In my view Aram expresses the aching emotions of his time. I may confusingly make the wrong connection between Aram’s depressed state and his attempt to poison himself with the chemical attacks on the Kurdish people.  However, I do hope to be able to give the English reader an individual perspective of both Aram’s style of writing during 1987-1988 along with his depiction of a hopeless era in Kurdish history.

It is important to note that I have not been able to contact Aram and so have not gained permission either for translating or expressing my thoughts as I do.   However, I hope I am able to give an impression to the English reader of how Aram’s writing is experienced by a fellow Kurd.

Sabah Yassin

Sewage

Written By Aram Kakay Falah

This is my third times thinking of committing suicide. My thoughts are shattered, entangled up, and wrap like in disorderly relation to each other. I would like to think or I get imaginations for the first time to close down the door and window of my breathing and shutting my eyes.  I would like bring this life to an end.  It is better to bring down the wall of alienation, and lie down in a deep dark grave, then dispel pain and relax.  O, oh, how mach! I was being coward, those two other times, allow myself breathing. I don’t know, how came I didn’t free myself from this loneliness, what is that mystical force making me cling to life? What insane and dark wind has brought my vessel to aimless shore of life?

But now isn’t like then, now I am convinced, that I want to die. I will lie back in everlasting death, never to alive again. Which it mean, I will break off my connection with outside world, and I will not hear the peaceful sound of the rain fall.

A while ago, I was engulfed by a strange circumstance. I don’t remember the day. A month ago or a year was? Two weeks short of a year?  I don’t remember.  I heard the peaceful sound of rainfall. I was alone in this room; it felt as if someone was calling out to me.  Happily, I ran toward a window. I couldn’t see anybody. The sky was clear; there was no rain, not even a transparent cloud in the sky. I shut the window, and put my hand inside my pocket.

I felt the blue jacket on me, it was totally wet. I went back in front the mirror to see my reflection.  Instead, I saw the image of Cheman laughing at me. She was running here and there, her short hairs were wet like two wings of one bird bouncing on each side of her shoulder.  When I reached out to touch it, I felt the mirror completely to be wet. A drizzle was falling on it.

I know Cheman came her many times throw the key hole. The key hole is her place, she sleep inside it, but she never lies beside me.  Even, when I leave my bed for her, she goes straight into the mirror. That day, I angrily threw a book at the mirror and cut it two pieces. Now the images are split in two and the rain has a double resonance.

O, oh, the loneliness is enjoyable and meaningless. I think that was the reason that I became addicted to this mirror, but what else, otherwise I can do?  It has been over a year, I didn’t completed university, deserted from military and been in this room.  How long have I being alone, without friend? When I went in front of the mirror, I felt that I am not alone anymore.

My world consist only the mirror and the window overlooking the courtyard, which always has an orphaned appearance.  Through this window, I can see a nut tree.  Its leaves shinning like a hair, I can see difference kinds of birds playing enthusiastically with leaves and make me happy. With their beaks, they peck at the leaves.  The pecking created a silent vibration.  The sound of it, look like a playful break up the jellyfish.  Then, they are land down to the foot of the tree playfully pushed and brushed leaves through the dirt. 

That was the only world I perceived, in and out.  Beside the black rats, they are leaving inside the yard’s sewer. They became my visitors and when they came, they chip the hard bread and eat it, and then they go back to their families. My sister usually brings loaves once every two to three weeks.

Those two times I failed to kill me, I poured the venom into a drain.  From then on, I didn’t see the rats around. They don’t come to my room anymore.  They left me too.  I felt very bad about what happened. They were my pleasure, when they came and ate the stale breads.  The sound of chipping amuses me.  I felt like rain silently.  For long time, I felt annoyed.  For a while, I would go to the mouth of the drain to listen to their breathing and complaints which sound like drops of the rain.  I sensed they were afraid of me, they thought I would dump poison into sewer.  However, they don’t know that this time I will drink the mug of venom at once, and I will pure the venom into my inner sewage.  Then, I will pass away. What a strange thinking! How beautiful and tasteful are end will be! Is it possible to die?  This time it is not a dream. I have to be strong minded with myself. It is enough to be softness and gentleness, no more stupidly or naivety.

Usually, I want to think and leave like a human, but I never being able to do so.  I don’t know why? It may have grown up with this feeling, because I had no father. He left me early, I don’t know why, but occasionally his feature appears as if in a dream. Anyhow, I rid my imagination of his image much earlier than I can remember, perhaps because he used hit me a lot as a child.  I don’t even remember much of my childhood.  I could never play hide and seek, because I always thought he would came and drag me by the ear. Even, when I wanted to approach him, he warned me with fierce glance not to dare.  I remember many times, he gripped my hand and force me to follow him to work.  I didn’t know what he uses to do. But still one memory flicker bitterly as a far star in space, and that was an episode.  One summer, he came home tired, and drags me inside by the ear hit me until my tongue drooped like his tie.  When he died, I was very happy, I thought the math teacher was dead. My happiness didn’t last long and soon understand what it felt like to be an orphan.  This become more obvious when there was no one to give me money in the morning. I cried a lot. Now I felt some of those tears were still in my eyes. Whenever, I remember that occasion, I am lost in thought.

What is it?  Where am I heading?  I am strange person.  Why am I scanning dusty page of my past?  Now I am grown.  I just want to live like human being with dream, desire and wish hand in hand.  But it’s hard, and it becomes harder after my mother’s death.  I now see how I am unable to own even my dreams, because, they are full of policemen. They may come for me in any moment.  I have totally lost any sense of security. Often, I run like a crazed man- through dark allay just to be free from my thought with hope of getting arrested.  For my bad lack, nobody bothered why I run.   Consequently, I return to my room, go in front of the mirror, and cry.  I see my tear divide into two pieces, my mother on one side and Cheman on the other.

It’s very clear that my mother death lead to more isolation.  Two weeks after deserting the army. I looked at the tree from the window and noticed the silent rain, and the soft voice of mother calling me.  Initial, I didn’t recognise her voice. I thought it was just the rain falling down on the leaves, and birds singing. .  I don’t know how I went through the wall and find my self besides her standing. It happened in the blink of an eye. My mother was crying and calling me.  I went forward. I stood behind her. Her body was a depressing image of her, lay down on the floor, in front of her, I knelled down and gazed.

-Dear Shera, I will die soon, I love you, be careful and lookout after yourself.

I cried a lot, my tears came down, just like the rain outside. Her heavy breathing came to my ear like a silent rain, she closed her eyes, and I did know what she was thinking? What was she thinking? I was conscious that she would die.  At that moment I got a mystical picture. Let’s just say I put my dry lips to the falling rain from the gutter.  Suddenly, I laid; I think I slept beside her. I wake up in the morning, and she was dead.

Often, when I go in front of the mirror, I see her, and I don’t like to look at her standing up right. I lay down in front the mirror and hug myself tightly, this position remind her to pick me as a new born baby.  I see, she light up when she seen me in this position, and she became alive. Yes, she is not dead. Still she gives birth, in my room.  Still, she put me to sleep just like before, she takes care of me.  She pays me money just the way it was at university.  When I was university student, she never allows me go school with empty pocket.  When I said to her, I would work and not study. She looked at me with a bitter _expression and angrily said.

-What are you talking about? Would you like to kill me with your remark?

Who says that I didn’t kill her? But no, when I had been thrown out of university, I conclude, I wouldn’t do military service, because I didn’t believe in it, I used to tell my mother, what is war for? Beside that I used to say: this corruption war, I don’t want to get involved and there is just one real war, and that is a struggle of gaining knowledge about life.  She didn’t understand what I was talking about, but she liked what I expressed.  It wasn’t my fault abandoned university.  I never wanted my future to be the way it’s now.  What could I do, my brain could not digest the subject matter. Everyday, authority accuse us of something, they turned university life to hill.  I hadn’t like remembered those days.  Even now, I regard remembering it.  I have to rid my mind of those memories.  No, hold on a second, I have to think about it, I have to remember every terrible day of my life, I have to look into past and allow it became alive.  It may help me with my suicide attempt. Otherwise it wouldn’t be easy to put end to myself.  I have to turn to some wicked memory which show that life not wrath living and those twisted ideas of past, could be the best source of successful suicide.

At this very moment, I can see it as clearly as if it happened yesterday. The image replays over and over again.  I went to demonstration without any one asks me to. I climbed on some once shoulder to read the poems.  I read many poems of different poets. I kept reading, until I brought each of those poets back to life. The public kept asking me to repeat it.  When the police attacked the demonstrators fled each its way. The one whom hold me on his shoulder dropped me down without warring.  I passed out when I landed down on the ground. The Polices started biting me from every corn, when their feet’s could reach. They hit me many times over the head; beat my head, smashing my mouth and nose until my tongue drooped. I was also aware of everything’s going on around.  Then they tied me with a black and white rope. 

All the time, I was scared like Alexander Grate’s horse of my shadow.  I need someone, to tame me stand up, to run towards sun.  But how is it? This fragile body and this exhausted mind had no place for more.  It was alone the entire time, tired and depressed.  Despite this, nobody stepping forward to help and no one acknowledged it.

Yes I do remember, I was along all the time and I did approach any one. I usually stood at corn of university wearing one shirt under rain shaking of cold.  In evenings, I would return to my dormitory on empty stomach, turn the light of, draw the curtains, and get into bed.  I Laid down and smocked my cigarette in the darkness.  I would chew on my lips.  I still don’t know how Cheman appeared in my life? How did that happen?  I merely remember when she surfaced in my life; she put her hand in my life and disturbed the smooth lake of my loneliness. She opens way for creep feeling like the ants climbing my body. She didn’t let me stay as lonely   bird.  That was last year, my second year in the college. One day, she asked me to duplicate a key for her.  I don’t know, what happened but I forget to do it for her the whole week.  She reminds me again.  But why did she ask me to do that for her?   I remember, if I was good for anything’s, I wasn’t good either for talking to or be a friend. Anyhow, when I delivered her keys, she thanked me a lot.  Then, she asked me why I was standing by myself and why I was so sad?  Another time she came to me and said

-         The teacher will not be here next lesson, let’s go for a walk, and then drink a cup of tea.

I don’t know, what made me to be an object of her attention!! She was from a rich family. Everyday, she was difference close.  Maybe my silent and detachment air attracted her, and she made her move, or maybe she felt pity on me!  That day, she brought me the blue jacket, which I refused to accept and angrily asked her if she thought I was a beggar.  She replied calmly that she loved me.

What did she say! What were the words uttered by the Goddess!! Those words alone caused me to tremble and shocked me to the core waking up a strong desire in me.  She set me free from the routine of my humdrum existence, sending me from earth to heaven.  No, no, I mean, she dragged me down from heavenly ideal and made me to open my eyes among human being.  Whenever, I was by myself, I would ask myself exactly, which moments I started really loving her? I could never get an answer. Was it at the time, she made me talk?  Was it the moment I brought her a keys back? During that week, she showed up in my dream like a miner angel or was those hours when she enticed me to talk?  Perhaps it was when she consoled me or when she presented me with the blue jacket.  No, no, it’s now, yes just now.  You see she came to see me every night. Sorry, I have a huge headache right know, I am dizzy and tired.  I cannot arrive at any conclusion; I can not get an answer for my questions. Yes I found an answer.  It was that day she told me: Dear Shera we have one pocket, don’t be shy.  I see that you haven’t being able to travel home for the last three months, pleas go visit your mother.  I don’t know, but in that moment I either fell in loved she or I hated her.  During that period, I was summing in dark confusing lake. Am I living or I drowning? Now, I feel that I love her more than any time of my life.  Even though she left me and turns me into a vault in a lonely grave.  From that day on, this world put along black jacket on. And my weak hope flickering just as transparent slow dissolve into air and vanish for ever. If I she was here, I wouldn’t think of suicide, but now, how can I not?  It was that sad evening, during a light drizzle, she told me: Mr  sherko an architect who had completed his military service, had visited my father and asked for my hand.  I want to know what you say about it. Would you like I invite you to my marriage ceremony?

How strange! What is this happy itchy feeling, which excitement me right now? What happened?  Yes, I got an answer.  The answer is that she didn’t love me.  That was the reason I wasn’t in love with her either. She had enough pity on me to stop herself laughing.  In fact, I pitied her a little.  Deep down, I made fun at the way she lived.  Be rich and not wary how make living. What wonderful feeling to be able to have a clear picture in the end!  If I wouldn’t reach a conclusion, able to arrive at conclusion, I wouldn’t be able to an end to my life.  However, I have the most stupid brain, as I think now, I see that I love her more than ever and I need her badly now.  As far I remember she was wonderful toward me all the time. You see she still visit me every night.  Look! She got out of the key hole. O what happen, she disappeared? Maybe she went back to sleep.  Let me go and wake her up. She came again. She hung up the blue jacket. I see why she disappeared. I hope she wouldn’t enter the mirror. Its cold, let me put my jacket on, why is it so wet? Maybe it rain again, but when it will stop? When is this wet drama going to collapse?  Why those actors are move with a slow motion?

Oh, rain fall heavily! Oh heavens pure down everything’s at once!  If sky doesn’t listen to me, I will ask every clouds move against you and I will ask thunder bolt eyes of * Jeman act and blow you up.  Please, Cheman find out, why has the heaven sewage being shut it off? Ask why it not drain down.  Cheman, where are you? Are you disappearing again?  Cheman!! Cheman!

Yes, she is back with the flowers, usually flowers mean she brought back love, and she will put it to my jacket. But wait a mint, let me see, but why she carry foot? She carries hard bread!  Then I mast be misunderstood, it must be my sister.  No, it is her, you see, you getting crazy. My sister went to mountain over a month with her husband. Then that must be my loved Cheman

Dear love! Cheman, please don’t put the bread on the floor, because the rats will eat it.  You see they ate all of it. Don’t eat my bread, you bloody rattan creatures.  I am sorry, I regret what I said. I didn’t mean saying blaspheme.  I know I shouldn’t have said that, I know, I broke the role but please accept my apology and go a head eat as much as you can. Cheman, please bring more bread and when you came back next time bring a jacket for each of them. Please, intoxicating eyes, take good care of us, and don’t let cold weather freeze us to death.  We are frightening rats.  I am afraid we will freeze to death. Please, don’t leave me alone, I wouldn’t pour the cup of venom over you, I would not pour it in the sewage and I would not cast it over your faces.  Come close to me, come under my blanket. Don’t be afraid I am not a cat. My friend comes to me. The world is a cold place, be careful! It is raining quietly.

Aram Kakay Fallah Wrote this short story when Iraq and Iran war were at Is.’s climax of distraction of life in the Meddle East during 1987.  This dirty war were the outcome of dirty ambitions of the modern and old Elates play out on the screen of two states not two people or two countries.  While both rivals clam to solving a problem outcome down the aggression.  But in fact, over 40 countries took part in the war by selling weapon to both counties, at one time 28 of those countries, let us stated the fact, 28 factories in the WEST HEMSFER sold weapon simultaneously to both of the hateful wares. As a fact Kurdish people has curved up between fore states in Middle after 1WW.  During 1980-1988 the Kurdish people confronting open genocide by Iraq state and time made hard on the young Writer Aram to be able to express his feeling or thinking openly as you can see his resentment language take an emotional form of symbolic romantic. This is possible an outcome of desperation and powerlessness which can be understood in the contest of war and hope for change. Therefore the translator would like to remain the reader of the Nazi atrocity during the 2WW. Because were a lot of similarity between the way victim (KURD/JEWISH) had been victimise by historic agent as will the executioner of the present.

OBS:

If you like a copy of it in Kurdish email me