Dilshad

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The ogre devoured the sheikh and his son, and I snapped out of my laughter. Time had changed, and I was no longer the Dilshad I once was. My memory drifted back to that day, and I saw an Indian soldier in shorts standing before me. He ordered me to stop and asked who I was. I told him, "My name is Dilshad, and I'm from Muscat. The ogre swallowed my sheikh and his son." But he didn't understand me, even though I spoke in Urdu, which I had learned in the Muscat market. He led me to the police station, where I was violently kicked and punched. I wanted to scream at the boots and hats, but my laughter preceded my scream, and they became even more agitated, their blows intensifying. Then, suddenly, they stopped and threw me back into the street, without anyone asking me anything or even pointing a finger of accusation at me. It was as if all they wanted from me was to practice kicking and slapping.