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Mar 09, 2010
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KURT vs. TURK.
Kurt and Turk
Date = Fifteen thousand years BC. Place = Somewhere in central Asia.
Brushing aside the worn out heavy skin curtain hanging at the opening of his khem Buzorg stepped outside. Sharp cold air caressed his powerful body. He felt strong, invincible and could sense newness in the atmosphere. He took a deep breath and looked at the sky. It was still dark but night was slowly fading away. He heard the shrill short shriek of the great golden eagle and looked up surprised. He had never seen a great golden up and flying so early. He tried to locate it in the darkness, and saw it circling high above. The eagle seemed to sense his interest; it stopped and hovered in midair for a prolonged moment, then shrieked again and dived directly towards him through the dark sky. Buzorg thought for an instant that the eagle was attacking him. But he just stood there amazed and spell bound. The eagle flew down directly at him, it came at him through dark morning flying low and straight, and came so near that Buzorg could see the shine of its wild, proud eyes. He felt blood rush through his body with excitement; he had never experienced this kind of action in his life. The eagle stopped in mid air and seemed to stare at him, their eyes met and the eagle shrieked again, turned sharply and flew back above in the sky.
Though Buzorg was always an early riser, today he was up and out much earlier. Last night he could not sleep soundly as one of his women was going through the birthing pain, she had been continuously moaning and disturbing him. It has been such a long time since a child was born in the ghol and Buzorg was looking forward to the new arrival, more so as he, himself had fathered the child. He rubbed his large rough hands together and moved towards the centre of the ghol.
The two camp dogs came running towards him full of glee. They were fierce and powerful; they rubbed their taut muscular bodies against his legs. Buzorg bent down and patted them. He was proud of his own decision of keeping and raising them while most of his people wanted them to be killed. Many moons back a pack of wild dogs had attacked and killed one of his daughters, his favorite, when she wandered alone in the jungle. Buzorg and his two young sons had hunted down each and every dog until only these two puppies were left. Instead of killing away the puppies both his sons had insisted on keeping and raising them. It was one of the rare occasions when his ever warring sons agreed upon something, that too happily. Now these dogs were a great help around the camp and hunt.
He walked past the loose tent like dwellings made of sticks, pieces of animal skin and dried leaves. He lingered a little near the shack where the women had given birth during the night. He had heard the cry of the new born late in the night and felt in his bones that it was a boy. He moved towards the clearing at the edge of the camp and stood on his usual place, a natural raised platform, from where he can keep eye on the surrounding jungle and his ghol.
The camp was coming to life. The central camp fire in the middle of the camp was burning and one of the older women whose duty was to take care of the fire was tending it. A large pot, one of the ghol’s prized possessions was on the fire and Buzorg knew that the fresh meat from latest hunt will be boiling in it. He looked at the glowing embers satisfyingly and was proud of the fact that only his ghol had this arrangement of boiling meat in a pot full of steaming water. This meat not only tasted better than the fire burned roasted meat, it was easy on his stomach too.
He could see his people coming out of their khems one by one and moving around. Almost all of them were elderly, grownups or young. The stark fact was that there were no children to be seen. It has been a long time since a new member was born in the ghol. Even the youngest; a female, was old enough to become a mother herself in a few new moons. Buzorg longed to see children around, especially male child. Why so many of the male children die, what can be done to save them, he often used to worry about it. And then there were very few grown up men than women in the ghol. So many able bodied men had died lately due to one or other reason, and a few young men has to be thrown out of the ghol as they had become too rebellious, threatening to undermine his carefully built authority. He thought of his two grownup sons and a strange feeling of love, pride and sadness ran through his veins. They too have to be dealt with, he thought grimly.
They were his sons, his flesh and blood but born of different mothers. Both these women never liked each other. There always has been a fierce rivalry between the two and in time it has filtered down to the boys too, making them extremely jealous of each other. And as they neared their manhood their earlier healthy competition has taken a serious turn and was turning into enmity. Even the other members of the ghol have been caught in their war and were taking sides. Buzorg, who could not tolerate even a remote possibility of divide in the ghol, was very much worried. But he was confused about the line of action he should take. But today everything seemed to have changed, a child has been born in the ghol, that too his own child. Though he had sired many children from many women, he had fathered only two sons. And now another son will allow him to take the decision which he has been long pondering about.
He looked up; saw the dim sun lazily trying to break through the clouds, its week rays unable to penetrate the cold heavy air. The great golden eagle was still circling above very slowly; it did not seem to be in a hunting mood. He saw one of his sons, the one with the brownish hair returning from the jungle carrying the carcass of the hunt on his shoulder. A very strong lad, he could carry a full grown deer to long distance. He was so light and swift on his feet that he seemed to fly, his feet hardly touching the ground while walking, even with extra weight. This son of him preferred to hunt alone and that too very early in the morning when it is still dark. The other son usually hunted in the day along with a couple of men from the ghol, mostly large animals. Because of their hunting skill the ghol never went short of meat. And Buzorg had the luxury to concentrate on other important matters. This was a very good place to settle down permanently. It can accommodate and sustain a large number of people. A river flowed nearby and the jungle around was full of all kinds of animals who often come to river for drink. His people had carefully marked the paths animals usually take. The hunt was mostly easy and rewarding. And there was a constant supply of fruits and other eatables from the jungle too. As an unquestioned ruler of his people Buzorg had total control. He knew that no other ghol functioned as smoothly as this one. No ghol can construct this kind of tents. One of his women, whom he had captured long back can cure and dry the animal skin in such a way that they never smelled or rot. His khems were always warm and protected them from weather.
His mind wandered back to the new born and his mother. He remembered how he had found the sick and wounded girl alone in the mountains hiding in a cave on one of his usual trip. Habitually, he often used to wander off in search of new ghols and new lands for future shifting. He had carried the girl on his shoulder for many days on the return trip. The senior women in the ghol took her in and nursed her back to health. She had strong arms and fast legs. Buzorg was sure she can produce good sons. Though, lately he had become bored of all his women and had stopped entry of them in his khem, and was used to sleeping alone. But the attraction of a chance to sire one more son made him break his own rule and he ordered the girl to share his bed.
His eyes roved towards the tent where the women had given birth. This khem was smaller and rundown than the other shacks, indicating the low social standing of the young woman in the ghol. But now that was about to change. Many women were moving in and out of the khem continuously, indicating the importance of the new born to the ghol and lot of activity was taking place around it. He saw two smaller groups at the opposite ends of the camp. He knew that these were his senior wives, mothers of his two sons and their respective supporters. Both the women had erected their khems as far from other as possible. Standing tall and towering were his sons besides their mothers. Even from far he could see the striking similarity between the two. Whenever he saw his own reflection in the flowing water of the river, he would wonder which one of his sons resembled him more. The only clear physical difference was one had jet black hair and other one slight brownish, evidently inherited from their mothers. But the real difference was in their thinking, attitude and their bitter hostility towards each other. It had been quite some time since both of them had gone on hunt or any where together. Earlier Buzorg tried to force them together and then he realized that they may end up hurting or killing each other. And he dint wanted to lose any one of them.
Now majority of the people were out, mostly silent they seem to be waiting, expecting something. They were all serious and tense, at the same time they all seem to know that Buzorg has got what he wanted, and some important changes were about to take place in the ghol. The senior most women of the ghol came out of the khem and seemed to look directly at Buzorg as though seeking permission, a command or some sign, Buzorg dint moved, just stood there like a solid rock. This woman was the first one to be captured by Buzorg when he moved out of his father’s ghol while he was still very young, even younger than his two sons at present. The woman was much older than him and experienced, and she belonged to some unknown ghol. Initially she resisted him but after a while she accepted him and slowly she became an integral part of every venture. She never could bear a child but without her active support Buzorg would not have been able to establish the ghol to this extent. Slowly and gradually Buzorg brought in more women and stray men from everywhere and the ghol grew to the present state. His strength and hunting skill and the woman’s management in the ghol helped them to become an independent and self sufficient community. Buzorg trusted her and depended upon her advice in day to day matters of the ghol. Her judgment of his whims and mood was uncanny to say the least. She stood there patiently trying to assess the next move.
Gradually everyone started moving towards the open area, but stopping at a safe distance from Buzorg. They were all in awe of him. His fierce persona was too intimidating for anyone to take him lightly. He had been ruthless with anyone who dared to disobey him even forgetfully. The unfortunate one was given only a single choice, run or die. Life out in the jungle away from the protection of the ghol for a lone person was too harsh and it was impossible to survive. And on the other hand no one ever went hungry or cold in the ghol as there was always enough food for everyone.
One by one every one assembled in the opening. Only his sons and their mothers were standing near their khems. Even from far Buzorg could clearly recognize the dignified and confident presence of both the women. He remembered how he had chosen, stalked and abducted them from different ghols after killing some of their men folk and brought them to his own ghol to sire more children. It had taken him a lot of time and tact to subdue and seduce them. Once they accepted him they became very much involved in the ghol’s activities. To top it all they had gifted him with sons. Till then he had only daughters, and longed for sons. When the boys were born just a few days apart, pride and happiness overtook him, and since then he lost some of his cruel ways and became more tolerant. And in that happy and generous mood he decided to do something which no one had ever done earlier, to bestow individual names on the women.
In the whole ghol only he was called by a name ‘Buzorg’. Earlier his father was the leader and was called Buzorg by everyone. And when he moved out of his father’s shadow and started his own ghol he was called Buzorg by all. No other person ever had a name and none ever thought it necessary. When the idea of naming the mothers first came to his mind he blew up with excitement. He had to think long and hard to come up with proper sounding names.
Then in an open assembly in front of everyone he had named the black haired woman ‘Begu’ and the brown haired one ‘Benu’. He ordered that from now on these women shall be called by their respective names. He prided himself on the choice of these names. Begu and Benu thus acquired special status in the ghol. And as their sons grew up and started contributing in the ghol’s male activities their prestige grew more. But their mutual rivalry too grew, resulting in more animosity between the boys. Buzorg watched with dismay. He wanted his sons to contribute in the growth of the ghol together. He dreamt of his ghol growing huge, with many men, women and children, spread on a large area and unlimited khems. But the realities struck him as his plans to create some kind of working partnership between the boys failed. He realized that it is impossible to keep them together. So, he gave them separate tasks and responsibilities with the idea of keeping them away from each other as much as possible. He loved them in his own way and derided even the thought of losing any one of them. Most of all he wanted to name them. He had been constantly working and practicing with sounds and words which according to him can reflect their opposite personalities and still connect and relate them together.
The sun was slowly climbing up, but the air was still very cold. The great golden eagle silently circled on over head. Every single member was out in the opening. Even the very young and the unwell were there, hugging themselves in their loose animal skin coverings. The early morning presence of Buzorg at this particular place was a sign that all must assemble and no one can dare to do anything else. The small crowd stood in a wide loose arc in front of Buzorg. Only his sons, their mothers and the older woman can be seen still in the camp. The older woman went inside the birthing khem and after a little while came out with the young mother who was carrying the new born wrapped in a thick layer of furry skins. As they moved ahead, Benu and Begu along with their sons too followed, but maintaining as much distance as possible from each other. As the older women and the infant carrying mother neared the thin crowd, it split and allowed them a clear passage. They walked ahead and came near Buzorg. Begu and Benu too moved ahead but took their places at the opposite ends of the arc.
Buzorg folded his long, strong arms over his huge chest and looked directly at the young woman who had given him the son. Confused and scared she lowered her eyes and tried to hide behind the bundle in her own arms. Then Buzorg turned his gaze on the older women. Though she new and understood him better than anyone else, but face to face she always used to turn awkward and fiddly. She pulled herself up and slowly took the baby from the mother’s hands and removed the covering garments. Then she carried the naked baby towards Buzorg, bowed slowly, and gently laid the baby on the ground near his feet. As the cold hard earth touched the bare pink body, the baby hollered loudly, the cry was surprisingly loud and clear for an infant so young. Buzorg bent down and picked up the crying infant deftly, and raised him to his chest. His large hands practically covered the child’s whole body. He hugged the child to his own hairy chest for a few moments, the child went silent abruptly. Then he raised him over and above his head with both hands towards the slowly climbing sun. He shouted loudly and cried out some words, hardly intelligible to anyone in the ghol. The great golden eagle which was silently flying high above, shrieked piercingly and dropped like a stone towards Buzorg as though to snatch the naked child from his father’s hands. There was huge gasp from the crowd. Buzorg stayed unmoved, but kept on looking intently at the eagle. Again at the last moment the eagle stopped, shrieked, turned, made a wide circle, flew up and vanished in the sky. The crowd stood there stunned by the incredible scene. Buzorg lowered his arms, had a deep look at the child’s face and whispered something in his ears. Then he walked towards the mother and handed over the baby to her inviting arms. It was apparent to everyone that Buzorg has declared the new born as his heir.
Buzorg moved back to his original place, and signaled both his sons to step forward. Slowly and steadily both walked towards him and stopped at arm’s length. Their eyes were level and full of raw confidence. Like most men their eyes dint waver even a bit while meeting Buzorg’s gaze. Buzorg knew that his sons have the courage to stare down a bear before killing it. He had a good full look at them; their physical alikeness and steely manliness never cease to amaze him. ‘They are still growing’, he thought.
He remembered the time when he was just shoulder high, and was made to stand in front of his father, the then Buzorg of the ghol. He was scared as he had done something terribly out of line and was expecting some harsh punishment. His father ordered him to stay alone in the mountains till the next full moon. He was not allowed to have any kind of contact with the ghol during this period. All the members were forbidden to have any kind of inter-action with him. Initially for a couple of days he stayed near eyesight of his ghol, unable to move away. Then slowly his confidence grew and he ventured out and the jungle started to unravel its secrets to him. It dawned upon him that he was more at home in the jungle on his own than with the ghol obeying his father’s unpredictable and seemingly foolish commands. He travelled to far off places, foraged, and hunted single handedly, and over all enjoyed his independence. He found other ghols of unknown people, stalked and attacked their hunting parties. After three full moons he returned to his ghol with two captured women and presented them to his father as gift.
But in a few days he sensed that something drastically has changed. The other male members of the ghol started acting differently with him and even his father was not the same. They all seemed uneasy and uncomfortable in his presence. Sensing danger and unwanted, one day he picked up his favorite tools and self made hunting equipment and left the ghol for good, never to see them again. He walked deep in the jungle, crossed rivers and mountains till he found his first woman, and that started the formation of his own ghol. He looked fondly at the older woman who was standing right in front of him, watching him covertly but intently. Buzorg knew after so many moons with him, she was adept at reading his thoughts.
His eyes went back to his sons, they were already men and good hunters and most of all they will not be alone. Their mothers and a few of their followers will be with them. He had trained them well, he was sure that not only they will survive they will grow and establish their own ghols. He extended his arms towards them, his sons were taken aback. It has been a long time since he had physically touched them. It was not easy for Buzorg to show or display his emotions. But now he wanted to touch them and feel them for one last time, before announcing his decision. Slowly they step forward. Buzorg gently grabbed their shoulders with his hands. He could feel immense muscular energy filtering thorough his palms into his own body. He stood there speechless and still for a long moment, cherishing this moment of closeness with his sons.
He looked deep into the eyes of his son on his right and blurted ,’ Kurt, I give you this name, you shall be called “Kurt”, take your mother and anyone who want to come with you and go on this direction and never turn back.’ he waved with his right hand.
Then he turned to other son, rolled the word ‘Kurt’ upside down, left and right, low and high in his mouth and said,’ Turk’ you are Turk, you shall always be called by this name, take your mother and whoever you want and go to this direction,’ he waved with his left hand on the opposite direction ‘and never turn back’. He dropped his hands and with heavy steps walked back towards his khem.
End.
By: - **************
Milton Roy “Rahbar”
Buzorg = Name, Title, Leader.
Ghol = Group, Community. Camp.
Khem = Shack, Tent.
Moons = months, primitive calculation of time.
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