From the author: This is an english translation of an Urdu afsaana (short story) I originally wrote under the title ChootioN ki Qataar, published by Irtaqa in Karachi, and the english translation is also on the June issue of Sangat Review (http://sangat.org/review). Although the translation has been done by myself, but I think that the original Urdu story is much more powerfull in its effect.

( 1 )

There is crack in the wall a little below the window. These ants come
out of there, travel down to the bottom, and disappear into another
small hole.

I am about 5 feet 8 inches tall, when I raise my arm I can reach up
to 7 feet approximately. But that crack is another foot above my
reach, say about 6 inches below the small window at the top. I have
calculated that these ants must travel a distance of approximately 8
feet in their journey on this wall.

I do not have anything to measure time with, therefore I can not
measure the average speed of these ants. I guess that it must take them ten minutes to come down. But then I think that it may
only take five. Ten or five, what difference does it make? What importance does
time have anyway?

If time had been something like a chord, I would have laid it out
straight on the floor, and would have folded it over and over many
times to divide it into a number of segments. And I would have kept
the segments that I liked and thrown away the rest. But here, in order
to measure time, you need an instrument that moves with a constant
speed. I have no such instrument.

Sometimes, I let my arm hang loose and I swing it like the pendulum in
a grandfather's clock. In the hope that I may be able to measure time
this way. But then I tire pretty soon, and I let time flow freely
without the control of my swinging arm. ’’What if I am not free, at
least I let time run freely!''. I say.

At times I try to measure the speed of these ants with the help of my
arm's grandfather clock. But each time I have either lost track of the
ant I was focusing at, or I have forgotten the count. It has been only
twice that I successfully completed both these tasks at the same
time. Once an ant came down in 745 swings, and once it took 650 swings
of my arm for an ant to make it down to the bottom. Now, I can not say
if the speed of the ants is different at different times, or my arm
does not swing at a constant rate.

The ants come down from the top in a single file only. Not even one
has ever dared to stray out of it. They do not need any number of
guards, or any amount of the warden's threats to keep themselves in
one file. If one ant takes a particular path, then all the rest must
follow. I have discovered this after days of observation.

Now I am trying to figure out the number of ants that travel in the
column at any given time. But this is not an easy task. I think that
probably ten or twelve ants can fit in an inch. And based on this
figure I can only guess the number of ants that will fit in the whole
column.

The study of these ants is a really fascinating science. I have
discovered this only in the last few days or so. And in trying to
study them I have forgotten about all the horrors of this cell. And
if somehow the rest of my life could be spent here, it would be a
great blessing for me.

I am prisoner number 1212. I have been here in this prison for about
twelve years now. Three weeks ago I had a fight with Mad Harry, and I
stabbed him. So the warden sent me to this dark cell for 40 days. And
according to my count, today is my 23rd day here. If it had not been
for these ants, I would have long given up on my counting. They have
made all my senses extremely sensitive.

These ants never stop. Even in the dead of night I have put my hand on
the wall and felt them moving. And then I leave my hand there on the
wall, putting and unavoidable obstacle in their path. I then feel that
they go around my hand, some climb over it, and continue their journey
on the other side. This tells me that they can see in the dark. This
ability has really amazed me.

I have never seen such discipline and such dedication in
humans. Except probably in the army. But what discipline do they
have? Take away their guns, and see who follows orders?

The amount of wisdom that I have gained while being with these ants
probably far out-weighs all the knowledge that I gained in my prior
life. When I get out of here, I would definitely be a changed human
being. Others may accept it or not, but I know it for a fact.

In order to measure time you need an object that moves with a constant
speed. I learned this in the last few weeks. And in this cell there is
only one thing that moves with a constant speed. That are these
ants. If they stop, time will stop. Then everything in this cell would
come to a standstill. Except probably me. Then I will control time at
my will. When I move, time will flow. Otherwise it will stop.

These ants who come down from a crack near the small window at the
top move with a constant velocity. And all aspects of my life are
interlocked with this movement. It symbolizes life. When I wake up in
the morning, I say that twelve thousand ants passed over the wall last
night. Because I have set a measure that one thousand ants must pass
in one hour. When I think that one thousand ants must have passed I
say that an hour has passed. Or when I think that an hour has passed,
I say that one thousand ants must have come down the wall.

When twelve thousand ants have come down the wall, the door to my cell
opens and he leaves me food. Sometimes I think that it must be these
ants that make him do that. Some times I think that it must be these
ants who control all aspects of the outside world. And I am their only
worshiper in the whole Universe, and it is I who has been chosen to
convey this message to the rest of mankind.

Now that I think of it, it seems to me that I was born just for this
reason. Because, right from the beginning, my life always seemed
aimless to me. Sometimes I would get busy doing one thing, then I
would give it up and take up something else. Moving on in this fashion
once I found myself engaged in some freedom struggle. I have no idea
now what this ’’freedom'' was. I used to cry ’’freedom, freedom'' all the time and travel with the same group of people. Other than
freedom we used to use two more words.... I am forgetting them now.... yes...
rights.. and the other.... yes... democracy. I have no idea what all
those words used to mean. But in those days, I think, I knew pretty
well.

Then one day, when we were having tea in a cafe', some people wearing
plain clothes asked me to come with them. And that is how I came to
this prison.... exactly twelve years ago. And for what purpose? I
had no idea at that time.

It comes to me only now that all this was done by these ants. All that
talk about freedom, democracy etc.... because I could come to this
prison. And then they kept me here for twelve years... so that I get
ready for the momentous task ahead of me. For the last twelve years I
had a mysterious feeling that I was going to do something big. Now I
know what.

After being prepared for twelve years I was brought to this cell...
so that I could understand the real importance of time and explain to
the rest of mankind the principles upon which flow of time depends.

And now that I think of it, I feel that the number twelve is very
important also. Because, when twelve thousand ants come down the wall
the night changes to day and the day to night. Before I could be ready
to learn the ’’Science of Ants'' I was made to prepare for twelve
years. And why did they choose me for this task? Because, I am
prisoner number 1212. And yes, why are there twelve hours on the
clock? Now that I think about it, I understand.

( 2 )

Rumor came that night that on the next day there was going to be a
surprise inspection of the prison. The warden gave immediate orders to
clean up the whole facility. Guards came into the cell of prisoner
number 1212 also, and with the help of water and long brushes swept
all the walls and the floor clean.

’’Time has stopped..... ha ha ha.... time has stopped.... ha ha
ha, now I will drive time.... now I will drive time.... ha ha
ha.... look time starts to moves again... start moving... look here
it stops again... stop''. They heard from his cell the next day.

Then later on that afternoon they heard, ’’Only ten thousand ants have
passed so far.... two thousand are still left... two thousand are
still left... why have these ants stopped?... Why have they stopped?''

Then they could hear as if something was thumping against the wall,
and the prisoner was saying, ’’time is moving again... the ants are
moving again.... time has started... the ants have started.... but
they don't come down in a column any longer... they come down in a
stream... in a stream...''.

That night when the guard went to give him dinner, he found the
prisoner's dead body lying on the floor. The prisoner had bled
excessively from his skull.

Later on when they looked up the records on the prisoner, they found
that he was arrested during an uprising for rights and freedom. And
for the last 16 years he had been lodged in prison without even a
trial. In defense of the law some newspapers carried a story that he
was that unfortunate man whom time forgot.