Marking May as the “Short Story Month,” Words Without Borders highlights some of its stellar past publications, the Dagestani-Russian novelist Alisa Ganieva’s bitterly comic “A Village Feast” among them.
Moulid Iftin Hujale
Early one Saturday evening, I arrived home earlier than usual after very tiresome and long visits from friends and particularly my grandmother. I had eaten some food and slept. It was a surprise to many colleagues who looked in that night to find me in bed as early.
“Why, Moulid you mean you never want to follow us??” They asked. I complained that I was not feeling well and jokingly told them that “early to bed makes man healthy, wealthy and wiser.” Later they left.
From there the only thing I remembered was sleeping while putting on my shoes. That night I had a lot of dreams but the most interesting one was that: I went to the forest with my uncle who was looking for firewood. He allowed me to follow him reluctantly and I enjoyed being with him.
Four hours later, the trouble started. We lost our way and as he tried to climb a very long tree to see if there is anyone to help us.
I heard a very deafening sound and ran away before he could even come down to save me. Later, I found myself in deep jungle. Much to my surprise, I found all the animals in that jungle, and voting. I was voted to be the king, for the lion had a lot of problems and could not be voted. I became the king of the jungle. I woke up feeling great and delightful but in the morning all I found was my family members gathering around me, laughing at me.
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