ఆదివాసుల మీద కథ రాయాలని చాలా కాలంగా అనుకుంటున్నాను.
ఇంగ్లీషులో
నోట్స్ రాసుకున్నాను. అలా ఇంగ్లీషులోనే ఓ కథ ఆర్డరు తయారయ్యింది. నాది
ఇంగ్లీషుకాదు తెంగ్లీషు. అంటే తెలుగులో ఆలోచించి ఇంగ్లీషులోనికి తర్జుమా చేసుకోవడం
అన్నమాట. దాన్ని సంస్కరించాల్సి వచ్చింది. అందుకు టెక్నాలజీ సహకారం తీసుకున్నాను.
కథ ఇలా వచ్చింది.
ఇదొక ప్రయోగం
మాత్రమే కనుక అస్థిపంజరంలా వున్నా ప్రచురించేస్తున్నాను. మీ సూచనలు ఇవ్వండి. దాన్ని
బట్టి ఫైనల్ స్టోరి తయారు చేస్తాను.
The
Cannibal’s Gospel
This story
explores the themes of identity, survival, and the devastating effects of
cultural collision.
The roaring thunder of the African waterfall rose above the laughter of
the American tourists. For them, this untamed wilderness was a spectacle, a
canvas painted in green and gold by a careless god. But joy turned to terror in
an instant. As Emily fell into the cascading torrent, her scream was swallowed
by the deafening water. They watched, powerless, as her fragile white form
vanished downstream, claimed by the merciless embrace of the current.
The group scattered along the riverbanks, desperate to
recover her body. Their search led them into the shadows of tribal villages,
where the faces of the locals betrayed neither guilt nor concern. Days passed,
and hope dwindled. Finally, a boy emerged—barefoot, dark as night, his eyes
sharp with an intelligence that belied his age.
Ochieng, they called him. He stood before the desperate Americans and
whispered the truth they feared. "We found her," he said, his voice
soft but unwavering. "Her skin was like snow, her body soft and ripe. We
cooked her, and she was... delicious."
The horror of the revelation swept across continents
like wildfire. The idea of a "white woman consumed by black savages"
ignited a storm of outrage in America. The Church reacted swiftly, sending
Father Thomas to the village. Armed with a Bible and a cross, he sought to
tame the "savages" and save their souls.
The tribes, wary yet intrigued, allowed him into their world. Father
Thomas built a church, a beacon of civilization in the heart of the jungle.
Among the curious was Ochieng, the boy who had first spoken of the woman’s
fate. He became the priest’s eager assistant, drawn less by faith than by the
allure of the wine that Father Thomas consumed each night.
Ochieng was clever, cunning even. He spun tales of
divine visions, claiming that God himself had commanded him to serve the
Father. Amused and pleased by the boy’s apparent devotion, the priest indulged
him, offering wine as a nightly reward.
Gradually, Ochieng adopted the ways of the church, trading his tribal
roots for the robes of a preacher. Years passed, and Ochieng—now Father
John—became a symbol of redemption, the “civilized savage” paraded by the
Church across America.
US Newspapers hailed him as a miracle, and senators invited him to their
clubs. Yet fame is a fickle mistress. When the novelty wore off, Ochieng found
himself abandoned, scraping by as a cobbler on the streets of New York.
As fate would have it, rebellion erupted in his homeland, a cry of
defiance against foreign exploitation. The U.S. government, eager to crush the
uprising, saw an opportunity in Father John. They gave him a uniform, a rank,
and a mission: to suppress the very people from whom he had sprung.
Promoted to Major John, he led his troops with brutal efficiency. The
rebels fell before his wrath, their villages burned, their cries silenced. In
his ascent, he had become the weapon of their destruction, severing the last
ties to his origins.
Standing amid the ashes of his birthplace, Major John looked upon the ruins
he had wrought. In the reflection of his polished boots, he saw not the boy who
once wandered barefoot but the man he had become—a perfect instrument of power,
forged by the forces he once feared.
The transformation was complete. Ochieng, the child of the jungle, had
been consumed by the machinery of civilization, his soul forever caught between
the worlds he had destroyed and the one that now claimed him.
//EOM//
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