Deafening Silence

“Osman! Osman!” The scream shattered the artificial calm. We froze as the woman vanished.  Then, silence. Deafening, final. 

The magnet train moved at a mind-bending speed through tunnels deep in the basements.  We were staring at the glass towers, their tops hidden by clouds, and at the multi-layered roads  on which driverless cars were moving rapidly. The artificial lights contested with daylight. We  were souls who had spent nearly half our lives in exile, having buried the dream of one day  returning to our homeland and building a noble future for our ancient but wounded country. And  now, the time had finally come to make that dream a reality. To heal our wounded country, to be  a balm for the wounded souls of this land. The wounds had been open for a hundred years, each  second draining all the joy and lightheartedness from the souls of this land. We were a group of eight scientists who were specialists in our fields and had graduated from the best universities in the world. 

As the eight of us sat in the cozy chairs of the train's wagon, we were  trapped by the sight of Kabul's new appearance. I smiled and said, “Finally, we’re back  home. This is the country we always dreamed of.” Dr. Mehra, a nanotechnology engineer,  eagerly said, “Imagine, while we are talking, many robots are working in factories even without  human intervention, underground roads transporting endless humans, and skyscrapers operating  with clean energy. Afghanistan isn’t a war-torn country anymore.” 

Hamid, an energy specialist, let out a bitter smile and stated, “It is true that our country is alive  again, but all of this came at a cost.” He swallowed his saliva and said in a hoarse, sorrowful  voice, “Imagine what our parents and grandparents would have said if they had seen these 

advancements. The ones who never saw the true face of happiness. The ones who suffered more  than their fair share, and whose hearts bore more pain than anyone in the world.” 

Hamid’s words ended just as the train entered the tunnel, and for a few moments, everyone was  absorbed in a deadly silence, all of us contemplating the terrifying past of our elders. And once  again, it was the ominous shadow of the past that cast itself in our present. Everyone remained  

silent as the bitter memories of the past scratched our hearts. The train reached its destination and  the big glass doors opened. At a glance, the city was perfect, but under its shining appearance, a  horrible fact was hidden. Robots were everywhere, serving people. Restaurants were the most  attractive part of the city. Everything in the restaurants was made of glass, everything was clear, there were no barriers to our sight, but we wished everything was as clear as the restaurants in this country. The tables were also made of glass and were programmed  to take orders. At a glance, there was nothing except glass, but once you sat, a window appeared in the table containing the menu and took orders. In a few minutes, a humanoid robot brought your orders. After finishing eating, there was a small hatch at the end of the table, designed like a glass column which allowed you to deposit leftover food and recycle it into energy. 

We were lost in the city's advancements, but suddenly everything went dark before our eyes. At  the painful scream of a woman, everything lost its color. The woman was calling “Osman,  Osman,” and crying. All the attention was on the woman, but no one dared to ask or do anything. The present people were careless and unresponsive as if it was not a strange  coincidence. It was so weird. Suddenly, the woman disappeared before our eyes and everything  went back to normal. We were still shocked and confused, and everyone was asking who that  woman was, why she was screaming, and where she had gone. The strange part was the quiet 

atmosphere. Hundreds of people were there and busy, but it was like no one was alive. The vibe  of the city was offbeat. We had no choice but to continue our way. We didn’t know if it was the normal mood of the city or not. 

On the way, everyone was silent until we arrived at our destination. Our plan was to visit my  brother and his small family. My brother’s name was Waheed and his only child was called  Baran, which means rain. In Afghanistan, people believe that rain is a blessing and mercy from  Allah. Since my brother and his wife prayed and sought treatment for years to have a child and  knew it was a gift from Allah for them, they called him Baran. I was very enthusiastic to see  Baran. I had been in contact with my nephew for almost two years, but it had been months since  I had heard from him. Since interaction through social media had another face, and social  media had the ability to recognize our feelings through our voice and the sentences we typed, I  was able to recognize his feelings and have a better connection with him. Interacting with him  and guiding him to program his own robot had been one of my favorite activities. In our last  communication, he told me that he had found a broken robot in the mountain and intended to fix  it for himself. “Uncle, look! I made it climb the wall,” Baran had grinned through the screen.  “Next time I’ll make him talk like you.” When he did not call me, I thought he must have been  busy fixing the robot and programming it. And now it was time to see him in the real world, hug  him for a long time, and teach him everything about programming. With a mind full of plans for his future, we arrived at our destination. 

The door system was such that when the house owner entered some details of another person’s  ID card into the door security system, the door would open only when the intended person  provided their ID card, which was like a piece of glass, and then the door recognized the person  and opened. We passed the door and entered the building. The house felt just as quiet and 

desolate as the city. I called my brother, “Waheed! Waheed!” but no one answered. When we  found the house vacant, we had no choice except to leave the house. 

Outside the house, I saw Mohammad, an eight-year-old boy who was Baran’s close friend. I  knew him from my interactions with Baran. All the time, he accompanied Baran in his plans and  in following his dreams. They both had a strange enthusiasm for experiencing and testing  everything, as I had seen when talking with them, but this time, only fear and terror were plainly  visible on his face, and he repeatedly whispered these words: “They took him away.” Omid sat  on the ground to be at the same level with him and kindly kissed him and asked, “My dear, why  are you afraid? And what are you talking about?” He hesitantly said, “They took Baran away.” 

“Who took him?” This time, Dr. Narges Sadat, a technology specialist, asked. Mohammad  pointed to the mountain in the distance. Again, he pointed out at the mountain. “That is where  they go. No one ever comes back.” 

We couldn’t believe what we heard. I was shocked and didn’t know what to do. Still, we were  stunned and speechless when my brother Waheed and his wife came. I asked him, “Is it true?  How did it happen? When did it happen? And why didn’t you tell me?” Waheed remained silent.  This time, his wife Nazanin was the one who broke the silence and shouted, “Why are you quiet?  Why don’t you say anything? Why don’t you say they kidnapped a piece of our being? They  kidnapped our only wealth, our only child, our Baran!” While she was saying these words, she  was hitting Waheed, and he was trying to make her silent. “Don’t say his name too loud. The  walls… listen. They will come to us,” and he put his hand over her mouth. 

While this happened, we noticed robots paused unnaturally when Baran’s name was mentioned  and some red lights flickered. All the time, Waheed was looking around to check if anyone was 

watching them. I became sure that something was going wrong. I asked them, “What are you  talking about?” but none of them answered. Waheed wanted us to enter the house. As we  accompanied my brother, I was reviewing all the coincidences: the strange atmosphere of the  city, the woman who had been shouting, and the disappearance of Baran. All of these events  spoke of a looming shadow, a darkness that held everything and everyone in its grip. I moved  with the others, lost in my thoughts until we stepped into the house. My brother went to bring  some water to calm Nazanin. She was like a spirit, and I couldn’t wait any longer to ask the question that had been devouring my mind like a parasite. 

“Where is Baran?” 

Nazanin’s lips moved, but no sound came. Her hands trembled against her chest. Only when a  tear dropped did I realize she would say something. Whispered, like a curse: 

“I looked for him in every street. I asked everyone in this city, but no one had any clue. No one  knew where my darling was.” Tears began to fall down her plump but colorless cheeks. The  words that came out of her mouth were unbelievable. 

“The dark shadows took my son away. No one dares to question it. Anyone who dares...  vanishes.” 

The woman I was once accustomed to seeing was now nothing more than a walking corpse. Her  broken heart’s sighs and groans were the only things breaking the deafening silence of the night,  like the blade of a razor piercing the heart of every living creature. 

Despite all the improvements and facilities that people had in their lives, there was a dark, ominous shadow reigning over the country. In the depths of their souls in this doomed country, an unknown silent fear was growing incrementally with every passing day without  being seen. When someone disappeared, no one dared to question, no one dared to seek answers.  If they searched for the buried truth, their own soul would fade into the darkness. 

It is a humiliating feeling, when you pity your people and your homeland. For the land that  once was the jewel of Asia, for what you once were and are no longer, for the emotions that had  once blazed within us. Now, nothing more than ashes remained, surrounded by absolute darkness. We were not tired souls of this world, they made us tired. They broke us into many pieces, they left us in despair, abandoned us, and when nothing was left of us, they placed all the blame on us, shamelessly without a hint of guilt. Of course, we were not without fault either; we too had our share in the mistakes that led us here. We let them keep us trapped in ignorance, we let them control us, lie to us, and take from us the dare of questioning. 

Despite my brother’s objections regarding searching for Baran, and his warnings to keep silent,  we searched for Baran in the alleys he no longer walked through, in the gathering of children  where he was no longer present, and in the hideaway where he no longer spent time. He was no  longer with us. 

Every ounce of our efforts proved useless. Tired of relentless pursuits, we found ourselves  staring at each other’s faces, which yielded hopelessness and sorrow. Omid, paranoid, said, “It  was a sweet dream to believe this mournful country would be healed. As far as I think, people of  this country are cursed and they live in endless misery.” Raising his hands and pointing to the  skyscrapers and robots, he shouted, “Now, in the 22nd century, with all these highly advanced  technologies, we are still losing our beloved ones. Before, we lost them because of war; now we  lose them in another way. No difference. Still, we are miserable.”

Continuing his speech, Dian mentioned, “I think if we take a look at the history of Afghanistan,  we will find that the starting point that ruined the past and future of the country was the moment  America stepped onto this soil. I think America invaded Afghanistan not only to overthrow the  Taliban and to eradicate al-Qaeda’s terrorist networks but also for truer reasons: the ambition to  rule a land with a brilliant history and immense assets And the desire to reign over a land that embodied its power in the area, and to have control over other countries. That attack was not only an attack; it took our future, it stole the assets hidden in the heart of this country, it took away our right to choose our own path, and finally, it opened a path for evil groups to reign over this sacred land and abuse it for their own advantage.” 

Noora let out a bitter laugh and whispered, “Even nature was unkind to us, and we were not safe  from the anger and fury of Mother Nature. It was merciless and ruthless toward us like we were  the ones who disrupted the order of nature. I remember my mother always mourning for the  family members who had once made her life colorful. Her life lost its color when the earth in  Herat roared violently, turning their home into her siblings’ grave.” She continued as tears  flowed from her eyes, “They were looking for someone alive in the ruins that had once been their  only sanctuary.” 

When we arrived, we had a different idea, thinking that our country was alive again. For the first  time, we were testing the true meaning of life. We were living our lives and we were happy  again, but we weren't aware that happiness was an unfamiliar word for the souls trapped in these  bodies, and for the souls that bore the wounds of burying the dream of the transcendence of their  homeland.

We were birds that had grown accustomed to the cage of ignorance. Birds that had forgotten how  to fly and couldn’t imagine beyond this cage. The world behind this cage, which surpassed the  boundaries of imagination. It is always said that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” but  no one says it comes at a cost. Sometimes at the cost of losing a part of your existence, at the  cost of wearing mourning attire forever. That you have to learn to live with its absence, stop  waiting for its return, and accept that the spin of the wheel of this world would never touch this  tired soul’s taste. 

Tired of knocking on every door looking for Baran, I remembered his speech about finding a  robot in the mountains. Something sparked in my mind, and without wasting time, we looked for  Mohammad Jan among the gathering of children who were playing. After a short time, we  finally found his house and asked his mother for Mohammad Jan. When she found out our  intention, she screamed and said, “Please leave my child alone, please let us live. I don't want to  mourn for another child. I don’t want another robot. I can't bear losing another child.” We were  confused. “Another child? Another robot?” We had a bunch of questions in our minds. When the  woman closed the door, suddenly Mohammad appeared from another side, coming home from  the park. Happily, we rushed toward him and each of us simultaneously started asking different  questions about Baran and the robot he had found in the mountain. He found himself bewildered  by the unending barrage of our questions. After I grasped the situation, I invited everyone to  keep quiet. I asked Mohammad Jan to take a deep breath and answer my question. "Where did  you find the robot? Please show us the exact place.” 

Mohammad Jan led us to the mountain, where we found out that the place was a forbidden  region. No one was allowed in except special robots, which had a different appearance from the 

other robots we saw everywhere. Actually, there was nothing special about the mountains. It was  a question for us why the mountain was a forbidden place, a strictly secured place. 

Omid said, “Give me a second.” Then, he took out a small glassy screen and opened it like a  book. When he put his finger on it, some information appeared on it. Omid repeated some words,  and the tool opened widely and started scanning the environment like a scanner, but an error appeared on the screen: “Scanning failed.” 

Hamid said, “Oops, it needs to be nearer to scan the area.” 

Our only ray of hope faded away in front of our eyes. We hesitated between all those skyscrapers  and watching eyes fixed on the distant horizon. As we looked everywhere, we encountered dark  shadows and absolute darkness that swallowed everything. In the first step, Baran appeared  before my eyes, who turned every road upside down with his pure innocence and was after his  childlike joy in this merciless world. A deep sense of shame burdened us for the knowledge we  had acquired in exile, nurtured by the hope of one day returning and serving the advancement of  our homeland. Among all those crowds, we were thinking of the very presence and absence of  human values, and among the countless footsteps of humanoid robots and robot-like humans, we  seemed to be a fragment of the air itself in silence—not lost souls crying out. 

We people were like defenseless dandelions in the wind, whose fate could be shaped by every wind and everyone. But it was enough that the real meaning was to be a doll in the hands of others, to be in drifting and captivity. Someone needed to take a step to change the situation, no matter how small and tiny, even if it was like the steps of a baby learning to walk. The only significant thing was that as scientists, this was our responsibility to be the initiators of this move, and to teach other people. Therefore, we rose and began our search to unfold the secrets. Since we did not want to draw others' attention to ourselves, we told people  that we were investors and before carrying our money here and investing in the country, we  should know the situation of the country and evaluate how people live. 

While making inquiries, we noticed some people were repeating this sentence: “Here, everything  is great. We do not have any problem and our country is the best country in the world,” like a  robot someone scripted only these words in its memory. Almost half of the people in the society  responded similarly, and others who were somehow honest answered with fear. After endless  wandering and exhaustion, we found the answers we were searching for that could rekindle the  light of hope in our hearts. We found out some groups existed who were against the political  system and technology. We exchanged distinct thoughts with them, especially in terms of using technology, but knowing that there were some people who did not blindly follow the despotic government’s system gave us hope. Although we had different beliefs, it was enough that we lived under one sky and shared a common ground. 

Days passed. We did not find these groups, so we were getting desperate. But finally, by applying  our knowledge and using modern technology, we found a clue about them. Through a device that detects radars of human activities, we found a group inhabiting a dense forest far from any kind of advanced technology, using basic and handmade tools in their daily life. They believed that modern technology destroyed the real meaning of life. It rendered a meaningless and artificial life to humans—lives that are not natural, lives far from effort, which forms and strengthens humans and their humanity. They also believed that all natural disasters which  occurred or would occur were only the wrath of nature in response to human actions that disrupted nature’s order.

While we considered finding the group an achievement, we faced a big challenge, because as we  entered the region, we had been caught and imprisoned by the group members. The prison was a  room in the heart of the dense forest, between trees. Actually, it was a room which had been  made from stone and basic materials. There was a woven carpet made of reeds and a bolster  inside the room. It had a small door which a man with medium stature and weight could hardly  pass through. Also, there was a small hole for light to pass through it. During the first days of our  captivity, we counted every passing second and intensely pleaded to speak with the leader of the  group, but our efforts were useless. 

On the fourth day, as we were waiting for sunset, the door opened and a watchman entered. He  guided us to the leader’s room in a very respectful manner. At first glance, the room was filled  with skulls of various animals and the skins of lions and tigers. The seat of the leader was  dazzling; it was decorated with feathers of different birds, and wooden eagles were engraved into  the two armrests of the chair. The leader of the group was an old man. It was clear from his  appearance that he had lived about eighty years. We all entered the room. Worry and fear were  visible in our eyes and faces. Our eyes were fixed on him, waiting for him to issue the command  for our execution, since there was a rumor in the city that these people don’t allow scientists to  live because they believed that modern knowledge and technology were responsible for all the  suffering of the people and every scientist who entered their territory never came back. 

Contrary to our expectations, the leader of the group lifted an old two-dimensional photo he was  holding and asked, “Whose photo is this?”. Hamid, with fear and hesitation, raised his hand. The leader quickly approached him. Our hearts  were pounding with fear. To our astonishment, he hugged Hamid and said, “Where were you? I  searched everywhere for you for years, but I couldn't find you.” He was crying like a child. 

Then we found out that the leader’s name was Jalil Ahmad and he was Hamid's cousin, who was  lost in a flood. Since after the flood all of Hamid's family migrated, Jalil Ahmad was not able to  find his family. 

He told us, “The government leaves us alone, because we are not a threat to them. We are people that no one knows and are living in the shadows following our beliefs.” After we reached an agreement with the group, we decided to find out the secrets of  the mountain. 

I said, “We have a problem, friends; we are not allowed to enter.” 

Dian mentioned, “Hey! I have a suggestion. Why don’t we use our invention, the Light Bending  Suit, to uncover the secret?” 

The day had come to perform our plan. With the help of the group members, we reached the  intended place and Hamid started his job: scanning the area with his invention. For the first few seconds, there was nothing on the screen, but gradually it started to sketch some buildings in the heart of the mountain. 

Omid said, “It seems it’s not just a mountain.” 

Noora said, “I do not know why, but I suspect we might find a lead on Baran right here.” 

Since the suit was able to make a person invisible for five minutes, we decided I should wear the  suit as I was the only one who could hack various systems and unlock the way for others to step 

in. Now, we were all near the intended place. Saying, “In the name of Allah,” I wore the suit and  went toward the forbidden place. I needed to act quickly to have extra seconds to breach the  system. 

While the others entered the forbidden place and searched to uncover the truth of this place or  find any clue about Baran, I got stuck in a hidden coded folder, which took time to decode. In the  folder, there was a platform named Essence of Life. The name attracted my attention, so I  opened it. There were two icons, namely: Children with High Essence of Life and Children with  Low Essence of Life. The content of the first icon included a map on which some regions of  Kabul were marked with red points. For understanding, I clicked on the Darul Aman point.  Another page opened, containing a list of names and some details about them. In front of each  name, there was a box; some were checked, and some were blank. I saw the name of Baran,  which was checked. 

This evidence assured me that the disappearance of Baran was somehow related to this place.  Also, Essence of Life was a weird phrase to me, so I was deeply curious to uncover what it  meant. I searched it in the system, and the information that appeared on the screen was shocking.  It was written that the Essence of Life was a rare substance that existed in some children’s hearts.  This unique substance could provide energy for robots for 100 years. Only some special children  had this substance, and between the ages of six and ten, this substance reached its peak. 

By searching more, I found out that the power holders in this land had mastered the science of  life and developed a protocol to conduct some special tests from the moment of birth to  determine the level of Essence of Life in every child. Based on the level of Essence of Life, they  carefully implanted chips in children’s bodies. However, these chips were dormant; they 

remained vigilant until the moment the Essence of Life reached its critical threshold. When that  moment arrived, the chip sent a signal, alerting the central system. They could then extract this  precious essence before it faded, as the child grew older and the substance was lost forever. 

There were also photos of huge machines that I saw when I entered the place, written on them  Extracting Essence of Life. 

How long would this robotic and soulless life last? 

Would that deafening silence break? Or would it grow even more deafening despite all this noise?