Davlatova Shodiyona
The wide streets of the city. Someone is in a hurry somewhere. The sidewalks, tired of the noise and bustle, are covered with the special charm of the autumn season. The trees are preparing to throw their last leaves to the ground, as if preparing for sleep. The girl, walking softly over the fallen leaves, was lost in thoughts. She continues on her way, sad, with a look of despair on her face, and a thousand questions in her heart.
The sun sets early on autumn days, and today was the same. The golden rays of the sun, hidden behind the horizon, fell dimly on the girl’s eyes. But she paid no attention to either the sun or the “autumn”. She felt as if she could not find her place in this world. Looking at the world through her glasses, she thought more about her inner world than her appearance. People would look at her and say, “If she is still young, what problem can she have?”, and they would add, “She is not married, she has no children.” However, no one understood this: problems do not choose age. Each person has his own pain and suffering.
The girl sat down on a bench by the roadside. Although the cold air penetrated her thin clothes and reached her heels, she did not care. For a while he thought about his university. Now it was not the temperature that made him shiver, but something else. He was being expelled from the university…! There was no way to pay the contract fee, and dropping out would be like drawing a diagonal line in his life.
….How can one earn money?
Being a waitress? Washing dishes in the kitchen? No, she doesn’t fit into certain jobs because of her eyesight. In addition, her parents don’t allow permission either. Girls of her age who were returning from university passed by the girl. The security guard looked at the latest phones, their outerwear, and their faces as if there were no problems. Then he picked up his old phone from beside him, with part of the screen blackened. Looking at the numbers that were barely visible, he realized that it was getting late. He felt it when he returned to his apartment and got up quickly, because he didn’t want to be late. He returned to his apartment. A cold and messy room greeted him. He entered the room and made a place for himself. He put his bag on the chair with his clothes on and then went to bed with an empty stomach. He hadn’t had enough money for dinner because he had spent half of his money on books two days ago.
She smiled to herself and said, “Problems and pains keep coming.” She said she would eat something in the morning, but it didn’t happen, so she borrowed three or four soums from her roommates and set off. The dark night had enveloped the city, and the colorful, turf-like lights scattered across the ground were illuminating the roads with a certain loneliness. The air, which had been suffocating from the hustle and bustle of the day yesterday, turned into rain by evening. The girl stood at the bus stop, waiting impatiently for the bus that had not arrived for a long time. The raindrops were falling so small and dense that each one seemed to be soaking her in cold puddles. The surroundings were silent, except for the soft sound of water droplets scattered like coral on the concrete. She impatiently checked her watch. It was getting late. His heart sank, he imagined all the possible scenarios, and, thinking, “There’s no point in waiting,” he walked down the narrow street. This street…
This street somehow evoked a strange feeling in him. It was very narrow and cramped. The brick walls, freshly wet from the rain, changed color under the yellow light of the street lamps. The street was silent, as if taking a deep breath. Only him and his ghost! But suddenly his heart beat uneasily. It seemed that someone was coming behind him. He walked more often, bowing his head slightly and trying to listen, but there were no footsteps, but someone’s presence was felt. “No, it’s just my imagination,” he reassured himself, but the hadik took over his whole body. As he hurried, he could clearly hear his heart pounding. The sound of his own heartbeat rang in his ears. And the rain was pouring down like a shower, decorating the earth with pearls.
__Suddenly he turned around. But no one was there.
Suddenly, he lost his balance, caught in an invisible trap beneath his feet. His left foot fell into a ditch, his body tilted forward, and he fell to the ground.
Without even feeling the pain, her heart began to beat frantically again. And then, a strange hand reached out to her;
A strong and reliable hand. Although the rain was soaking her, it radiated some kind of warmth. The girl slowly raised her head and met the gaze of the unfamiliar young man who was staring at her. At that moment, it seemed that the rain around her, the silence of the narrow street, and the noise of her heartbeat had disappeared. Only the eyes met. Eyes that still shone under the rain, somehow mysterious, somehow helpless…
The girl looked at him, panting. The young man did not smile. There was neither surprise nor the usual courtesy on his face. Perhaps, only something flashed in his eyes.
– Are you okay? — a low, quiet, and slightly worried voice was heard.
The girl stammered:
- I… I… okay — she hurriedly replied and walked towards her apartment.
The young man stood there a little confused, but this girl had also made a special impression on him.
It was just a meeting that didn’t seem like a coincidence… Exactly one day later, when the girl was sitting in front of the university entrance, a little girl came up to her. She had a book in her hand.
— Here, they gave it to you…
The girl was surprised and took the book.
— Who?
— I don’t know…
She glanced at the cover of the book. “I am You.”
The girl’s heart beat faster again. She started to leaf through the pages. Every page seemed to contain familiar, yet unknown feelings. It was as if the author had heard a mysterious voice inside her and had written it down on paper.
“I am not exactly who or what I am. Everyone understands me differently. Sometimes I am present in existence, sometimes I am not. I am the voice inside you. When you understand yourself, I am you. You always have a second chance. You are alive and life.”
She felt relieved. It was as if she understood that life was not over yet, that she was ready to start discovering life again.
These words awakened some new feelings in her. Who was the author of the book? Did he know about my life? How did he put such precise words on paper?
The girl took the book in her hands. Among the papers, it was as if her unanswered questions lay among the papers. Today, the landscapes she had seen every day and barely paid attention to seemed to have a different strangeness. Everything was different, they were different! Today, she could see the traces of time on every road. She could see the result of years in every broken brick and every worn-out piece.
At that moment, the phone rang. It wasn’t her parents. It wasn’t her friend either. An unfamiliar number. She hesitated a little. Then, taking a deep breath, she answered.
— Hello?
The voice was quiet, gentle, and familiar.
— Hello. Excuse me, I… I just saw you today.
The girl’s heart returned to its previous strange beat. It was the same guy.
— Yes… You…?
— Yes, I. Did you buy a book in front of the university today?
— Yes…
— This book is no coincidence.
The girl’s heart beat so hard that it seemed as if her voice was echoing throughout the room.
— What… What do you mean?
— I gave you this book.
— Why?..
— Because I know about you.
The book in the girl’s hand fell down. Her heart rate was getting faster and faster.
— Who are you…?
— Me?.. I am a coincidence.
The phone connection was cut off.
The girl involuntarily looked at the book. The words written between its thick pages seemed like the secret answers to her life. Who is this guy? Why does he know him? Why this book? But her heart told her:
“This story is not over yet.”
(Yes, this is a coincidence – the coincidence the guy was looking for, this was the answer the girl was looking for)
Davlatova Shodiyona
Uzbekistan
2nd year student of the “International Relations” department of the “Foreign Policy and International Economic Relations” faculty of Tashkent State University of Oriental Studies.
Amateur poetess. Her poems and stories have been published in several magazines and newspapers.
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