Urinbaeva Nazokat Zuhriddin qizi
By Urinbayeva Nazokat
Worth Noting:
- Uzbek is still young and gets used to everything quickly. We are strangers if not She needs a loving mother and good attention.
- On the one hand, I think it’s okay to do that. What do you say, brother? The father, stunned by the cold water on his head, sighed deeply, wondering what to say to the unexpected question. When Siddiq aka entered the room, he saw an Uzbek painting. -Son.
- Do you like your uncle Asadulla? – Yes, I love it. “I love you … I love you more than they do, Daddy,” he said, hugging his father.
He was born on July 8, 2001 in Parkent district of Tashkent region. He graduated with a Silver Medal for Academic Achievement. He is currently a 3rd year student at the Faculty of Journalism of the National University of Uzbekistan named after Mirzo Ulugbek, teaching philology and languages: Uzbek language.
He has published more than 30 journalistic articles in national newspapers and magazines, more than 15 scientific articles in prestigious journals abroad. He has participated in such creative anthologies as “Ona tilim-ilhom manbai”, “Erkin Vohidov izdoshlari”, “Nurafshon ilhomlari”, “Istiqbolli kadam”, “Uzbek writer’s part II”, “The song of Uzbek Homeland”. . ENGLISH The sky shook, and thunder roared. Lightning struck the log at the top of the hill. The rocks also trembled. I was saddened by the roar of the river and the torrential downpour.
The tears of the clouds wash the earth. Birds that have been left in the rain embrace their pupae. Every year, with the onset of rain, the disease of the Permit recurs. The heart beats faster and it is difficult to breathe. These days, the rainfall in the hills has decreased. But Siddiq aka’s heart is full of greed. Permission in your mind.
How long has he been walking on the rocks? What if she doesn’t see her children? After gathering the sheep, Siddiq aka left everything to his brother Asadullah in the afternoon. Midnight. It’s starting to rain. Siddiq aka Arang barely reached his house. The house is as quiet as a flood, except for the raindrops falling on the roof and the almond blossoms on the ground. Fearing a thunderstorm, the children crawled under the blankets.
The wind was strong and the yard was covered with almond blossoms. The face of the yard is white. When Siddiq aka entered the house, Ijozat was groaning uncontrollably. Her hair was disheveled and she was throwing herself everywhere. When he saw Siddiq aka coming in, he wanted to get up. He couldn’t stand it. At that moment, Ijozat could not breathe, his eyes opened wide and he fainted. Siddiq aka hurriedly called an ambulance. Before reaching the hospital, Ijazat died. It’s been two years. There is not a day that I don’t remember Siddiq aka Ijozat.
Raising children and household chores made him very tired. Every week, his brother Asadullah and his daughter-in-law Munawwar receive news. Munawwar is hardworking and kind to children .But it is difficult to nail. One day, while the brothers were talking, Asadullah took a deep breath in a serious tone: “It simply came to our notice then. As God afflicted His servants and tested their patience. We came to a decision after consulting with the family. If we bring up Uzbeks. Would your daughter-in-law play with it too? It’s too shabby to paint.
Uzbek is still young and gets used to everything quickly. We are strangers if not She needs a loving mother and good attention. On the one hand, I think its okay to do that. What do you say, brother? The father, stunned by the cold water on his head, sighed deeply, wondering what to say to the unexpected question. When Siddiq aka entered the room, he saw an Uzbek painting. -Son. Do you like your uncle Asadulla? – Yes, I love it. “I love you … I love you more than they do, Daddy,” he said, hugging his father.
Siddiq aka’s heart sank. Tears welled up in his eyes. – Tomorrow you will go to the mountains with your uncles. Now you live with them. I, your brothers, will keep in touch with you. -Dad, if I leave, who will lie next to you? Who will cover your bed? “Send my brother Qahhor to replace me,” he said, hanging around his father’s neck. Siddiq aka could not find answers to his son’s questions. It was as if she had hidden her tears. Asadullah rode an Uzbek on a saddled horse and reached the mountain when the sun rose.
The surroundings are lush. There are yearlings on one side and sheep on the other. And behind the mountain is a proud rock. The stones that fell from his bosom were as fragile as the heart of Siddiq aka, who took his child in his arms.
Asadullah put his head down to rest and closed his eyes. Munawwar, who is baking at the hearth, is busy with food. He immediately missed his Uzbek father and brothers, who were waiting for him, and apparently wanted to leave at the same time. He hugged his father’s shoes and ran barefoot down the path … When the Uzbeks arrived in the village, it was pitch black.
From a distance came the barking of dogs. The full moon that accompanied him on the way was with him at the top of that precious wooden door. “If I walk in the door, the door will squeak and my father will wake up,” he said, climbing over the wall and down into the yard. His father entered the bedroom on tiptoe. Siddiq aka was sleeping alone. The Uzbek went under the blanket and fell asleep, hugging his father tightly.
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