Jumanazar Yoldosh
By: Jumanazar Yoldosh
– Another hopeless morning dawned…
Munisa, who was suffering from illness and had the last spark of a vital symptom in her weak body, sighed heavily as she stared at the window where the morning dew was falling.
“Why do you call me my daughter?” You will recover as if you were not yet old!
Sister Nuria’s attempt to wait for such a vain day was ineffective for Munisa. Because he felt from his very being that his death was inevitable, he spent every day as a moment of saying goodbye to the world, and asked God to forgive his sins.I seem to live to die. I would like to live to live, but not all wishes can be fulfilled…
– My daughter, despair is the devil. Think good things, think of me. After all, you are my one and only daughter, the apple of my eye… It kills me to imagine being separated from you!
Sister Nuria couldn’t stop crying secretly (so as not to affect her daughter even worse) since her daughter was nailed to the bed. Her words and eyes, which expressed her willingness to part with her life, were more heartbreaking than her plight.No matter how much she tried to hope for her daughter to get back on her feet and get better, it was in vain, and this again affected her flickering, weak hope. But sister Nuria thinks that a person should be strong-willed when needed, and with this, it is as if she gave herself strength, and based on this strength, she took care of her daughter. Munisa liked her mother’s care, because she thought that she would be one of the lucky ones if only one person could cry after the dying person, and she saw that only person in her mother.The mother brought the steaming hot mastava to her daughter. Munisa looked at the food and laughed for some reason, but still sat up with difficulty. Sister Nuria took the cup in her hand and began to drink to her daughter.
– What does a person eat?
Ever since she got sick, Munisa had made a habit of asking strange questions, which made her mother think and wonder.
– To enter the body.
what does a man with power do?
– Lives: works, plays, laughs…
– Why should I eat, after all, I can’t do these things.
– You get better, then you can do…
Munisa laughed again. The fact that he did not get a satisfactory answer to his questions could be seen from his dull face, and it was evident that he was not eating without appetite.
– I have had enough. Tell me something about hope, something about life.
Sister Nuria put the half-baked cup aside in her mind, thinking about what to say. He liked to tell his daughter fairy tales and stories, because only then did his daughter’s face light up and her depression seemed to disappear a little.
– Once upon a time there was a dove, she waited a long time for her egg to hatch. In the end, the egg cracked open and came out. He is very small and quiet. He lacked agility and strength like the others. He mumbled: “I can’t fly, my wings are weak, I’m not like others.” Then his father said to him: “I believe in you more than anyone, you will surely conquer the sky, the sound of your wings will spread to the whole sky.”
The weak pigeon was encouraged by these words, overcame his fear and began to practice flying without stopping. His efforts were not in vain, he began to fly, although he was low. After the opportunity passed, the wings grew stronger and finally the wings began to darken in the sky. He really flew freely in the sky because of the trust and hope shown to him…
Munisa listened quietly and thoughtfully. He knew that his mother loved pigeons, so he knew that she had told stories about this bird.
– Hey, why did dad leave us?
It was painful for Nuria to answer this difficult question. The despondency of any abandoned woman was now visible on her face in a way that Munisa had never seen before. He felt a pain in his heart as if a vein had been cut off.
– Your father… was a good man. I was bad. That must be why…
Munisa was asking this question for the first time, her mother always tried to change the subject when talking about her father, she almost didn’t say anything. Later, when his mind became capable of many things, he noticed what kind of person his father really was…
– If he was a good person, would he leave?
Munisa uttered this sentence involuntarily, but it was an exclamation that had been kept in her heart for a long time, waiting to be released.
– Don’t say that, he will be your father after all. Without him, you wouldn’t exist either.
Munisa squeezed her mother’s hands sympathetically.
– It’s all because of my stupid illness. That’s why I’m talking nonsense.
The mother strokes her daughter’s hand without blaming.
– I have many dreams about you, my daughter. Only when you get well, that’s it. I want to see you grow up happy, I want to marry a good person, and I want to see grandchildren.
The daughter sighed deeply. Usually, a person who is disappointed with life or the serum of unfulfilled dreams sighs in the same way.
– I once loved a guy very much, oh…
“Really?” You didn’t tell me. Would you keep a secret from me?
– I didn’t say. I didn’t want to say. I don’t even know what I’m talking about now… Maybe I want to be lighthearted?…
– Did he love you too?
– I didn’t know. Maybe he loved, maybe not. That guy didn’t tell me what he meant. But I always felt that he was not indifferent to me. Our relationship probably didn’t reach the stage… Then my illness became known and we completely broke up…
Mother shook her head sadly.
– Did he move away from you? Or yourself?
– Me before he walked away from me
I couldn’t handle his, so…
– My daughter, don’t be sad! If you’re still recovering, you’ll find something even better!
“I don’t need anything better than that…”
– Why do you say that?
– He was like me, his heart is like my heart… He made me my whole being,
– Was it the same for him?
– Maybe it was!
– Then it won’t be easy for him to live without you, my daughter…
– After all, this is fate. Takes some getting used to…
Mother’s eyes moistened. He pressed his daughter’s weak body in his arms.
– If it was possible to take over your fate, I would get sick for you, I would give my life. God, why did you send this scourge on your young head of saltiness?!
– Don’t cry, honey. Don’t cry at all!
Munisa grabbed her mother’s shoulder, wiped her eyes, but there were no tears in her eyes, as if she had forgotten to cry, or she had run out of tears…
– This world is not worth crying. This world is for those who don’t cry.
The mother quickly came to her senses when she realized that she had cried too much as if she were losing her daughter.
– Okay, girl, rest a little.
– Hey, I want to fly away from here like a dove. Far away…
– …
– Open the window, honey. I need fresh air…
Sister Nuria pushed the shutter and opened the window. It was snowing really white outside.
– It started snowing!
Munisa smiled happily.
– Do you know why snow is white?
His mother shook her head.
– I think that snow is the joy, joy, happiness, dream of the sky. I always think so. I’ve always dreamed of leaving in this position, when it’s snowing…
Sister Nuria could not say a single word to her daughter, she was looking out the window at the white sky and praying to herself…
Jumanazar Yoldosh was born in 1997 in the village of Shomohulum, Khiva district.
He graduated from the Faculty of Uzbek
Philology of Urganch State University. His stories were published in regional, regional, republican and international newspapers.
Samples of creativity are included in the collections “Song of the Circles”, “Orzu va Deniz”, “Mushtarak Dilar”, “Ijod Gulshan”, “The Song of Uzbek Homeland”, “Yeni Nefes” anthologies.
Participant of the Republican Zomin seminar held in 2018. The winner of the “Spring of Uzbekistan” (Season II) republican creative festival held in Khiva in 2019.
His stories were translated into English, Russian, German, Turkish, Azerbaijani, and Vietnamese languages and published in newspapers, magazines, and literary websites of countries such as the USA, Russia, Germany, Italy, Turkey, Azerbaijan, Pakistan, and Vietnam.
Similar Posts by The Mt Kenya Times:
- Mt Kenya Times ePAPER August 28, 2026
- Kenya is losing fifteen mothers a day — and the numbers are getting worse
- Consolata International University opens new academic year with call to humanise artificial intelligence
- Written in gold, wielded in iron: Katiba@16 and the realities of power
- Mang’eni challenges universities to put entrepreneurship at the heart of learning
About the Author
