Short stories by Asror Allayarov (Uzbekistan ) / Translated by Munira Norova

 

Asror Allayarov

Short stories by Asror Allayarov (Uzbekistan )

Translated by Munira Norova

 

 

 Five encounters

 

Gazing at Gulruh opa ’s face, with winkles linking her brows, one might think that she is over eighty, however, she is only fifty-six. And he who has an interest in her life thinks that nothing but loneliness, the most severe punishment for women, could ruin her so soon.

The doctor agreed to perform her leg operation for 1,400,000 soums. As she was returning from the hospital with a pensive air, the noise of a taxi, stopped right in front of her, scattered her thoughts. Glancing at the driver made her flesh creep somehow. The same thing had happened as she saw the doctor. The taxi-driver asked for double fare. He coaxed her money out of that little old woman easily.

Gulruh opa decided to have a snack in a café near her apartment. A waiter led her to a table in the corner. The woman ordered a slice of bread and chalob . But she had to pay double to the waiter.

Gulruh opa noticed some one pulling her purse out of her bag when she was stepping along the street towards her flat. She could not run after the thief, neither could she resist him. But, on turning back she felt that the young man’s appearance was familiar. The woman stopped when she got to a pavement near the apartment in which she lived. Her eyes were failing and becoming more dull day after day, her legs did not obey her. A pretty girl with plaited hair approached the woman and took her hands gently. The girl gave her a bright smile. Gulruh opa gave a sudden start, as if God held her hands. The eyes of the girl reminded the woman of somebody. The girl helped her to cross the road.

On entering home, Gulruh opa kneeled as usual before the photos of five babies, hung on the wall for twenty years. All of those babies were her children. She conceived them with her lover when she was young, and sold them to childless families for heaps of money. As she grieved before them, she felt that she accidentally met all of her five children this day.

 

 

A minute and half

 

The west wind was blowing a woman’s smell who was coming slowly own home. This smell was very familiar to a man who was ready to meet her and it reminded a child something, playing admiringly with his clay toy just in front of the house.

“I was sure you would come.” – The man thought. He clarified when the woman would reach there, having estimated the distance between them with his gaze. – “In a minute and a half she would appear in front of me. Certainly, she will   hold in detestation to me and won’t try to hide it. And I’ll respond her quietly. Of course, it is true, I’m guilty for all. It will be cleared up whom of us the last four years changed and how.”

He took a step forward. He did it automatically. All his courage was hardly enough to do only it. The approaching woman was his wife whom he lost in gambling four years ago.

Torture, seemed inevitable to split out from the man’s body, created a wish, which can change something, coming into being such moments. Though his worst fault suffered him so many times, the man did never agitate as he did today. He was also thinking about the eyes which would fight severely a minute and a half later.

The woman rushed by her husband and hugged her child, looking at her quietly. She felt a pain, thinking about that the child was growing without her, the child who was on her mind in every lost minute since she left home. On returning home, the early beams of smile, which vanished for long, lined a real human’s appearance on her face through wrinkles, vestiges of severe fate.

The child began pushing her aside with his muddy hands. Having torn himself away from the hug of the woman, who was already vanished from his memory, the child ran for his father.

 

 

 LITERARY MAGAZINE ATUNIS NR.3 – 4 , MAY 2016

 A PUBLICATION OF POETICAL GALAXY  “ ATUNIS

 

 

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