Mokhira Eshpulatova (Uzbekistan)
Mokhira Eshpulatova is a Uzbek writer. She was born in Khatirchi district of Navoiy region, Republic of Uzbekistan on October 25, 1995. She graduated from Navoiy Pedagogical University. By profession she is a teacher of Uzbek language and literature.
Whe I saw this flower on my friend’s window grill, I fell in love with it at first sight. When I asked where such a beautiful flower, whose name we both did not know, came from, my friend could not give an unequivocal answer. This amazing plant with tiny purple flowers has always stood there. Its large, palm-sized, beautiful leaves carpeted the window grill.
My friend noticed I am not taking my eyes off the flower, asked:
– Do you want me to give it to you?
She didn’t like the idea, and she was doing it for the sake of our friendship. I always put other people’s desires above my own, so I did not take my friend’s offer and deprived her.
Ad when I was about to leave her, her friend went to the flower plant and cut off one branch.
– When you get home, immediately plant it on the ground. It is not capricious. Quickly take root – she said, then added. – Take care of it. How nice, now this flower will grow in my and your house.
Ah, my little friend, romantic, with a soul as beautiful as a flower… When I took this flower from you, I was holding not a weak twig, but the love of the entire world. For love cannot be big or small. It can either be or not be. And that’s it.
“Whe I get home, the first thing I’ll do is find a flowerpot and plant this flower plant,” I thought. But when I got home, I didn’t find a pot. So I put the branch in water. Then I did my daily chores, in which I just “drowned”. Maybe that’s where it all started. Or maybe even much earlier…
Thus, the branch stood in the water for quite some time while I was about to purchase a properly sized flower pot and plant it. Really, I took good care of it. Knowing that plant don’t wilt for long in sweet water, I added a little sugar to the water. Every day, when I came home from school, I would change its water and scold myself for forgetting to go to the flower shop. After all, it was next to the subway station, where I went out…
Days ad weeks passed, and suddenly there were buds on the plant. Maybe it bloomed thanks to my sweet water, or maybe it helped that I moved it to bright places every day. Or maybe it bloomed because it was about to bloom. I don’t know. But when it bloomed, it was still standing in the water, leaning sideways, dangling to the ground. Every day, as I changed the water in the vase, I saw the increasingly elongating thin roots. I imagined that after I planted the flower on the ground, it would bloom marvelously. But one day | noticed that the stem of the flower rotted from the middle. Realizing that I cannot keep it this way, on my way back from school, I finally bought a flower pot…
But whe I got home, I couldn’t find my plant. There was no plant, no buds, and no vase in which it stood. Usually the first thought that comes to mind is the right one. After all, my mother had long ago told me to plant a flower plant. But, seeing my slowness, she had the idea of doing “something” with it.
– Mommy, where is my flower plant? – I asked my mother, trying to stay calm.
– Plant or vase? – Mommy asked.
– What, are they standing alone?
– Yes. Your plant has rotted away. I threw it away. And I washed the vase. It’s over there.
My mother spoke simply and clearly. And I froze in place, holding a new flower pot, unable to find the words.
– Mom, where did you throw my plat? I… wanted to plant it, so I bought a pot…
– Daughter, the plant was in the water for a month. It turned yellow, but you never planted it. Now, even if you do plant it, it can’t grow anymore.
Said my mother, looking at the flowerpot I was holding.
– It would grow! – I exclaimed, still not knowing who or what to be mad at. – And it could have bloomed. After all, it had buds!
– Honey, everything has its time. A plant doesn’t grow in water, it grows in the ground. Well, don’t worry, I’ll buy you another plant. There are lots of flower plants in the market.
– Mommy, this plant is not on sale … And I do not need another… – I barely made it out.
At that momet, it reminded me of my friend. Tomorrow she’s coming to visit us. And I bragged to her that my plant was growing well and already blooming.
A lot of time has passed since then. Sometimes my friend and I remember it with a laugh. I can’t forget that incident, though. The fate of some people and the events that happened around me remind me of that flower plant. I keep remembering the thin branch that stood for a long time in a large graceful vase filled with sweetened water and released its buds. It struggled for life for a long time, but died because I did not plant it in the right place in time!
Eh, there are such “flower plants” among humans, too, who are not planted in their proper place in time. Even I am still tormented with conscience for having ruined that flower plant. And how do those who “kill” people live?
Translated by Shajil Anthuri