The Bloody Veil. Abdurashid Nurmuradov. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Abdurashid Nurmuradov
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Год издания: 2024
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happened, it passed, – he breathed hard. After a long pause he said:

      – A month ago I received a letter from Vahidjan. He exploded on a mine and now he is in hospital. I couldn’t tell to mom, and you didn’t dare to tell. I read the word “exploded” and it was like a cliff in my heart. The head went round, the pressure rose. After that, I do not feel the letter of life in me. What it is to explode, I have experienced on myself, son. It is impossible to come to him. How, I do not know. – My father’s voice changed. He was crying. I felt like the earth was falling from under my feet. The head swings. "Exploded, exploded" thousands of times the voice of the father sounds in my ears.

      Something burning rose from the inside and approached the throat. Tears flowed on my cheeks, not obeying my will. My sister turned to me:

      – Mommy, Mommy, – she whispered, stroked my face. Then she hugged me tightly behind my neck and, as if on my mother’s chest, fell asleep with a strong, peaceful sleep. I could only hear her quiet breath.

      And before my eyes was a brother standing in the train, with sad, anxious eyes. And I could not at that moment find the strength to ask my father in more detail how it all happened. As if he wanted to keep his brother in memory as he had.

      Man has such a condition. You don’t want to live, but you live. You don’t want to breathe, but you breathe. You don’t want to see anyone, but you see. You get used to everything. Must be!

      I tightly pressed my sweet sister to my heart, as if I was seeking refuge in her fragile, pure soul. And she, as if wishing to calm me, rubbed her cheek on my cheek, quietly standing. But the words of the father "exploded, exploded" still sounded in my ears, rushing into me from all sides, burned my heart."My brother, my dear, dear brother; what have they done to you, how are you now?”

      The soul is devastated. As if something was broken inside. I can’t even imagine how my father lived this month. How was he…

      I had a dream at night. My mother was in white clothes, holding bread in her hand:

      – You and your father are deceiving me. Where did you hide Vahidjan? I’ll give him at least the bread he left behind, – she said, stretching a slice to me. I was awake. The sister was sitting on the bed and staring at me.

      – Sleep, sleep, my sweetheart, – I said quietly, hugging her by the shoulders. Turning her head, she laid her head on my chest and fell asleep. It was down. A pale light broke through the dusty windows. The light filled the room.

      Carefully, not to wake up my sister, I released my shoulder, laid the girl on the pillow and went out. A cold morning wind was blowing. Never flying beyond the threshold of my house, my thoughts are now far away. Everything was not nice, everything around me lost its meaning in my eyes. Even the magnificent mansion of the director of the state farm, which proudly stood before me, now seemed to me to have collapsed, lost its majesty. With a mixed sense of embarrassment and amazement, I looked at the marble facade of this house, the brilliant new "Volga" in front of it. Having a house and car was the limit of my dreams. Not only mine, but everyone around me. Now, in the face of the impending trouble, these values somehow immediately dimmed, lost their significance. I don’t know how long I stood on the threshold. I woke up when I felt my father’s touch. In his hand he held a knot. My distracted face worried him:

      – Son, take yourself in your hands. I am already old.

      You will remain the head of your brothers and sisters. Here is a letter from Vahidjan. Write him a more pleasant answer to raise his spirit. I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried, – he said and handed me a letter. – I will go to your mom. You will be alone, – he added and went out on the road. He walked heavily, slowly, tired, heading his head, as if he was searching for his once lost happiness on this dusty canyon road.

      I was left with the letter in my hand, exhausted from reading, not finding the strength to uncover it, to find out where my brother was wounded. I stood unconsciously at the threshold. Someone pulled me by the sleeve. There was a sister next door. In her eyes was a childish anxious. I bowed and took her on my hands. The girl hugged me tightly and grabbed my cheek. She lacked the warmth and care of her mother.

      We entered the house. I put her carefully, and she fell asleep again. My relatives were sleeping. And I was sitting next to them with a dying heart, looking at the letter. My patience has finally ended. Every word of grief entered my heart. I will never forget these simple and terrible lines.

      "Hi, Dad! Your letter was read to me by my friend Samad. You wrote to the commander that I forgot you and didn’t write for four months. You asked him to punish me.

      Father, forgive me for not being able to send you a message for so long. I was in the hospital without consciousness. Now I feel better, but I had to ask Samad to write a letter. Doctors say one eye can see. My hands were also shaken by the explosion of the mine.

      Father forgive me. I feel how much damage I have done to you by writing the whole truth. How to? You are my father. You survived the war and shed blood, returned from the front crippled. Our fate is same, so I decided to tell you about my condition. Do not speak home. My mother did not survive.

      How does she feel? I see her in my dreams every day. All in white clothes she approaches and sits next to me and, without saying a word, looks in my eyes for a long time. Tell me about her health. Mom, mom, from how many bad thoughts she saved me here.

      Dad, do not burn up. Fate seems to be like that. You will not leave it. People like me are a lot here. The boys died no less. I’m not going to get out of the hospital soon. If I had been blind from birth, I have been so offended. It is hard to lose the white light in the night alone and plunge into the darkness. It is very difficult…

      Goodbye, Dad. Say hello to my mother and brothers. Let Rashid-aka write me a letter in his free time.

      Abduvahid.

      September 13, 1982

      My heart cried. And the younger brothers, not knowing anything, slept peacefully.

      I sat for a long time like this. Thousands of thoughts revolved in my head. I cursed those who taught my brother. I powerlessly squeezed my fists, ready to break them into pieces. When my gaze fell on my sister, her hands were stretching up on their own, and I smoothed her confused hair. It seemed that her little face, her hair, her bracelets rejuvenated in my dark heart tenderness, love for family, for people. I felt like I was born again. Small care and worries gradually left me, giving way to those that were now the main ones.

      Three days later my father came back. In his hands was knot with belongings of mother. Taking breath, he looked at us sadly, breathed hard. Gulnoz quietly clung to him. We were all looking forward to my father’s words.

      – The mother greeted you all. She will recover soon and come. She asked to transmit that they would not joke and live together before her return, – finally, he said, glossing the hair of Gulnoz. As if only waiting for these few words, the younger brothers calmed down and stood up. Children cannot live in anxiety for a long time. There were my father, I and my sister. Gulnoz, rubbing her father’s beard, asked:

      – Mommy has gone far?

      The wrinkles on my father’s face became even deeper. The cheeks struck, and he, trying to cope with the trembling voice, said:

      – Yes, she went far away. She will come, my daughter, your mother will come. I was upset by my father’s mood:

      – Diagnosis is determined?

      – Yes, my son. It seems to be a long time. Did you write a letter to your brother?

      – I wrote.

      Here is the whole conversation.

      But I felt that my father was not agreeing. By nature, he is a determined man, not a talkative. I never put my concerns on other people’s shoulders. I had to wait for him to say something.

      My father suffered from insomnia. At night he wandered around the house, and during the day he went to the camouflage and only rotated in the dark. This lasted a week. Then he crowd together and in the morning twilight he set feet on the path.

      – I