Здравствуйте. Меня зовут Сухайло. Мне 26 лет. По профессию я врач — гинеколог. Работаю в Шугнанской районной поликлинике. Зарплата у нас небольшая, зато я люблю свою профессию. Я выросла в творческой семье. Мой отец прозаик Довут Сулаймонов — автор многочисленных статей и автобиографической книги » Письмо Богу». Именно он прививал мне любовь к литературе. В 2016 году я участвовала в конкурсе » Литературное произведение». К счастью, я дошла до финала, и мое имя был включен в шорт- листе. Это было огромное счастье для меня и моей семьи. Я живу на Памире. Природа у нас самая красивая на планете. Это не мои выдумки, потому что так говорят все туристы, посетившие наши края. Мирно и в согласии друг с другом живут у нас мусульмане — исмаилиты и сунниты. Мне кажется это самое большое благо, когда нет вражды и раздора между людьми, и ещё когда люди много читают и свободно разговаривают на русском и английском. Вот такой наш горный Памир и его жители.
Hello. My name is Sukhaylo. I am 26 years old. By profession I am a gynecologist. I work in Shugnan regional polyclinic. We have a small salary, but I love my profession. I grew up in a creative family. My father is a writer, Dovut Sulaimonov, the author of numerous articles and an autobiographical book, «Letter for God.» He instilled in me a love of literature. In 2016 I participated in the konkurs «Literary Work». Fortunately, I reached the final, and my name was included in the shortlist. It was a great happiness for me and my family. I live in the Pamir. Nature is the most beautiful on the planet. This is not my invention, but all the tourists who visited our region say it. Peacefully and in harmony live with each other Muslims — Ismailis and Sunnis. I think this is the greatest thing, when there is no enmity and discord between people, and even people read a lot and are fluent in Russian and English. That is what our mountain Pamir and its inhabitants.
Ношукри (Noshukri)
Ingratitude
Short Story
Don’t get upset, if you gave a birth to a girl,
As happiness is related to a girl.
Today, Badriddin woke up before his old father, just at the time, when the pleasing and gentle voice of mullah in village Sabziharv (where Tajik residents worship 12 imams) was inviting males and young men to pray in a mosque. He calmly coughed, knocked the door of the charcoal’s storing place and said with a low voice in a questioning manner: — Sahib shall we go to the mosque? – Why not? – I will come now my son, I’ll come just in a minute…
Starting from last year’s autumn since today an old man — Obidshoh was ill and an old woman – Mohinav took care of him. His old wife at this moment was feeding him with flour porridge and chicken soup and made him to visit mosque, but if she casually any day in goes for visiting parturient woman or any other place, and left an old man with his two daughters-in-law that day his pressure inevitably got high and started to moan and groan a lot. An old woman – Mohinav carried a necked jug full of warm water to a toilet and went to prepare a tea. An old man rolled up one’s sleeves and began to commit an ablution. He was praying to himself and at the same time all his thoughts and prayers were about his beloved son Badriddin, but at once he consoled himself and said indistinctly: “Hope on God, that everything will be ok. I should tell an old woman, that she must move to attics with our two daughters-in-law. It is shady and cool place out there at nighttime. Despite the fact that this year the spring was cold and rainy, the last week is going to be warm. A woman finds a common language with a woman. Badriddin’s sister-in-law – Orostamoh must take them under the wing. Moreover, both bedroom and Nuriddin’s kids’ rooms are big and comfortable. I need to tell Nuriddin that after all the stuff with a cabin he’ll need to plough the dry crop land, which is behind the mountain pass of Gardanga and pick some buckwheat, ferrule and mushrooms. Notwithstanding to the fact that six daughters of Badriddin are from Kabul, nevertheless they notice a little bit the taste of Sabzikharv’s buckwheat and mushrooms. Two days ago little cockered Shakilo and Suhaylo have fought for rhubarb in front of the foreign guests. They burst into tears so much that Badriddin felt very klutzy because of his daughters’ behavior. The French guest passed Shakilo a sweet pastille and his wife took out of her pocket a crisped tucker and gave it to Suhaylo. But they didn’t even put a glance at tucker and sweet pastille; they were rubberring just at rhubarbs and buckwheats, which were on a table cloth. – They are town-dwellers, town-dwellers…, they saw a lot of goodies, but saw just a little of edible greens. Badriddin and Malolay lived in clover with their six daughters in Kabul. Girls’ father had a leading occupation at ministry during the period of Najibullo’s democratic governance, but during mujohids’ reign he lost his job and as his unemployed colleague sahib Samangoni said, he became “depreciated just like a plane tree”. Badriddin went to every single office and institution without any money and was leaving those places in disappointment, without any results. Only after the time, when peace was reigning in a country and ministries started their work, “work was divided among the workers”. His comrade and friend Samangoni found a job at one of the French offices at Bomiyon. After one month Samangoni invited Badriddin to Bomiyon. Starting from the first day of his work Badriddin found a way to the heart of international organization’s chairman – sahib Michelle through his honest labor and knowledge of English language. After half a year this foreign institution began its activity in Sabziharv and Badriddin became a chairman of this institution. Within one month Badriddin doesn’t eat and sleep well, during this period thousands of farmers get wheat and potato seeds, mineral fertilizers and effective sprouts from his institution for free or almost free and blessed the head of agriculture department Badriddini Obid with kind prayers.
One month ago his wife and daughters moved from Kabul to Sabziharv. Nuriddin, Obidshoh younger son brought his children and sister-in-law from Kabul town to Roghiston by “mutar” – passenger car, and then two whole weeks he took them to village on horseback, on donkeys and by foot, so they were in difficulty toil.
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