At night, you shone like stars that brightly glide,
Your love — my strength, my soul’s most precious right.
You taught me patience with each passing day,
And bore life’s burdens with unshaken grace.
Within your eyes, I found my secret place —
I’ll never forget your love’s endless ray.
When the world pressed hard upon my soul,
You opened your arms, absorbing my pain.
Though you were burning, you’d never let it show —
For me, you lived, enduring in silence again.
Oh Mother, no words could ever define,
Your love — a river that knows no end.
In my life and soul, you eternally shine,
The only true light my heart can send.
Without you, what’s left in this heart of mine?
Cold nights would burn it with silent cries.
In every storm, your prayer is enough —
Your every word, a star in my skies.
The older I grew, the more I could see:
Each breath you took was a silent sacrifice.
If now I shine like a star in the sky,
Know — my light is just your love in disguise.
Life’s trials were sharp as a sword’s cruel blade,
But you walked beside me like a gentle shade.
In heavy moments, you carried hope’s flame,
Never once saying, “Poor me,” — never in shame.
Now I stand as someone my homeland needs,
Your lessons — the foundation of my soul.
Each of my triumphs, each noble deed,
Is a gift to you, who made me whole.
You are my quiet muse in every day,
The light of truth shines deep in your gaze.
Even in dreams, may you still softly pray —
With you, life blossoms in beautiful ways.
Though fate may pave my path with stone,
The strength I bear is from your heart alone.
In my soul lives a word beyond compare —
Each work I begin starts with “Mother” there.
Turayeva Sadoqat Kahramonovna was born on March 26, 2005 in Gurlan district, Khorezm region. After graduating from school No. 23 in Gurlan district, she studied at the Academic Lyceum of Urgench State University between 2021 and 2023. Currently, she is a 2nd year student at the Faculty of Philology and Arts of Urgench State University named after Abu Rayhon Beruni.
(Young Central Asian woman in a black coat with buttons on the sleeves and a white frilly blouse, seated in a cafeteria with yellow chairs).
A NEW DAY
Dewdrops dance on leaves, in gardens nestled so deep, Softly drifting, clouds above sing lullabies in sleep. Like the scent of a tulip, sorrow lifts from the soul, While grandmas pray for peace and health, making the people whole.
Grass blades greet us warmly, heads risen in delight, Listening to the cranes returning, crying through their flight. In emerald green that charms the eyes, they reach toward the skies, Sunlight glimmers on each bud like gold in children’s eyes.
Some have lived to see these days, and some have not, it’s true, But spring still whispers words of joy that gently pass on through. From parents’ heartfelt blessings bloom joy and inner grace, And on the sky of fate we see youth’s star take its place.
With spring anew, a brand new day, forget the shadows past, Let pure intentions simmer like sumalak in the pot at last. Let kites that soar in skyward flight sweep grief from every heart, And let us share the blooms of love, together, never apart.
Welcome back, O Spring, to my land! You’ve brought such dazzling cheer, For the sixteenth time I face you, smiling with eyes so clear. How many times we’ll meet again, I do not truly know, But angels built a palace in my soul for you to glow.
Gulmira Ravshonbekova, daughter of Ruslonbek,was born on August 29, 2005, in Khiva city, Khorezm region.Currently, she is a second-year student at Urgench State University named after Abu Rayhan Beruni. She is a recipient of the “Ogahiy Scholarship” and the “Governor’s Scholarship”. Her first collection of poetry and prose, titled “Love for Enchanting Words”, has been published.She is a winner of several international, national, and regional Olympiads and competitions. Gulmira is also a member and certificate holder of the “Kyrgyz Poets and Writers Fund” of the Kyrgyz Republic. Additionally, she represents Uzbekistan in the international organization “National Human Rights and Humanitary Federation”.Her academic and literary works have been published in journals and anthologies in countries such as Germany, the USA, Turkey, Canada, India, Poland, and others.
First of all, we’re sharing the new project of young leader Muslima Olimova. The online platform Muslima Academy is a secular youth-led educational initiative empowering students with digital skills, international opportunities, and career readiness. More information here.
Disabled contributor, lyric essayist, and ALS activist Katrina Byrd suffered hurricane damage to her home and seeks support to rebuild and make ends meet while she’s getting ready to move. Whatever folks can contribute will make a real difference.
South African poet and essayist Abigail George, whom we’ve published many times, shares the fundraiser her book’s press has created for her. She’s seeking contributions for office supplies and resources to be able to serve as a speaker and advocate for others who have experienced trauma or deal with mental health issues.
Also, the Educational Bookshop in Jerusalem, a store that has the mission of peaceful dialogue and education, invites readers to donate new or gently used books (all genres) that have been meaningful to them, with a note enclosed for future readers about why the books were meaningful. (The books don’t have to be about peace or social justice or the Mideast, although they can be). Please send books here. US-based Interlink Publishing has also started a GoFundMe for the store.
Next, we have a group of young early-career UC Davis academics who hope to attend an important conference in the field of climate science, but need to privately raise cash to replace grant funds that were removed due to changing conditions in the U.S. They’ve been hosting bake sales to make up the difference.
We’re spreading the word about Claire Jones and Amaranthia Sepia and their work through Sista Creatives Rising, creating accessible virtual shows, spotlighting and giving small grants to women of color to pursue their creative dreams. They’ll host a new show this fall, tickets will be available soon, and are inviting people to donate to celebrate Juneteenth! Any donations we receive will help us support our team, speakers and tech needs such as Adobe, Xfinity Emergency Storm Wi-Fi, editing & captioning apps, accessibility support, and more!
Also, we encourage people to consider supporting the Sun Gallery, which is one of the venues hosting the Hayward (California) Lit Hop festival, co-sponsored each year by Synchronized Chaos Magazine. They’re struggling due to the loss of some important grants and facing possible closure, and we would like to give back to the places that have supported us.
Finally, we’re helping out one of the founders of the Secret Spot,a grassroots performance and visual arts collective launched by low-income artists early in their careers. The Secret Spot is temporarily taking a break while she recovers from injuries sustained in a car accident.
Now, for July’s first issue: Hold This World Loosely. These words of St. Paul from two millennia ago remind us that while there is much to embrace in the world, all is impermanent and we can only protect ourselves from suffering by holding on with a loose grasp. However, this flexibility also frees us to appreciate and create positive change.
Eva Petropoulou Lianou describes the freedom found in holding onto life with a loose hand. Yucheng Tao crafts poetry of fleeting moments, consciousness, grief, and beauty. Dustin Pickering expresses his desire to float away with his love, even down to shadows and the abyss. Jason Ryberg’s poetry evokes dreams, memory, and timelessness. Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa writes of gales of wind and emotion and the cultural wisdom embedded in a Native American dream catcher. Graciela Noemi Villaverde writes elegantly of a summer train adventure and the need to let go of some of the past to embrace the future.
Welcoming personal and societal change and growth can be a positive thing. Qobulova Gulzoda honors the forward-thinking Jadid leaders in Uzbekistan’s heritage who promoted education, science, and literacy. Gulshoda Jorabekovna Baxtiyorova offers up patriotic praise for Uzbekistan’s current presidential administration and its efforts to promote education, science, women’s rights, and athletics. Xoliqulova Husniabonu reflects on the bravery and dedication of her nation’s historical heroes. Priyanka Neogi urges people to achieve personal greatness by working hard to develop their talents and growing in their character and respect for others.
As an example of scientific research, Davlatyorova Iqbol outlines the medical causes of and treatments for hyperglycemia. Anorov Sirojiddin outlines approaches to treating urological diseases. Turning to the arts, Federico Wardal points out two films, flautist Andrea Ceccomori’s “Anita” and Joe Mantegna’s “Kamilah the Miracle Filly,” which have crossed national borders to be featured in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Italy.
Oyatillo Jabboraliev highlights the value of student exchange programs for helping young people learn life skills as well as cultural literacy. Mamatova Diyora explores ways to help students stay motivated to learn foreign languages they don’t frequently hear. Munisa Asimova reflects on the work of a caring teacher who helped her achieve her writing dreams, and Sobirjonova Rayhona also offers up a poetic tribute to a dedicated teacher. Rakhmonova Diyorakhon discusses the importance of experiential and participatory education for young people. Muslima Olimova announces the launch of her online startup which aims to help young people around the world learn the skills that will prepare them for work and also outlines the advantages of different backend programming languages.
Ibodullayeva Dilnura analyzes the effects of combining online and in-person education. Surayo Nosirova relates her experience with an environmental education project involving young people in solving today’s challenges. Odina Bahodirova highlights the role of environmental education in promoting future sustainability.
Rushana Raupova celebrates the wonder and joy children can bring to the world and her dedication to benefiting them with her life. Aytuvova Khurshida outlines the importance of integrating the latest psychology findings into children’s education.
Mario Loprete renders urban style into the gallery with concrete tributes to rap and culture. Sabina G’iyosiddinova builds upon and expands traditional Uzbek art styles in her abstract work.
Dr. Jernail S. Anand suggests a positive role for artificial intelligence in enhancing human life and promoting pro-social behavior. Tursunova Ismigul suggests strategies, including technology-based platforms, to improve access to healthcare in rural communities.
Speaking of traditional rural villages, Manik Chakraborty revels in gentle, sunny village life. Holding onto the world with a light touch does not mean giving up one’s love for one’s world, heritage or past. Maftuna Rustamova honors the creative legacy of Uzbek poet Zulfiya Khanim. Dilnura Khahhorova affirms the importance of celebrating the traditional culture of Uzbekistan while Bektosh Kenjayev honors the self-sacrificing military heroism of historical tribal leader Shiroq. Iskandarova Dilnoza affirms her Uzbek history and culture in poetry. Mickey Corrigan reflects on the complex and intriguing life of James Bond actor Ian Fleming. John Dorsey speaks in his poetry to American culture, memory, and reflection.
David Sapp expresses thoughtful wonderment and fascination for art and the natural world. Irma Kurti speaks to excitement, love, grief, the sky’s various moods, and summer breezes. John Thomas Allen offers a mystical ode to the esoteric arts. Alan Catlin probes the uncanny side of nature in his surreal poems. Joseph Ogbonna describes a road trip where tension among fellow travelers arose, then dissipated as everyone explored the calm and quiet Nigerian countryside. Saiprakash Kuntamukkala listens to an elegant rainfall. Mahbub Alam reflects on patience and how nature blooms on its own timescale. Christina Chin and Jerome Berglund exchange tan-renga lines about mowing the lawn, ants crawling, film noir, and many other topics.
Mary Bone remembers outdoor winter celebrations with friends and family. Brian Barbeito reflects on escaping a garish urban landscape by taking refuge by the sea. Don Bormon speaks to the vast natural renewal each year after the monsoon rains.
Sometimes remembrance is tinged with sorrow. Poet Hassane Ajbouh carries forth an ecstatic spiritual love through writing of his departed beloved. Mesfakus Salahin’s poetry evokes the pain of separation from a loved one amid the hot monsoon rains. Duane Vorhees writes figuratively, yet sensually, of romantic pairings of opposites and of people left longing or bereft after someone leaves. Greg Hill sends up images of fall, loss, and departure, contrasted with a lively preteen sleepover.
Paul Murgatroyd evokes death, decay, and the persistent memory of youth. J.J. Campbell speaks to aging, disillusionment, loneliness, frustration, and despair. Taylor Dibbert’s narrator reflects on the long shadow of his beloved dog’s memory. Leslie Lisbona mourns a friendship of many years that went awry after her friend’s move and some off-base comments. Mirta Liliana Ramirez remembers a person she lost by the sea they both loved. Stephanie Elendu’s short story presents three different characters grieving the deaths of school children in a Nigerian truck accident from three different perspectives.
Mykyta Ryzhykh speaks to love, physical passion, death, the extreme trauma of wartime, and the psychological violence of having to hide a big part of himself. Palestinian poet Ahmed Miqdad looks to death as a release from the extreme suffering he sees in Gaza and Eva Petropoulou Lianou interviews himabout his writing and his hopes for peace and human rights in the region. Abdulrasheed Yakubu Ladan also speaks to the human suffering in Gaza and the people’s determination to survive. Patricia Doyne lampoons Donald Trump and the state of American politics and the possibility of war. Noah Berlatsky grieves the loss of a loved one to social violence at the hands of laws and lawmakers who said they didn’t belong, reminding us of the human cost of policies.
Yuldasheva Oyshakhon reminds us to cherish our parents while we have them. Bill Tope remembers the unspoken rejection he felt after losing his father. Maja Milojkovic recollects the ways her deceased father made an impact on her life. Dan Flore writes of the lingering effects of divorce on now-adult children. Abigail George reflects on her loneliness and depression when her own mother forgot her birthday, and how she found comfort from looking to writers and the human experience.
Sayani Mukherjee speaks to feeling part of nature’s family, one of the plethora of creatures in a continually changing universe. Mohidil Sultanova evokes the joy, wonder, and community of a vibrant Uzbek street market, where she can feel the pulse of humanity interacting. Mahmudova Sevara uses cuisine as a lens to explore points of intersection between Uzbek and Korean culture. Bazarbaeva Inabat analyzes business connections between Thailand’s media and tourism industries.
Images c/o Mohidil Sultanova
Several students cover themes of cultural exchange within the field of linguistics. Hafizullayeva Kamolaxon outlines the influence of Turkish on the Uzbek language. Nigora Abdurazzakova explores cognitive development in children bilingual in Russian and Uzbek. Tojimurodova Latofat discusses ways to help speakers of Russian, Uzbek, and English remember words. Aliasqarova Muslima discusses attitudes towards regional and country dialects in the Uzbek language. Baxtiyorova Feruza’s essay deals with the role of common nouns and verbs in Uzbek and English speech. Berdiyorova Nargiza compares idiomatic expressions in English and Uzbek. Jo’rayeva Aziza explores multimodal teaching methodologies for Uzbek as a foreign language. Odilova Diyora looks into how translation strategies impact the interpretation of culturally specific terms in Uzbek. Sa’dullayeva Dilshoda highlights the role of language preservation in claiming and reclaiming culture and identity. Nasirova Xurshedabonu looks into ways to help students gain confidence in speaking foreign languages.
Sometimes we experience life as if it’s been mistranslated, as if we aren’t sure exactly what’s happening and what to make of our circumstances and senses. Mark Young writes of off-kilter scenes from daily life, observed from a distance. Iduoze Abdulhafiz escorts us through a holographic world of surreal prose. Yongbo Ma recollects a hazy dream about attempting to repair a muddy road, then adding to the confusion.
Christopher Bernard reflects on what it means to age when one never quite fit with one’s own generation.
Ben Nardolilli explores possibility and reality, human minds and our role in the universe, and suggests that we belong here. Wansoo Kim urges us to pull out of selfishness and despair and follow our consciences as guides. Nasir Aijaz perseveres in his life despite society’s many ills. Jasmina Ergasheva expresses resilience and hope for her future. Murodillayeva Mohinur reflects on her determination to rise towards her dreams even amidst obstacles.
Vo Thi Nhu Mai contributes a gentle, tender love story where a young man finally gets up the courage to embrace his first beloved. Isaac Aju crafts a hopeful, second-chance romance. Sushant Thapa’s piece celebrates friendship and art’s power to encourage the soul.
Peter Cherches contributes a humorous poem making a bold claim to its own existence. Svetlana Rostova highlights the power of words and ventures to rewrite her own story. We hope that this issue inspires and frees you to do the same in your own words and media.
Arrival Before the Rose Dream Ends (previously published by Wild Court）
He says he’ll arrive in Portland tomorrow. It’s his turn to pay — In the silence before the restaurant opens, he arrives early.
A self-serve hot pot, steam rising to fend off winter. The union of dead volcanoes and roses, perfect in his mind — a scene from an Italian art film, woven into the hum of lobby music.
A couple pick their ingredients. A spoon stirs the sauce, like jam stirred by love.
As dusk settles, the girl arrives and whispers something behind him. He answers, “It’s nothing.” He pays the bill this time and next time.
Months later, in a dream, the dead volcano erupts, swallowing the roses, swallowing his life.
The next morning, the news reports — a young man in a Portland apartment, kissed by death.
He lies on a bed of roses, silent as a dead volcano.
Confessions of Death（Previously published in Apocalypse Confidential）
I am a wealthy writer from a noble Kyoto family. In Japan, my fans call me: Swan.
I remember when pale moonlight illuminates the ashen stone. A woman drapes herself in a white kimono, adorned with strutting cranes and blooming pink sakura, gazing deeply at my figure.
She is my wife, an elegant swan too, who carries the spirit of Bushido.
I do not long to embrace death; I only wish to spread my wings and self-destruct beautifully, for redemption.
My consciousness submerges in the weight of original sin, rolling alone.
My family owns a villa during wartime, where cherry blossoms bloom in abundance. How shameful this is to the impoverished. Only death offers peace.
I want to cast my weightless body into the surging ocean together with her. I say, “As a mortal, I am so sorry. I do not deserve to be happy.”
Two swans step into the water, forsaking this ridiculous family. In the moment of fading, death is liberation.
A moment of silence, my heart at peace, with oceanic waves.
Within this vast wheel of destiny, I surrender to the hush of infinity.
We long for peace, and in the crushing of the great wheel, only the moment of suffocation beneath the water brings forth a profound and joyful illusion:
The setting sun, spring snow, floating chrysanthemums in my first chapter of life.
We die for the suffering, but for whom do the living live? We destroy ourselves for our own expectations, but who remembers the dead?
At last, we smile at death, at nothingness. Death becomes our final sanctuary, a respite from a world reeking of greed.
Like two delicate leaves, we softly fall into the ocean. Through the moon’s shadow, flowers’ darkened faces resemble death.
Interview with Yucheng Tao
You’re also a songwriter and a music student. Do you think your musical interests and knowledge inspire your poetry, or vice versa? Do you imagine your poems set to music?
Music’s rhythm gives me inspiration for the basic feelings in my poems. They feel like twin flames to me. I prefer to make independent work for my poetry and for my instrumental guitar music. I have had a lot of my instrumental work published by other magazines.
Since you’re an international student from China, is Mandarin your first language? What is the process like crafting poetry in a language other than your native language? Do you come up with a concept and structure in Mandarin first and then translate, or do you think purely in English for your poetry?
Yes, Mandarin is my first language. At the beginning, I tried very hard to write purely in English. Over time, it became more natural—but sometimes, inspiration still comes to me in fragments of Chinese. When that happens, I’ll translate or transform those images into English. Other times, the ideas arrive already in English. I think I now live between the two languages, and my poetry is shaped by both.
I notice a theme of death in your work, our complex relationship with the inevitability of death. Why and how do you think you’re drawn to write about death?
When I write about death, I’m really writing about consciousness, time, grief, and the fragility of perception. Life is destined to vanish in the cruel cycle of the seasons, so I feel a need to record my reflections on death—and everything bright that will one day be drowned: existence itself, which can be anything, even a voice within.
In the two pieces you sent for our July issue, your protagonists had the chance to enjoy lovely things in life: delicious food, fine clothing, moonlight, wealth, romantic love, although their enjoyment was short-lived. Many poets write about beauty in various forms. What do you consider beautiful and why, and what sorts of beauty are you drawn to in poetry?
I think beauty sometimes comes from fleeting moments—when I touch snow, rain, wind, or when the silent gods arrive with the night. My poems often explore the uncertainty of beauty, because everything can be beautiful in its own way.
How would you describe your poetic style, and has it changed over the years as you developed your craft?
My poetic style moves through darkness across beauty—and something beyond. Every day, I try to change something in my work: the technique, the form, the voice, and the feeling of the unknown.
What poets, or kinds of poetry inspire you? Do you consider your work part of any poetic tradition?
I love The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot, and I’m also drawn to Eastern forms that emphasize imagery, like haiku. Baudelaire, Akhmatova, and even the poetic language in Nabokov’s novels have all influenced me. I don’t often think in terms of tradition—I just read what I love, and follow where those poems lead me.
What are you working on now in your writing? What are your next steps?
I’m currently working on a series of poems centered around a character called the Skull-God—a light sci-fi exploration of human nature and emotion. I’ve written about five pieces so far and plan to continue expanding the series. Eventually, I hope to create a mini chapbook, somewhere between 12 to 20 pages.
Yucheng Tao’s poetry and fiction have appeared in a range of literary journals across the US, UK, and internationally. His recent work has been published by Wild Court (King’s College London), Cathexis Northwest Press, The Lake(UK), NonBinary Review (where he was also interviewed), and Red Ogre Review(UK). His writing has also featured in Waymark Literary Magazine, Apocalypse Confidential, The Arcanist, and others. He was named a semifinalist for the Winds of Asia Award by Kinsman Quarterly.
Everyday Language: Comparing Common Expressions in English and Uzbek
Berdiyorova Nargiza Mirsamad qizi
Uzbekistan State World Languages University
English First Faculty
Abstract: This article explores the use of everyday language expressions in English and Uzbek, focusing on their linguistic form, pragmatic function, and sociocultural significance. Through a comparative lens, it examines greetings, expressions of gratitude, apologies, everyday questions, and farewells in both languages. While English tends toward brevity and directness, Uzbek emphasizes social etiquette, respect, and relationship-building through more elaborate and culturally embedded expressions. The analysis draws attention to the interplay between language and culture in daily communication and highlights the importance of cultural competence in effective cross-cultural interaction.
Keywords: Common expressions; pragmatics; cross-cultural communication; Uzbek language; English language; politeness strategies; everyday language; linguistic comparison; sociolinguistics; cultural norms
Everyday language reflects not only the communicative functions of speech, but also the worldview, cultural background, and social values of a particular linguistic community. Common expressions—such as greetings, farewells, forms of gratitude, apologies, and basic conversational phrases—serve as key indicators of pragmatics in any language. In both English and Uzbek, such expressions function as essential tools for social interaction, yet they demonstrate distinct cultural and linguistic patterns. This paper presents a comparative analysis of everyday expressions in English and Uzbek, focusing on how language encodes politeness, social hierarchy, emotional tone, and context-specific variation.
In English, greetings are generally neutral in tone and highly standardized. Phrases such as “Hello,” “Hi,” and “Good morning” are commonly used across different social groups and are largely unaffected by age or social hierarchy. These expressions are concise and functionally effective. Time-based greetings such as “Good afternoon” or “Good evening” provide temporal context, and are especially common in formal settings.
In contrast, Uzbek greetings are deeply rooted in social norms and often reflect hierarchical relationships. The phrase “Assalomu alaykum” is widely used and carries religious and cultural connotations, originating from Arabic. It is typically responded to with “Va alaykum assalom,” reinforcing mutual respect. Furthermore, Uzbek greetings vary depending on age, familiarity, and context. For example, younger speakers are expected to initiate greetings and use respectful titles such as “aka” (older brother), “opa” (older sister), or “ustoz” (teacher).
Unlike English, where greetings can be brief and informal, Uzbek speakers often engage in extended greeting rituals that include inquiries about health, family, and well-being, such as “Yaxshimisiz?”, “Qalaysiz?”, or “Tinchlikmi?” These expressions indicate concern and build social rapport.
In English, the most common ways to express gratitude include “Thank you,” “Thanks,” and “Thanks a lot.” These expressions are generally used in both formal and informal situations. Politeness strategies in English often involve tone and intonation, as well as the addition of modifiers such as “very much” or “indeed” for emphasis.
Uzbek expressions of gratitude also range from neutral to emphatic. The word “Rahmat” is most commonly used in daily interaction, while “Katta rahmat” (great thanks) and “Yuragingizdan joy bersin” (may your heart be rewarded) reflect higher levels of appreciation and cultural richness. Additionally, the Uzbek language frequently includes socially oriented responses to gratitude, such as “Arzimaydi” (it’s nothing) or “Hech narsa emas” (not at all), emphasizing humility and reciprocity.
This contrasts with English, where responses to gratitude are usually simple—“You’re welcome,” “No problem,” or “Anytime.” In Uzbek, the social act of thanking and responding is more ceremonious, often accompanied by body language such as hand gestures or slight bows.
Apologizing in English often involves the use of phrases such as “Sorry,” “I’m sorry,” or “I apologize.” These expressions are typically used to acknowledge a mistake, express sympathy, or respond to unintentional harm. Depending on the severity of the situation, English speakers may strengthen the apology with additions like “I’m terribly sorry” or “Please accept my apologies.”
In Uzbek, apologies are expressed through words like “Kechirasiz,” “Uzr so‘rayman,” or “Kechirib qo‘ying.” These phrases are chosen carefully depending on the speaker’s relationship to the listener. The act of apologizing in Uzbek also often requires nonverbal reinforcement—such as a hand over the heart or a slightly bowed posture—which demonstrates sincerity and respect.
Notably, the choice of expression in Uzbek can be influenced by status and age. For instance, “Uzr” might be deemed too formal among close peers but is expected in professional or elder-oriented discourse. The speech act of apology in Uzbek society is more than linguistic; it carries moral and social implications.
In English, everyday conversation is typically initiated with simple questions such as “How are you?”, “What’s your name?”, or “Where are you from?” These questions are formulaic but perform key pragmatic functions such as initiating dialogue, maintaining politeness, or showing interest.
In Uzbek, equivalent expressions include “Qalaysiz?”, “Ismingiz nima?”, and “Qayerdansiz?” However, Uzbek interactional style tends to be more relational. For example, instead of a simple “How are you?”, Uzbek speakers may ask, “Tinchlikmi?”, “Ishlaringiz qalay?”, or even inquire about one’s family and relatives, e.g., “Uyda hamma sog‘-salomatmi?” These culturally embedded questions not only fulfill a communicative purpose but also signal empathy and social solidarity.
Furthermore, the role of pronouns and polite address terms is crucial in Uzbek everyday questions. While English uses “you” universally, Uzbek distinguishes between “sen” (informal) and “siz” (formal), making the choice of pronoun socially significant.
Parting expressions in English include “Goodbye,” “See you later,” “Take care,” or “Have a nice day.” These expressions can range from formal to informal and are often quick and to the point.
In Uzbek, farewell expressions—though sometimes as succinct as their English counterparts—frequently incorporate elements of goodwill, care, and emotional resonance. Common phrases such as “Xayr” (Goodbye) and “Ko‘rishguncha” (See you) are often accompanied by additional expressions like “Omad sizga” (Good luck to you), “Yaxshi boring” (Have a safe trip), or “Omon bo‘ling” (Stay safe), particularly when addressing elders or expressing sincere parting wishes. These phrases not only convey the act of departure but also reflect deeper cultural values tied to interpersonal connection, respect, and mutual well-being. The phrase “Omon bo‘ling,” for instance, carries implicit spiritual and emotional undertones, functioning almost as a benediction.
This comparative analysis underscores that although English and Uzbek everyday expressions often serve analogous communicative purposes—such as greetings, farewells, or polite exchanges—they diverge markedly in terms of linguistic form, frequency of use, and sociocultural embeddedness. English tends to favor brevity, directness, and functional neutrality in casual conversation. In contrast, Uzbek everyday discourse is typically marked by a heightened sense of formality, affective nuance, and social ritual. These tendencies are further enriched by culturally specific metaphors, honorifics, and nonverbal cues such as gesture and tone.
For language learners, translators, and intercultural communicators, recognizing and internalizing these subtle yet meaningful differences is essential for achieving pragmatic competence. It allows for more authentic engagement and helps avoid misinterpretation or unintentional impoliteness. Ultimately, everyday language—despite its apparent simplicity—functions as a mirror of a community’s cultural values, relational norms, and collective identity. As such, its study offers valuable insight into the deeper socio-pragmatic fabric of communication across linguistic boundaries.
References
1. Brown, P., & Levinson, S. C. (1987). Politeness: Some universals in language usage. Cambridge University Press.
2. Crystal, D. (2003). The Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language (2nd ed.). Cambridge University Press
3. Yusupova, D. M. (2017). “Pragmatik ifoda vositalarining tarjima jarayonidagi lisoniy va madaniy jihatlari.” Filologiya Masalalari, 2(68), 45–49.
4. Wierzbicka, A. (2003). Cross-cultural pragmatics: The semantics of human interaction (2nd ed.). Mouton de Gruyter.
5. Karimov, A. A. (2020). “O‘zbek tilida salomlashish va xayrlashishning madaniy-ilmiy asoslari.” Til va Adabiyot, 3(103), 70–76.
6. Thomas, J. (1995). Meaning in Interaction: An Introduction to Pragmatics. Longman.
7. Turaev, B. (2019). “O‘zbek tilida minnatdorchilik va uzr so‘rash uslublari: Pragmalingvistik tahlil.” O‘zbek Tili va Adabiyoti, 5(113), 35–40.
My oldest friend, my best friend when I was growing up in Queens, now lives in Frankfurt.
The last time we saw each other, nearly a decade ago, we met for lunch at a restaurant on the corner of 39th and Madison. She had kept her childhood apartment in Kew Gardens and was back for a visit.
We grew up together, on the same floor of a building, racing in our socks down the hall between our apartments. Tall and blond, she wore clothes that no one else did and in a way that made her look unique.
Other kids picked on her for it, but for me it had the opposite effect. I wished her clothes were mine. When I took guitar lessons at our school on Saturday mornings, her dad enrolled her, too, and we shared my father’s guitar. I took up ballet, and there she was in Mildred Roger’s Dance Studio on Lefferts Boulevard, doing pliés by my side.
Her parents were European, and she was trilingual. I admired her for her sophistication, yet it was her silliness that matched my own. We made each other laugh so hard that no sound came out of our mouths. I didn’t have that with anyone else.
I don’t remember our first meeting: She was always in my life. I loved her dad’s Italian cooking; she loved the lebne and pita my mother prepared.
I was astonished by the orderliness of her home, and she thrived on the constant activity in mine. I loved how she spoke in Italian with her hands, how different she became when she spoke German. How easy she was to be with all the time.
How the more myself I was, the more she seemed to adore me. I felt such love, like we belonged with each other.
When we were older, we both found jobs in midtown Manhattan. One day I suggested we call in sick. I didn’t have to convince her: “Let’s go to Jones Beach!” she said. We ran in and out of the waves, taking pictures of each other in action, and later we sat back to back on a towel, me in a pink polka-dot Fiorucci sundress, so happy that we had this day to ourselves instead of being at our jobs.
Occasionally, we would meet for a quick lunch at the rooftop dining area of a two-story building on Third and 40th, basking in the sun, eating our sandwiches, catching up. “Can you believe we’ve known each other so long?” she would say. “I would be bonkers without you.” And I felt the same. I would return to my office feeling as if I’d had a shot of adrenaline, revived, fresh.
Time passed, and I married and had two sons; she remained single. I left Queens for the suburbs. Life was busy, and we saw each other less frequently, but I always looked forward to being with her again. I still yearned for those moments where we lost ourselves in laughter, even if it was only once or twice a year.
Just before she moved to Frankfurt, we went to see the second “Sex and the City” movie at the Ziegfeld. It was a sea of women, groups of besties, and I was glad she was mine, sitting there beside me. Over dinner at Il Circo, where she knew the owner, I gave her a present, a ring, for her 45th birthday. She had complimented mine, so I got her the same.
The stone looked like a solitary diamond, but it was fake. I watched intently, waiting for her reaction. “Oh my god, I love this!” she said, and I bounced in my shoes with excitement as she put it on. We lay our hands side by side. “This is perfect for the subway,” she said, and then she swept her bangs out of her face with her ringed hand for effect, her green eyes flashing at me.
Shortly after that, she was no longer a New Yorker.Of course I knew our friendship would change with her move to Europe. But she would have her place in Queens, and I could visit her in Germany, couldn’t I?
When I thought about it, many of my friends had moved out of the city – Michele to Mexico, Belinda to California, Christine to Seattle, Leslye to her country house upstate. I kept in touch with all of them; sometimes we became closer over the years.Up until that lunch on Madison, I hadn’t seen her for a while.
In anticipation of our meeting, I made my day free for her. I took the afternoon off from work. I arranged for my teenage boys to be picked up from school. I dressed with care, more care than usual. I made sure to wear our ring, and I twirled it around my finger.I stood outside the restaurant and saw her approaching, ever so punctual. She was walking down Madison, wearing a longish cotton striped dress and sneakers, a big bag on her shoulder, waving at me. When our eyes caught each other’s, I saw her smile, and I felt my own, so glad to see her.
Right away we fell into the old rhythm of our conversations. We laughed with little provocation and with an abandon I didn’t know was available to me anymore. In her open mouth, I saw that her tooth had become a little snaggled: a snaggletooth.
“What the heck?” I said. “I know,” she said. “I should get it fixed.” “How is your mom?” I asked. “Good.” When I asked her about her friends in Germany, she said, “Aw Les, you know you are my best friend!”“Do you ever hear from Michael?” I said.
She had dated Mike D. from the Beastie Boys for two years. “No, but I hear that he is happily married in California.”
“How’s your job?” I continued and then, before she could answer, “Oh, I just finished a book you would love: ‘The Nazi Officer’s Wife.’”“Shhhhh. Don’t say ‘Nazi,’” she said.
I didn’t understand.“It’s illegal to say it in Germany,” she explained.
“What fucked up country are you living in? Do you have any Jewish friends there, I hope?”
Not one, she told me.
And then, “There’s a great Lebanese restaurant in Frankfurt that I love.”“Do you remember when we each bought the same exact scarf from Bendel’s without knowing it?” she said. “Uncanny,” I said, and we laughed again.
After lunch she said she was heading uptown. “I’ll walk with you,” I said. I didn’t consider that she might not want me to come along.
The building next to Grand Central had been razed to the ground, and the station stood in all its glory, magnificent, like it was supposed to have looked 100 years ago. “Here,” she said, “let’s take a selfie.” And on the corner of 42nd and Madison, with the station in the background, we huddled close, trying to fit in the frame. We fumbled with the phone and the angle and getting out of people’s way.
In the end, when we finally snapped the photo, we were laughing so hard you could almost hear the picture. Maybe she hoped I would leave after that, get on a train to go home to Westchester, but that didn’t occur to me then.We walked a little more, sat on a bench in front of Barnes & Noble on Fifth and 45th. I wanted to see if they had the book about the Nazi officer’s wife.
When she said she was going to Anthropologie, there was something about her demeanor that told me I wasn’t invited. She took a cigarette from her purse and lit it. She didn’t normally smoke in front of me; it was something I knew she did in secret. But now she sat smoking brazenly, and I noticed she wasn’t wearing the ring I got her.
I said, “What are you looking for at Anthro?”
“Nothing in particular. I just have some things to do.” She stubbed her cigarette out on the pavement, beneath the twisting toe of her white sneaker, and got up to kiss me goodbye. She crossed Fifth Avenue before the light changed. I turned and headed back downtown to Grand Central to catch my train, feeling like I had a crush on a boy who wasn’t interested in me and whose cues I had misread.
I had been deliriously happy, and suddenly I wasn’t. With each step I became more and more deflated. I felt exhausted, as if my life, which I thought was a good one, was missing something vital, a color maybe, like electric blue. I wished I could have spent the day with her, doing nothing, walking in the city, stopping into shops we liked, like we used to do when we were young.
On the train, I looked at the picture we had just taken. I examined her tooth that was sticking out in a funny angle and realized that my bottom teeth weren’t so great either. They had shifted into the beginning of a jumble.It was still early.
I stopped at the grocery store on my way home to buy things to make dinner. I ran into a friend, another mom, in the frozen aisle. We had the usual conversation – kids, varsity soccer, the glorious weather, blah blah blah. “Don’t forget tennis tomorrow and Mother’s Day brunch at the club,” she said over her shoulder.
When I got home, I took off the ring. I was alone, and no one needed me for the moment. I drove into town and poked my head in at the local orthodontist, the one who had put braces on my boys. “Can you fix my teeth?” I asked. “Sure,” he said. “Hop in the chair and let’s take a look.”
Hyperglycemia: Pathophysiological Causes, Clinical Consequences, and Laboratory Diagnosis
Author: Davlatyorova Iqbol Alisher qizi
Institution: Tashkent Medical Academy, Urganch Branch – Advanced Training in Clinical Laboratory Diagnostics
Abstract
Hyperglycemia is a clinical and laboratory sign of many systemic metabolic disorders. This article aims to investigate the underlying causes, short- and long-term consequences, and the role of clinical laboratory diagnosis in the early detection and management of hyperglycemia. Key laboratory tests such as fasting glucose, OGTT, HbA1c, and their interpretation in different clinical settings are discussed.
1. Introduction
Glucose is the primary energy source for most cells in the human body. Its level in blood is tightly controlled by a complex hormonal system, mainly insulin. Hyperglycemia refers to an abnormally high concentration of glucose in the blood, typically above 7.0 mmol/L when fasting, and may signal the presence of diabetes mellitus or other endocrine or stress-related disorders.
2. Pathophysiological Mechanisms of Hyperglycemia
Hyperglycemia may result from different mechanisms: decreased insulin production, increased resistance to insulin at the cellular level, or excessive hepatic glucose output. Type 1 diabetes mellitus is caused by autoimmune destruction of pancreatic beta-cells, while type 2 is linked to peripheral insulin resistance. Temporary hyperglycemia can also occur during severe infections, trauma, myocardial infarction, or treatment with corticosteroids.
3. Clinical Manifestations and Complications
Early symptoms of hyperglycemia include polyuria, polydipsia, fatigue, blurred vision, and weight loss. Chronic untreated hyperglycemia leads to serious complications such as nephropathy, retinopathy, peripheral neuropathy, and cardiovascular disease. Acute decompensation may present as diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) or hyperosmolar hyperglycemic state (HHS).
4. Laboratory Diagnosis of Hyperglycemia
Laboratory testing is the cornerstone of diagnosing hyperglycemia. Commonly used tests include:
– Random Blood Glucose: ≥11.1 mmol/L in symptomatic patients.
5. Preanalytical and Analytical Considerations
Proper sample collection (venous plasma, fasting state), avoidance of glycolysis by timely processing, and accurate calibration of analyzers are essential for valid glucose results. Point-of-care testing (glucometers) is useful for self-monitoring, but should not replace lab-based tests for diagnosis.
6. Laboratory Role in Monitoring and Prevention
Laboratory follow-up is key in managing patients with diabetes. Periodic HbA1c testing, renal function tests (creatinine, urine albumin), and lipid profile help prevent complications. Mass screening programs in high-risk populations (obese, hypertensive, family history) are recommended.
7. Conclusion
Hyperglycemia is a complex metabolic condition that requires timely and accurate laboratory diagnosis. Understanding the laboratory parameters, their clinical interpretation, and integration into patient care pathways can significantly reduce the disease burden and improve health outcomes.
