DRAMATIC COLLISION IN SHUKRULLO’S “BURIED WITHOUT A SHROUD”                                                                                             

Iroda Ibragimova 

Jizzakh State Pedagogical University

Faculty of Philology, 1st-year student

​E-mail:  irodaibragimova896@gmail.com

This article examines the devastating impact of the totalitarian regime on human personality and destiny through the example of Shukrullo’s work “Buried Without a Shroud”. The main issue of the work is interpreted from a literary and psychological perspective, focusing on the spiritual resilience of the lyrical protagonist (the author himself) and his struggle to preserve inner freedom amid the horrors of the 1937 repression period. The conducted research proves that the work is not merely a historical document, but a true tragedy demonstrating that personal courage and universal human values are capable of surviving even under totalitarianism.

Keywords:

Buried Without a Shroud, Repression Period, Autobiographical Prose, Victims of Stalinism, Totalitarianism, Forced Labor Camp System, Psychological Analysis, Personal Tragedy.

INTRODUCTION

In the history of Uzbek literature, Shukrullo’s work “Buried Without a Shroud” is recognized as one of the most significant and courageous examples of prose from the independence period. This work is a literary and historical document that reflects the cruel reality of the political repressions that affected the intellectuals of Uzbekistan during the 1930s–1950s, conveyed through personal experiences. The autobiographical nature of the work and the author’s depiction of the severe trials within the system of forced labor camps further intensify its emotional impact on the reader.

The purpose of this study is to analyze the pressure of the totalitarian regime on the individual as portrayed in “Buried Without a Shroud”, as well as the protagonist’s inner spiritual struggle against this oppression and the motives behind his moral choices. The work also depicts how many innocent Uzbek young men were falsely accused, brutally executed, and thrown into the soil without shrouds. The main thesis of the article is that Shukrullo presents the forced labor settlements not merely as physical prisons, but as a system aimed at destroying the human spirit; however, through the lyrical protagonist’s inner monologues and moral resistance, the narrative demonstrates a spiritual victory over the regime.

MAIN PART

1. The Psychology of the Repression Period and Inner Loneliness

The psychological state of the protagonist becomes an object of analysis from the very beginning of the work. The scenes of interrogation and arrest reveal the complete helplessness of the individual in the face of totalitarianism. By depicting the protagonist’s extremely delicate inner experiences, the author demonstrates that spiritual suffering is deeper and more devastating than physical torture.

The protagonist’s first experiences in prison are particularly significant for psychological analysis. He describes himself as “a soul crying between invisible walls” [Shukrullo, 2015, p. 32]. This image signifies the individual’s isolation from society and confinement within a spiritual cage. A direct example reflecting the protagonist’s sense of loneliness and despair is expressed in the following lines: “It was not an iron cage that surrounded me, but walls of facelessness and conscience-lessness. I felt completely cut off from the world” [Shukrullo, 2015, p. 45].

2. The Struggle for Human Dignity in the Life of Totalitarian Labor Camps

The central part of the work — the detailed depiction of life in repression camps — is presented as a field of moral choices. Despite hunger, cold, and constant threats in the лагер conditions, the author shows through his protagonist that supreme human values such as compassion, friendship, and conscience can still be preserved. This struggle forms the core idea of the work. The cruelty inflicted upon prisoners and the harsh treatment they endured are clearly portrayed.

Scenes depicting the author’s spiritual closeness with other prisoners strengthen the motif of preserving inner freedom. He writes: “To share a piece of bread, to look at one another in silence — this had become the highest expression of human life” [Shukrullo, 2015, p. 115]. Their monologues about “seeking light within the darkness” demonstrate spiritual resilience and unbreakable will [Shukrullo, 2015, p. 128].

3. “Buried Without a Shroud” – Interpretation of Its Symbolic Meaning

The title of the work — “Buried Without a Shroud” — carries a powerful symbolic meaning that reveals the inhuman essence of the totalitarian regime. A shroud is not only a material object, but also a spiritual ritual and a sign of respect. To be buried without a shroud signifies not only physical death, but also the erasure of a person from social memory and the loss of human dignity.

The term is used by the author to represent the spiritual death of repression victims and the attempt to erase their names from history. In the work, the forced labor settlements themselves are depicted as vast graves: “Here they do not shroud us; they simply kill our memory and bury it” [Shukrullo, 2015, p. 210]. One of the most powerful expressions of the author’s lyrical voice appears in the following line: “It was not the road to death itself, but the loss of dignity that was the most terrible tragedy” [Shukrullo, 2015, p. 230].

4. The Literary Value of Memory and Resistance

The value of this work also lies in the fact that it was created years after the tragic events it describes. It is not merely a journalistic account, but a spiritual victory of memory over tragedy. The author’s later reflections further enhance the literary significance of the work.

As an example of autobiographical prose, its scientific and historical value is strengthened, presenting it as an important source for preserving historical memory for future generations. Memory itself becomes a weapon of resistance, as the author writes: “I was compelled to write this work so that the horror of those past days might continue to flow in the blood of the next generation” [Shukrullo, 2015, p. 255].

CONCLUSION

Through “Buried Without a Shroud,” Shukrullo introduced a new dimension to the tradition of psychological realism in Uzbek literature within the context of the repression period. The findings of this study confirm that despite the overwhelming pressure of the totalitarian regime on the individual, the lyrical protagonist preserves his inner moral independence and spiritual freedom.

This article strengthens the theoretical approach to “Buried Without a Shroud” and presents it as a valuable source for studying the prose of forced labor camps in post-Soviet literature.

                         List of References

1. Shukrullo. Kafansiz koʻmilganlar (Qayta nashr). Toshkent: Yangi asr avlodi. 2015.
2. Joʻrayev M. Jadid adabiyotining psixologik qatlamlari. Toshkent: Akademnashr. 2023
3. Normatov U. Adabiyot moʻjizasi: Tanlangan maqolalar. Toshkent: Sharq. 2018

RISK 

The most sacred to mankind 

Is man’s

Creative Imagination.

Give anything away 

Not your right 

And your power 

To think, dream and create.

If you are bewitched by 

A machine’s great work, 

And you wish to 

Become as exact,

Don’t forget, 

They are subject to 

The wishes of a master.

As a man, if you love 

Your independence

Don’t ever think of reducing yourself 

To a machine, which has no will 

And which has a switch.

Beware of the being 

Reduced to a switch.

Death is not what is worst 

For mankind 

But if someone tells you

What to think, 

Not to dream, 

And not to sleep at night 

Your survival is at risk.

金鱼

李心怡（10岁，小荷诗社）

金鱼，金鱼

金色的身体

快活的尾巴

美丽的眼睛

每天开开心心在一起

Goldfish

Li Xinyi (10, Xiaohe Poetry Society)

Goldfish, goldfish,

Golden body,

Cheerful tail,

Beautiful eyes.

Every day, happily together.

愉悦瞬间

赵雨桐（12岁，小荷诗社）

阳光跳进窗台，

笑声传透校园。

风抚过花朵摇摆，

快乐的愉悦感轻舞而来。

A Moment of Joy

Zhao Yutong (12, Xiaohe Poetry Society)

Sunlight leaps onto the windowsill,

Laughter echoes through the campus.

The wind strokes the swaying flowers,

And a happy sense of joy dances in.

夏日趣事

黄震宇（10岁，小荷诗社）

夏日趣事

就是一卷凉席

一根冰棒

一部电视剧

一个美好的心情

Summer Fun

Huang Zhenyu (10, Xiaohe Poetry Society)

Summer fun

Is a roll of cool mat,

A popsicle,

A TV drama,

And a beautiful mood.

黄昏

张海童（11岁，小荷诗社）

太阳顺着地平线下落

路上车来人往

我背着书包回家

买一根冰棍

很甜 很满足

鸟飞回巢穴

世界缓缓入眠

Dusk

Zhang Haitong (11, Xiaohe Poetry Society)

The sun sinks along the horizon,

Cars and people pass by on the road.

I walk home with my schoolbag,

Buy a popsicle,

Sweet and satisfying.

Birds fly back to their nests,

The world slowly drifts to sleep.

常足

刘良语（12岁，小荷诗社）

绿茵足踏尘沙，

一路攻向榜眼。

纵使未得金杯，

锋芒不减依然。

汗透征衣未歇脚，

拼来银榜不放松。

今朝暂作君下臣，

他日再登顶顶峰。

Ever Sufficient

Liu Liangyu (12, Xiaohe Poetry Society)

On the green field, feet tread the dust and sand,

Charging all the way toward the second place.

Even if the golden cup is not won,

The edge remains undiminished.

Sweat soaks the battle robe, yet no rest is taken,

Fighting for the silver list, never letting go.

Today, I temporarily stand as your subordinate,

Tomorrow, I will climb to the peak again.

家

宁静涵（9岁，毓秀小学）

树叶是露珠的摇篮

花朵是蜜蜂的眠床

小溪是鱼虾的乐园

家是孩子的避风港

Home

Ning Jinghan (9, Yuxiu Primary School)

Leaves are cradles for dewdrops,

Flowers are beds for bees,

Streams are paradise for fish and shrimp,

Home is a safe haven for children.

夏天是什么

王雨彤（9岁，毓秀小学）

夏天

是嘴里西瓜滴答的甜

是樱桃园里珍珠的红

是树上的蝉鸣一声声

是金色的麦浪一层层

夏天是什么

王雨彤（9岁，毓秀小学）

夏天

是嘴里西瓜滴答的甜

是樱桃园里珍珠的红

是树上的蝉鸣一声声

是金色的麦浪一层层

..

What Is Summer?

Wang Yutong (9, Yuxiu Primary School)

Summer

Is the sweet drip of watermelon on my tongue,

Is the pearl-red of cherries in the orchard,

Is the cicada’s song from the trees, one by one,

Is the golden waves of wheat, layer upon layer.

春天

王雨彤（9岁，毓秀小学）

春姑娘叫醒了

熟睡的柳树

柳树伸了个懒腰

照着镜子

梳着它的长辫子

Spring

Wang Yutong (9, Yuxiu Primary School)

Spring Maiden wakes up

The sleeping willow tree.

The willow stretches lazily,

Looks in the mirror,

And combs its long braids.

打翻了

任奕泓（9岁，毓秀小学）

天空打翻了颜料盘

把夕阳染成了五彩色

我把金黄色悄悄装进书包

撒在麦田里

农民伯伯露出了

幸福的笑容

Spilled Over

Ren Yihong (9, Yuxiu Primary School)

The sky spilled its paint palette,

Dyeing the sunset in five bright colors.

I quietly tuck the golden hue into my schoolbag,

And scatter it over the wheat fields.

Uncle Farmer shows

A happy smile.

长大

张羽瑄（9岁，毓秀小学）

蒲公英长大后

跟妈妈告别

坐着免费的大巴

去世界各地旅行

小水滴长大后

跟妈妈告别

和自己的小伙伴

一起去看那汹涌的大海

苍耳长大后

跟妈妈告别

跟着小动物

一起去探索新的世界

Growing Up

Zhang Yuxuan (9, Yuxiu Primary School)

When dandelions grow up,

They say goodbye to their mother,

Riding on free buses,

Traveling all over the world.

When little water drops grow up,

They say goodbye to their mother,

And with their little friends,

Go to see the surging sea.

When cockleburs grow up,

They say goodbye to their mother,

Following small animals,

To explore a new world together.

Project 

Youth and Poetry 

Founder 

EVA Petropoulou Lianou 

Su Yun 

Co partner 

China 

1.雪原

——放丢了绿野，便难逃白雪

无路可走

没收我带

着温热的

愁

寒栗不休

开始

缘身修衣

沿路拾柴

补一群

绿野逃走的

墙口

Snowfield

—Losing the green wild, one can never flee the white snow

No path to tread

It seizes the grief

I carry, still warm

Chills surge unceasing

I start

To mend my robe round the frame

Gather firewood along the way

To patch the gaps

Where the green wild fled

From the wall

2.年碑

——为你做碑

只攒了些许

清楚

流尽落款

的灰

敞开东行

的雪

站成南向

的碑

来年

椿的，杨的，榆的

陷了一堆

涨了一辈

Epitaph of the Year

—Carving a stele for you

I only gather a little

Clarity

Till the ash of the signature

Runs dry

Unfurl the snow

Wending east

Stand as a stele

Facing south

In the coming year

Of the Chinese toon, the poplar, the elm

A pile sinks

A generation rise

3.阴天

我习惯

冬的母亲

持续凌冽

里断里

有一天扭捏

难肯

凭惯性

结果她

含了许久

才送出

带着温润

的种

跑去埋下

发不了

芽

Overcast Day

I’m used to it

Winter’s mother

Keeps the bitter chill

Lingering, fraying

Once in a while, coy

Reluctant

By force of habit

Turns out she

Holds it long

Before she sends forth

The seed

Warmed and mild

I run to bury it

It won’t

Sprout

4.送叶

春天的

许应

旋我在

雪上

等到脱落

的叶

飞上高枝

却是灰黑

的雀

Sending the Leaf

The promise

of spring

Whirls me upon

the snow

Till the fallen

leaf

Rises to the high branch

Yet it’s a dull black

sparrow

5.望波

我追不上

认定的

波

母亲静立

看阔阔的

河

至夜半

外公的眼角

搁浅了

泥螺

我一并

掂起

但我行动

太缓

完成不了

对一个

人的

提纯

Gazing at the Waves

I cannot catch up

with the wave

I set my heart on

Mother stands still

watching the broad

river

Till midnight

in Grandpa’s eyes

mud snails run aground

I pick them up

all together

Yet my steps are

too slow

to finish

the purification

of a

person

Su Yun, 17 years old, is a member of the Chinese Poetry Society and a young poet. His works have been published in more than ten countries. He has published two poetry collections in China, namely Inspiration from All Things and Wisdom and Philosophy, and one in India titled WITH ECSTASY OF MUSINGS IN TRANQUILITY. He has won the Guido Gozzano Orchard Award in Italy, the Special Award for Foreign Writers in the City of Pomezia, and was praised by the organizing committee as the “Craftsman of Chinese Lyric Poetry”. He has also received the “Cuttlefish Bone” Best International Writer Award for those under 25.

THE MAN WHO DIDN’T MAKE IT HOME FROM THE BAR

On the riverbank,

lies your half-life,

a drunken curve,

a dead-breathing breast.

Waltzing home 

on tiptoes of booze,

you land like a corpse

by the gurgling stream.

Come morning,

the search party sets out,

your wife, your kids,

find you with your vomit

in a gray pool 

around your mouth.

The question is

who loves you?

Some still do.

Some stop that very moment.

FIGHT OVER A GIRL

Both without fathers, both poor,

like brothers except we were punching each other.

But isn’t that what some brothers do?

I scratched him up a little.

He bloodied my nose, bruised a cheek.

Then I shoved him against a wall.

And he thumped me back.

All that touching, all that rage,

it could have felt intimate

but didn’t.

Both of us keen on a cheerleader.

What do you make of that kind of love?

Laughter mostly.

I hit him in the eye accidentally.

He begged me to stop. And so I stopped.

RAINING IN THE INNER CITY

Another drive-by,

another homeless guy 

fished out of the river,

three in the morning,

the inner city’s black eye,

my stream of consciousness

has been dammed up,

it’s raining waterfalls,

the gutters are ocean deep,

the clubs are closed,

the last bass solo

is played in a backstage

dressing room,

nothing’s new

but everything is curious

in its way,

late February,

so many rabbit holes

under an awning

drum my fingers 

on a store window,

can’t find the melody,

long for a beer,

the night has me on call

if a line of poetry is needed,

like a lit candle

in a blowing wind,

or a eulogy 

to the stranger

whose body has not been

discovered yet.

LEAVING TOWN

She’s wearing this green skirt

and blue and white sweater,

standing outside a convenience store

that also doubles now and then

as a bus stop.

A battered suitcase stands to attention

on either side of her.

She keeps looking east,

the direction her transport 

should be coming from.

It’s early November 

and the wind is blowing in from 

the cornfields, cold and bitter.

But there comes a time

where staying makes no sense

and leaving, even without 

any kind of plan, is the only option.

Maybe she knows someone 

where she’s going.

Maybe she has prospects.

Or could be a destination 

caught her eye 

for no other reason than

she likes the name.

At last, she sees the bus 

half a mile in the distance

and headed her way.

She grabs the handles of her cases.

Her grip is tighter

than it has ever been.

THIRD FUNERAL THIS YEAR

I’m at a funeral of someone I barely know.
He’s a third cousin of my wife or something.
She hardly knows him either.
The death of strangers…it’s a family thing.

We sit in the rear of the church,
far away from the teary ones
who actually knew the guy.
We’re sad for them. It’s the best we can do.

Then it’s to the cemetery.
We’re so far back of the hearse,
it’s like we’re at the head
of someone else’s procession.

We pray at the gravesite,
pray that no one asks who we are.
Then it’s back to the house for
catered devils eggs and chicken salad sandwiches.

Even my wife isn’t sure if it’s
the right house or not.
But there’s one of her aunts.
“He was only fifty-five,” she says.

Or at least, that’s what her third cousin
told her nephew-in-law.
An hour later, we leave,
thinking to ourselves, someone died

and we’re just moderately upset.
Ah death, if only you would keep your distance thus.
Like a third cousin or something.
And on my wife’s side.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Midnight Mind, Trampoline and Flights. Latest books, “Bittersweet”, “Subject Matters” and “Between Two Fires” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Levitate, White Wall Review and Willow Review.

Excerpted from the book Decoding Dongba Culture by Lan Xin (Lan Xin Samei)

Wan Yilong: Practicing Great Love with High-Dimensional Wisdom

Casting the Soul for the Inheritance of Dongba Culture

By Lan Xin (Lanxin Samei)

Mr. Wan Yilong is an outstanding master of traditional Chinese culture, a high-dimensional wisdom mentor, spiritual practitioner, poet, and philanthropist. He is also the founder of the Nine Dragons Realm, Dean of the High-Dimensional Wisdom Academy, Dean of the Dongba Culture Academy, and a rare Han Chinese inheritor of Dongba Culture.

Born in Anyang, Henan, the hometown of China’s oracle bone inscriptions, he has been deeply nourished by 5,000 years of Chinese civilization since childhood. Proficient in I Ching at a young age, he devoted himself to Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism, integrating ancient Eastern philosophy with spiritual wisdom. He enlightens hearts with wisdom and expresses the soul with poetry, spreading Eastern high-dimensional wisdom and great love to the world.

He is a true man of action who “does more than he speaks.” In daily life, he lives simply and frugally, with no pursuit of luxury or fame. Yet in charity and cultural inheritance, he gives his all without reservation. He has quietly helped countless strangers, never seeking recognition or reward, embodying great love through deeds and fulfilling his mission with a devout heart.

My encounter with Mr. Wan Yilong was legendary and destined. In a spiritual workshop with many fellow practitioners, I stood quietly and independently in the crowd, with a unique and serene aura. Though surrounded by many admirers for his “Third Eye” that perceives the truth of life, he noticed me at first sight among all those people.

He walked toward me gently, with firm and sincere eyes, and whispered: “We have met before.”

At the moment our eyes met, a familiar feeling across time and space arose naturally. With his high-dimensional perception, he clearly saw my form in multi-dimensional space and revealed the deepest imprints and mission of my soul. I was deeply shocked and convinced that this meeting was divinely destined. Since then, we have become closest partners, awakening the wisdom of countless lifetimes together, and guarding the inheritance of Eastern civilization hand in hand.

Over the years, Mr. Wan and I have worked together to protect and inherit Dongba Culture, a precious World Memory Heritage. We co-founded the public-welfare Dongba Culture Academy. Introduced by me, he became one of the very few Han Chinese inheritors of Dongba Culture. Together with Elder Aheng Dongta, he has devoted himself to sustaining this thousand-year-old cultural lineage. With profound cultural knowledge and high-dimensional insight, he helped me awaken the hidden wisdom of sacred mantras, rituals, and life energy, allowing the ancient civilization to shine anew in the modern era.

Deeply moved by the crisis facing Dongba Culture — few inheritors, most of them elderly and struggling to make a living — he made the rescue and inheritance of Dongba Culture his lifelong mission. Together, we restored an ancient thousand-year-old temple into the now-renowned Yulong Wenbi Dongba Culture Academy, creating a sacred home for Dongba inheritors to practice, research, and pass on their heritage.

Mr. Wan upholds the philanthropic philosophy of “teaching people to fish rather than giving them fish.” He provides not only material support but also platforms for cultural exchange, ancient scripture research, traditional ceremonies, and public education in the most dignified way for Dongba masters. This enables them to gain stable livelihoods and social respect while preserving their culture. He has traveled many times to remote mountainous areas such as Shangri-La and Muli in Sichuan to visit, comfort, and support the elder Dongba masters guarding the cultural roots, warming hearts with sincere and practical love.

As an extraordinary high-dimensional wisdom mentor and spiritual practitioner, Mr. Wan integrates the essence of wisdom from Buddhism, Taoism, Christianity, and Dongba Culture. He perceives the karmic roots of life through the “Third Eye,” explores the mysteries of the multi-dimensional universe via astral travel, and chants cosmic sounds from high-dimensional realms with pure intention. This energetic frequency helps people break through physical limitations, connect with ancestral wisdom, awaken their soul guardians, resolve life confusion, and find their ultimate life purpose.

He never boasts of his extraordinary abilities or pursues personal gain, always guiding and healing all beings with compassion. For those trapped in confusion and suffering, he illuminates their path with high-dimensional wisdom and liberates them from karmic obstacles through spiritual practices. He heals both physical pain and spiritual wounds, helping countless people regain light and hope from hardship. For him, spirituality is not abstract theory, but a way of living integrated into every word, every deed, and every ordinary moment — seeing the sacred in the mundane, realizing the Tao in daily life.

At the Dongba Culture Academy, Mr. Wan is one of the core spiritual guiding forces. People from all over the world come seeking help with health, relationships, career, and spiritual struggles. With his ability to “see through karma,” he accurately identifies the root of their difficulties. Combining Eastern spiritual wisdom and ancient Dongba rituals, he has helped countless people experience life transformation: infertile couples welcoming children, critically ill patients recovering, lost souls finding direction, and suffering beings regaining peace. These real transformations are the best proof of his high-dimensional wisdom and boundless love.

Mr. Wan Yilong lights the path of cultural inheritance with high-dimensional wisdom, walks the way with selfless love, and guards the roots of civilization with poetic spirit and devotion.

He is a practitioner of Eastern high-dimensional wisdom, a distinguished Chinese poet on the international stage, a humble and profound philanthropist, a soul-builder for Dongba cultural inheritance, and a guide who transforms lives through life.

He shows the world the vision and dignity of a true Chinese spiritual practitioner. With perseverance, he revives the thousand-year-old culture; with compassion, he shines like starlight, illuminating countless lost souls.

He lives by this truth:

True high-dimensional wisdom begins with awakening and belongs to great love.

True spirituality and charity lie not in words, but in devoted action.