Wise teacher

After the bell rang for the recess, uproar started in Class 2 “B”. It was impossible to understand anything because everyone’s words sounded out of order from all sides. A little girl named Nozima stood in the middle and cried, the children surrounded her. Later it became known that Nozima’s money was stolen. She had been saving her daily lunch money for a long time to buy a present for his mother’s birthday. She asked all her classmates, but could not find any money.

In fact, it was clear that the boy who took it would not give and admit that “I stole.” The next lesson, Nozima and her teacher entered the mother tongue class together. The teacher found out about everything and was very angry with the children. After greeting the children, the teacher thought for a while and said: My children, let’s do something together now. But first, think about how bad it is to steal. Nozima wanted to make her mother happy by buying a gift for this money, after all… Whoever took it, please return it without telling anyone. I will help you.

Then the teacher opened Nozima’s bag and showed it to all the children. It was empty. Then she placed it on a chair in the corner. The teacher once again asked the students to throw the money in this bag. Two students held a large cloth and formed a small shelter next to the bag. All the students stood in line and started to enter from one side of the fabric and exit from the other side. Finally, when all the students passed, the teacher took the bag and checked it. The most surprising thing was that money appeared in the bag!

That day, the boy who stole the money was not ashamed, and the money was returned to its owner. All the children admired the wisdom of the teacher. 

Written by Ochildiyeva Shahnoza, student of  University of Journalism and communication of Uzbekistan

Translated by Ochildiyeva Dilnoza, student of Samarkand State institute of foreign language

Homeland

Navoi’s blood flows in my veins,

Jalaluddin left a legacy, his soul. 

Temur’s glory gives pride,

Kutlug is on my tongue – Homeland, the word.

Your flag of Hilpirar, fly over my head, 

Children in your arms, every moment is sweet. 

Without you, the seven worlds are too narrow for me. 

Your land is holy, and all around it. 

Motherland – you are lonely in the flower beds, 

My dear bird, you are the best in the world. 

You are the genius who gave the climate,

You can’t find a comparison with me.

Abdullah Ariflar, Erkin Vahidlar,

It is written – a beautiful ode for you, 

My hands tremble, all are witnesses, 

Your name still stands – between the lips…

I started it, and now there’s no going back. 

My heart flutters – in my heart. 

There’s no way, but it’s never been said,

A passionate name, the word “Motherland” is on the tip of the tongue.

Ismailov Shukurillo 09.08.2024

Ismailov Shukurillo was born on June 5, 2007 in the village of Sarikorgon, Uchkoprik district, Fergana region. As he has a strong interest in music and literature from a young age, he will start studying at the “Children’s Music and Art School” in 2019. Now 

26 – 11th grade student of general secondary school. He started writing poems from the age of 12. His creative works have been published several times in regional, regional, republican and international magazines. He actively participated in many competitions and received souvenirs. He was elected as the coordinator of his region by the “Shijoat free volunteering” team.

At the same time, he is busy writing large and small works of art. His future dream is to become a sharp writer and poet.

My hands don’t tell me to touch another,

not to hug them, not to kiss them, 

not to slap them, not to stab them,

nor even feel for them at all.

My hands write,

write the scenarios I played out for crowds.

I write until the skin on my hands disintegrates,

blood puddles on the paper,

scattering stories unable to be spoken.

When bubbled crimsons agile hands daunt an 

unchased stars truthful lies,

no escape to tame relocation.

Although memory stings like rays,

escaping towards shallow shadows,

hollow to silent foretelling fate.

Dried up hopes flourished again,

lines weren’t nothing but stables for either.

We know yet fear the ideas 

of a galaxy collapsed fate.

Fate connects us more to ourselves

than any addiction punctured into our backs.

Told they will suppress our emotions,

we quote what they tell us

in grief,

in love,

in translucency.

Our bodies tell the truth.

addiction is emotion in hiding

when they are not to be.

Emotions are never more alive 

when cut into you.

A Child of God:

Writer has a few questions.

William Blake insisted that at age four he’d seen God watching him, his head pressed against Blake’s window. 

Scholars and layfolk cite this as the beginning of Blake’s prophetic afflictions.

God-believing scholars and layfolk.

But the eyes of the Lord are in every place, no?

After all, a thing unseen is neither good nor bad. 

As Heisenberg and Schrödinger proved, it’s only thinking that makes it so.

And who worth their weight in salt doesn’t watch after their children?

Brooks Lindberg lives in the Pacific Northwest. His poems and antipoems appear frequently in The Beatnik Cowboy, Horror Sleaze Trash, and elsewhere.

On Earth

We are quiet

we are calm

we are word hunters

we are labors

we are cookers

we are timekeepers-

of our stars

with the sun warm stars

with the moon our resting heart

with the days we become strong

We sometimes sing a song

when we are happy in life’s psalm.

My parents’ faith gave me strength. 

I was born in Asaka district of Andijan region, in a family of intellectuals.

All my achievements today are due to the support of my parents since childhood.

My parents taught me to read and write, they brought me books every week, my childhood was spent in social activity, participating in various contests, and working on myself.

The doors that were closed in my face encouraged me to be stronger, to act more boldly towards my goal, and I achieved all this.

The award is not important for me, it is important that I can do it and be recognized.

When I graduated, I grew up as a strong person. During this period, I rediscovered myself as a person. Although I am a positive person, my first year as an applicant was somewhat difficult. But it was the process of adaptation that opened up new horizons in my psyche. I devoted my time to learning more. My efforts to study and research were not in vain. 

For the first time, with the intention of going abroad, I took a course in the subject that I had studied little. The fact that I gained experience in different directions has a great role in my financial independence.

My parents have a big role in everything. Since childhood, I have always strived for the best in everything. I thank my parents, who did not put pressure on me and did not set limits saying, “You are a girl.”

“My daughter knows very well what to say and which way to walk, no matter where she is,” they say.

My parents have a great role in my success.  

 From my parents, I learned to be honest and truthful, to constantly work on myself, to make the most of every moment. For this reason, I did not suffer financially.

Since I was 16 years old, I tried to support myself and cover my needs.

My lifestyle, dreams and goals, which I have always promised myself, give me strength and motivation.

Olimova Muslima Odiljon’s daughter was born on 07.08.2007 in the city of Asaka, Andijan region. She graduated from the 13th school of Asaka district with a gold medal. Andijan Mechanical Engineering Institute. 1st year student of Information Systems and Technologies, Faculty of IB and CT.