Essay from Boqijonova Madinabonu

The truth.

 A mother is a mother.  She does not need another quality.  (O’tkir Hashimov “World affairs”) 

August 29, 2022…

  The last days of summer.  Hot days are over.  One season was ready to give way to another season

Having graduated from school, achieved my dream, and been admitted to a higher educational institution, I fly in the seventh heaven, hoping that I will be a special person in the coming season, that is, I will be a student.  I grew up in a simple village, among simple people.  This event that I remember now is what I witnessed with my own eyes.  The names in it have changed.  Maybe people too.  But it did not affect me.  I know there are many stories, fairy tales, songs, poems about mothers.  Among these, I would like to add the fate of a poor mother who I witnessed.  I know that I am powerless to reprimand someone for something.  However, through this story, I would like to remind you that we need to understand the truth more deeply.  

ЭIt was August 29 … I was returning home after celebrating with my friends because of my admission.  There are a lot of cars and people on the street.  I could not understand what happened.  A little while ago, when I was returning from a party, I fell into a different state after seeing this situation.  I could hear the whispers of people passing by me on the street: “Yes, the poor man was ill for a long time, it was difficult for his son. Such words. I felt like I understood.  Aunt Farida

… Aunt Farida is dead. Aunt Farida is our neighbor, she has one son and one daughter. Her children divorced her husband when they were small. I am also the richest person in the world.  I don’t say that I am satisfied with life and my fate, I am living a very good life. Therefore, this cannot be expected even from a poor and helpless person. But my aunt Farida was really struggling to make a living. As soon as her daughter graduated from school, she worked from morning to night in order to help her mother.

It is not for nothing that they say that the role of the father in the upbringing of a boy is great.  Farida’s aunt’s son may have lacked this upbringing.  True, he also helped his family and his mother, but for some reason he did not act himself until he said that his mother was suffering and that he should act for the sake of the family.  One day my mother was baking bread in the oven.  I was always busy with tasks.  Aunt Farida came to our place.  While they were talking with my mother for a while, my mother went to the oven again, to my aunt Farida’s house.  At that time, my mother said that she will stay with you today.  It has been a year and a half since the wedding of my aunt Farida’s daughter Sevinch.  He came out to say that his son is staying at our house because he is alone at home today for some reason. 

That day remained with us.  He could not sleep well at night because it was a strange house.  Whether my brother or mother noticed it, I felt it very well.  Sahar got up in the morning to pray the morning prayer.  We all read.  But he said that he will go home without having breakfast.  The medicine he used to drink before breakfast was left at home.  One day he went in without agreeing to do nothing.  Aunt Farida’s house is almost not finished, even so, it took a lot of work to get to its current state.  That is, my aunt Farida picked cotton and carrots in autumn.  In the spring, he took out the cotton crop.  So, in every season, seasonal jobs were found for him. 

My mother said that they restored these houses with the help of my aunt Farida’s father, and then they did a lot of work themselves.  Of course, his children were young at that time.  In 2020, when the coronavirus spread all over the world, my aunt Farida became seriously ill.  His daughter is married.  His son was in Russia.  He spent a lot of time in the hospital.  He left the hospital, but the effect of his patients did not go away.

They were in the process of renovating their house beautifully to marry their son. It was summer.  It was the end of summer.  Aunt Farida was affected by that illness, difficult times of fate, the end of many misfortunes, literally speaking.  Maybe there are many things that happened in the fate of this mother that I did not know.  But the difficulty of the past tense of these simply written words, which I have listed, is actually great.  What was the saddest thing… After the death of my aunt Farida, she sold her son’s houses, the house where she was born and grew up, where she spent her childhood, where her mother and grandfather worked hard, and married a woman in the city.  He moved to the country.  He did not stay in that house because of his mother’s respect.  Sorry… It really hurt me.  Because it was not just a house, but also a memory.  One day my married sister came to our house.  When they come, there will be a holiday in our house.  When my sister was talking to my mother, I overheard: “I saw my aunt Farida in my dream last night. They were looking at me and saying: Iftar is being served in heaven, I am going there.”They were like happy people. 

Mother’s love is real, not everyone understands it.

Boqijonova Madinabonu. Born in 2004 in Koshtepa district of Fergana region. Currently, he is a 1st-year student of the Faculty of Philology of Fergana State University, majoring in Russian language and literature.

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