Essay from Sevinch Raxmanova

Young Central Asian teen girl with long dark hair and a beige sweater holding a bouquet of roses. She's inside standing in front of a mirror.
Sevinch Raxmanova

YOU ARE  A POX THAT ANGELS LOVE

Childhood! Most people remember their childhood with the most innocent and joyful memories. But not all people! Fate can give a person unexpected tests at any time.

My childhood… The happiest and the saddest period. No matter how hard and how hard it was, even if it was just one day of my childhood, I would trade my entire life for that one day.Because there were my loving parents, my grandparents who always had a smile on their bright faces, my brothers who made us all laugh with their joyful laughter, and a little girl who was still unaware of the storms that the sea called life had thrown for her.

  I remember… It was one of the warm spring days. The weather has been bad since morning, my father was nervous for some reason and was in a hurry to go somewhere. And I reluctantly sat next to my brother in the crib, as my mother told me. Because when he wakes up, he cries out of fear, and then it takes me a long time to calm him down. As soon as he woke up, I would rock the crib and try to lull him back to sleep. If I’m not mistaken, I was four or five years old.

My mother and grandmother baked bread, and my grandfather took care of cattle in the barn.  Suddenly it started to rain. My mother ran and brought my brother inside, who was lying in a crib on the porch, and ordered me not to leave. Later, my grandfather came in coughing heavily, and my grandmother was heard saying something in a disapproving tone. Soon my brother woke up and started crying. She didn’t stop crying even though I tried to comfort her. Then I hurried to tell my mother. My mother used to bring home bread from the oven. As soon as I told him, my brother quickly put the bread in the kitchen and ran away. I looked at the crimson bread that came out of the oven, I wanted to eat one, but I was afraid that my mother would hit me, so I left slowly.

It started to rain, for some reason my heart was disturbed, some fear gripped me. I ran inside in fear when a loud thunder rumbled. At that moment, someone shouted loudly and called my grandfather. My grandfather quickly put on his shoes and ran out into the street. After him, my grandmother ran out carrying my grandfather’s coat. But my grandfather and the unknown uncle had already left.

An hour later, my grandfather came in with his eyes closed. I have never seen my grandfather look so miserable before. They could barely breathe and gathered all their strength to call my grandmother. My grandmother ran to my grandfather, my grandfather whispered something to my grandmother. My grandmother suddenly burst into tears. I did not understand. My mother said, “Nuria, come to your brother.” I, not knowing anything, went to my brother in excitement and fear. Around noon, a crowd of people gathered in our house. My mother and grandmother were crying incessantly, our relatives – our relatives were running everywhere, my grandfather was staring at one point at the edge of the yard and gently nodding his head to those who came and went.

These are the memories I have from those dark days. I don’t know what happened to him. I can say that it was only when I reached school age that I learned that my father died in a car accident, and at that time my poor mother was left a widow while carrying my second brother in her arms. Until then, my mother always assured me: “Your father has gone on a long journey and will bring you a beautiful doll.” And every day I waited for my father to come sooner, to bring the doll of my dreams in a white satin dress with golden curls. But then I found out that this waiting is far away, it is not even close to me.

My school days, for some reason, when I remember them, a bitter excitement sticks in my throat. I studied well at school, I went out with girls well, I loved all my friends very much until that day, until that day when I found out the truth…

One day, while returning from school, my friend Zuhra told her that her father would bring her a doll tomorrow. At that moment, I accidentally sent: “Dad will soon bring me a doll with golden hair and a white satin dress.” All the girls looked at me and squealed with laughter. Then Zuhra: “Nuria, why didn’t the people in your house tell you that the dead never come back?!” – he said. I shouted bitterly, “My father is alive, he just went on a long journey. He will definitely come back soon.” “Your father died in a car accident, the whole neighborhood knows it, they just didn’t tell you,” Zuhra continued, looking at the girls proudly, may come”.

Zuhra pushed past me and continued on her way, the girls followed her. I stood in the middle of the road, feeling nothing, with two drops of bitter tears in my heart.

It wasn’t me who cried then. The past years

I hate myself when I remember. At that time, I cried to my loving mother, who was raising us with so much grief. As if the sufferings I saw were not enough, I was upset with everyone in our house and suffered even more without talking to anyone. Oh, mother, if only that thin little girl of yours would understand you.

 Over time, I got used to everything. My mother was the reason I got used to it, they tried their best not to tell my father. Allah created the mother in such a way that her love can melt the stones and her tears can water the dry desert.

 Days passed one after the other. The absence of our family breaks my heart. Even though she has two children who have learned to walk, she does not stay at home.

 One day, when I came home from playing with my friends, my mother was gathering things.

Thinking that we were going to my grandmother’s house, I asked my mother and looked at them. But for some reason, my mother did not speak, a serious look on her face and a painful look in her eyes. After putting her things in her bags, she kissed me and my sleeping brothers and went out. Despite her grandmother’s calls, she strongly resisted and walked towards the gate. My grandfather stood quietly in front of the door, not saying a word. At that moment, the sound of a car was heard. My mother said to my grandfather and grandmother, “My children, I will come back as soon as I earn enough money, don’t worry,” and left. My grandmother cried as much as she could, and my grandfather cried without it.

At that moment, I realized that my mother was going away, leaving me and my brothers and going far away. I ran as hard as I could. But the car was going far. I wish I had wings and I could fly. “Mom, don’t go, don’t go, what will we do without you, I’ll never hurt you again, I won’t even ask you to get a new dress, I promise, don’t leave.” That’s all I wanted to say. Unfortunately, the faster I ran, the faster the car disappeared. I sat down breathless. People were looking at the little girl who was staring at a point in the middle of the road in the narrow street of the village. I didn’t cry anymore, I didn’t think about anything. After some time, my grandmother came and tried to take me away, I didn’t get up. But when my grandmother started crying, I didn’t know if I felt sorry for them, but an unnatural force forced me to get up. In front of me I hugged my grandmother who was crying. I fell asleep soon after I got home.

In my dream, I saw that my mother was cutting hot bread for me, and when I reached out to take it, she suddenly disappeared. , they washed. I calmed down and fell asleep again.

For some reason, it rained heavily on the day I left.

 Perhaps Mother Nature shed bitter tears, unable to cope with the troubles that await us.

Then it turned out that my mother went to work abroad so that I and my brothers could grow up like no other. After a week, she got a job and started calling us every day. He asked about our studies and the condition of my brothers. He said that he would not stay long and would come back to us soon. We got used to this life. Every two or three months, my grandfather would go to the market and buy new clothes for my brothers and me. We were very happy. Unfortunately, we didn’t know that these clothes were coming from our mother, who works day and night far away from us. Maybe we didn’t understand.

 Months after months, years after years, and only a few days left for me to turn twelve years old. The day before my birthday, my mom called me and asked if I should send a birthday present or skip the birthday. I liked both suggestions. I asked them to skip my birthday for some reason. Because for as long as I can remember, I have never celebrated my birthday by inviting my friends to our house.

The next day, around noon, my uncle came in with a lot of things. He gave the things he had brought to my grandmother and started helping to set the table in the yard while carrying my little brother in one hand. I was very happy. Very happy.

My grandmother quickly started cooking. My grandfather went to get meat from the butcher uncle in our neighborhood.By evening, everything was ready. My uncle went to set up his camera. Carrying all kinds of gifts, first our relatives and then my friends  started coming in. I was wearing a pink dress that day. This dress was made for my birthday. I was very happy. At that moment my uncle called me. My mother was asking for me on the phone. I picked up the phone. “Happy birthday my daughter, may I see your wedding,” he said with difficulty. “Thanks, honey, okay,” I said. I was in a hurry to play.I wish I could go back to those moments when I knew that I was talking to my mother for the last time, when I felt that I was hearing her beloved, kind voices for the last time… I would never give up the phone, I was ready to talk for hours. Unfortunately, life continued in its judgment.

The birthday was in full swing. My uncle used to record our every situation on the camera without melting. Blowing out the candles, playing with my friends happily and laughing, and the leftovers of food on the faces of my two brothers after eating various sweets were all recorded on one camera. To send to my mother. (Unfortunately, we lost one of these pictures before they reached my friend)

After we had four meals, my uncle was raising a glass to make a wish in the circle of relatives, suddenly the phone rang, he picked up the phone, his face changed into a pitiful look, and the glass in his hand fell to the ground. everyone was shocked and stiffened. My uncle was silent. My aunt, who was as pale as a cloth, picked up the phone and suddenly screamed and cried while talking to an unknown person. At that moment, my uncle, whose face was shining with kindness, passed away. Thus the whole existence has seen the happiest day that has been presented to me at least once.

It took it and ended it with his sad and at the same time sad news.

A year later, we were separated from my grandfather, and then from my grandmother, who was our only support.

Now the real life was pulling us into its grip like a raging sea. In those years, the pages of my childhood were closed and I was slowly walking towards the door of adolescence…

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