”  The Algorithm of Will  “

As twilight fell over the busy streets of Tashkent, Zohid sat under the flickering lights of a student dormitory in Chilonzor, tiredly tapping away at his laptop keys. While his roommates had already finished dinner and dived into computer games or endless social media videos, Zohid was battling complex red error messages on his screen. For this young man from the province, life felt like a bridge between two worlds: on one side were the high hopes of his parents back in the village, and on the other, the ruthless demands of the modern IT world.

One day, an uncle who worked in an influential organization called him with an unexpected offer. He promised a significant share of money and a comfortable life until graduation in exchange for simply “closing” a government project. Although Zohid had only 20,000 soums left in his wallet and was wondering what to eat for lunch, and this offer seemed like a “lifesaving ship,” he remembered the lessons he had studied during long nights and why he entered this field. “I’m sorry, uncle, I didn’t come here to close someone else’s ready-made project; I came to build a system from scratch,” he replied firmly. Thus, Zohid’s true test began.

He started freelancing on international platforms, relying on coffee during daytime classes and writing code for foreign clients at night. One night, when the power went out, he took his laptop to a corner of a 24/7 cafe and spent the dawn with a single cup of tea—days like these further sharpened his will. Six months later, at a major startup competition at the university, he presented his agricultural digitalization algorithm, the product of those sleepless nights. His uncle, sitting among the jury, looked away as he realized that Zohid was not a “template-user” but a true “creator.”

Zohid won not only the grand prize but also a job offer from a prestigious American company. Riding the bus home that day, he felt with his entire being that true capital is knowledge; while money and connections are fleeting, a foundation built through hard work serves for a lifetime. He was no longer just a student; he had become a steadfast architect of his own future, staying true to his principles.

Uzbekistan

Toshmamatov Javohir     

My grandfather

I looked out the window and remembered you,

Venus is staring at the star.

I’m crying because I miss you.

Daddy, I miss you.

The distance between us is long,

I want to hear your voice.

Call me if I keep doing it.

Daddy, I miss you.

Patting my head, saying, “My daughter.”

My mountain of trust, my support

May your health be blessed by Allah.

Daddy, I miss you.

Here are the tears in my eyes again.

I’m enduring it in the distance.

Even though my eyes are smiling

Daddy, I miss you.

One day such days will come,

You are proud to call me your daughter.

Everyone still envies you.

Daddy, I miss you.

For Dear Eva Lianou Petropoulou

Dear Eva is a woman, a queen so rare,

the one who makes this world more rich and fair,

poetry is her everlasting flame,

and in her work, there is no end to claim.

She lifts up poets from all lands afar,

their verses shining bright like every star,

she knows no bounds, no borders to her art,

for love’s sweet fragrance flows from all her heart.

For poetry she lives, all souls unite,

her deeds reflect her spirit pure and bright,

for Eva is a woman strong and wise,

who conquers worlds through verses that arise.

She shares her peace across the world so wide,

through poets’ hearts where gentle dreams abide,

and so I thank her deeply, from my soul,

for through her, my own verses reach their goal.

Warm greetings now from Croatia I send,

with humble lines to you, both muse and friend,

may we remain, as we have been till now,

united by her poetic love somehow.

Question to Civilization

‎

‎How long will we stand, civilization?

‎On the verge of being swept away

‎Existence is dissolving

‎The color of blood is losing its color

‎The title of a monster in the body of humanity

‎A vague painful poem on the lips
‎A field of teardrops in the eyes
‎Fire is writing the history of chemical evolution
‎I don’t want a crown, a precious stone;
‎I want the soil under my feet
‎I want the sunrise in my muscles
‎I want to be human once again.
‎
‎How much more waiting, silence?
‎Many skies under the painted sky
‎The sea within the sea, the river within the river
‎Something else within the human being.
‎Continuous skyfall like snowfall
‎Bloodfall instead of waterfall
‎Instead of a heartbeat, gunpowder beats
‎There is no water in the clouds, but blood
‎The number of murders is a sign of arrogance
‎Know that religion does not die, people die.
‎

Mesfakus Salahin is from Bangladesh.

Metamorphosis Moment

It’s an online nightmare

Kafkaesque at its best

Like a Castle out of reach

Caught up in, getting in

Getting by and why

Username and password

The ones you know

Or think you know

So off you go

To who knows where

There’s a site that might

Help, help to verify identity

A six number sequence

From hence we proceed

Or recede, get there, maybe

New name, new password

And then you must verify yet

Again and when you do

You find that you changed those

Back in January and so

You wander, a nameless tramp

Tramping on proper procedures

Waking up a large insect

Guilty of a crime you probably

Did but never noted

Ending up in

An internet death

“Like a dog.”

   Happy Hour

It’s that time

As most nights.

“Get you something?”

Of course

Some nights it’s

Cranberry and seltzer

And a slice of lime.

On more adventuresome

Nights it’s

Some wine, mostly Merlot

And we sit back

Talk about our day

Or the day to come.

It’s almost a ritual

A celebration of sorts

An honor

Our happy hour

When we pretend the happy

Part and sip our way

Into the future.

“Tomorrow we’ll what?”

Or perhaps not

But we know that

We’ll know when

It’s that time

Again. 

    Marching Madness

The game is almost over

The results set

Winners and losers

Waiting for the clock

To celebrate, to escape

Get this last bit over

The fans are restless

Cheering, moaning

Getting ready to leave

Be out in the world again

The world without refs

Without coaches

And times out

Without a clock ticking

Down to a prescribed end

Fans leaving their seats

Becoming a crowd

Hungry, thirsty

Wondering how they

Will ever get home

From all this tangle

With the parking lot

So full and the rest

Of their day so empty.

Trump Deploys ICE Agents to Stand In for Striking Minnesota Doctors

Citing understaffing, improper training and administrative overload, some 28,000 Minnesota physicians have walked out. The gesture was made in sympathy with the almost 400,000 health care workers who staged a work stoppage last Thursday.

In response to this health care emergency, President Donald J. Trump has deployed some 5,000 ICE agents to stand in for the idled physicians. “We can’t have this bullshit,” railed Trump from Mar-a-Lago’s Epstein Lounge today.

“What if there’s an emergency?” he cried. “What is somebody’s suffering from deadly bone spurs or somethin’? Or if he gets a bruise on his hand, or starts fallin’ asleep at meetings and stuff?”

Confusion has been rampant, as poorly trained, unlicensed ICE agents grapple with medical emergencies. In Minneapolis, a pregnant Somali woman visited a hospital in desperate need of medical treatment.

But when the ICE physician was summoned, he immediately demanded identification. According to the agent, “Dr.” Biff Sluggard, a former nightclub bouncer from Keystone, Colorado, who was attracted to the $50,000 ICE recruitment bonus, the woman proved to be a non-citizen, but had a green card.

Slamming the woman to the floor, the doctor/agent arrested her on the spot. Prior to incarceration, the woman was sped by ambulance across the northern border into Canada, for delivery.

This was done, said an ICE spokesperson, to forestall subsequent patient claims of birthright citizenship. “ICE don’t believe in the 14th Amendment,” said Sluggard with a grin.

Emergency responders reacted to a call for help in the downtown Minneapolis area, only to find Jose Ruiz, a father of three small children, who became trapped under an automobile when the jack slipped.

 Deducing that the brown-skinned man, who had no papers, was illegal, they left him as he was and instantly took custody of his children, aged 1-7 years. Last word was that the children were en route to a containment warehouse in Muncie, Indiana.

So far as Humor Times could determine, the man remains trapped under his vehicle. At a community clinic in Rochester, a meaty ICE agent stood guard before the “Whites Only” entrance. Various patients approached the portal and were summarily turned away.

The patients were denied entrance, according to the guard, in order to “forestall contaminating blood lines.” Inside, the physician, who was identified as Dr. K. Noem, was at an adjoining animal shelter next door, executing dogs with a large caliber handgun.

Border Czar Tom Homan told Humor Times that ICE agents are a “natural fit” to replace “slothful and lazy physicians” who forgo work. “ICE agents,” rasped Homan, “are first and foremost enforcers: of immigration law, removal of felons and others who violate U.S laws.

“They conduct criminal Investigations in a manner similar to the way a doctor catalogs symptoms. We also conduct document inspections: you ever tried to get health care service without providing ID?” Homan asked. “Ain’t gonna happen.

“An’ we surveill and collaborate with other agencies. ICE agents,” said Homan, “can be used as a force multiplier. We do this,” he explained, “by stepping into duties that do not require doctors’ specialized screening training, like reading X-rays.

“ICE agents won’t be performing major surgery,” he said with a laugh. “I mean, no brain surgery or heart transplants or deliveries of babies. Unless,” he said, raising a thick forefinger, “they’re illegal. In that case, we’ll deliver the little bastard, but separate the child from the parents at birth. We’ll put ’em all in a cage!”

The decision to replace Minnesota doctors with ICE agents came about because of the success of Trump’s deployment of thousands of ICE agents to supplement the depleted roll of TSA agents who have been working at airports without pay.

Some 50,000 TSA workers have gone without a paycheck since DHS funding was denied on February 14. Trump said on Saturday that ICE agents would “do doctoring like no one has ever seen before.”

Trump said this includes “the immediate arrest of all Illegal Immigrants who have come into our Country, with heavy emphasis on those from Somalia.” Minneapolis, a hotbed of Somali occupation, is host to more than 107,000 such individuals.

Trump, who has often shown a flair for naming his various programs and policies, was asked what he’d call his Minnesota-based ploy. After a reflective pause, he replied, “I think I’ll call it The Final Solution. Kinda rolls off the tongue, don’t it?” he asked.