Page 61 - July 2021 Litterateur
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Sherzod Artikov,


                          Sherzod Artikov was born in 1985 in the city of Marghilan of Uzbekistan. He graduated from
                          Fergana  Polytechnic  institute  in  2005.  He  was  one  of  the  winners  of  the  national  literary
                          contest  “My  Pearl  Region  “in  the  direction  of  prose  in  2019.  In  2020,  his  first  book  “The
                          Autumn’s Symphony “ was published in Uzbekistan by publishing house “Yangi Asr Avlodi”
                          .  In  2021,  his  works  were  published  in  the  anthology  books  called  “  World  Writers“  in
                          Bangladesh, “Asia sings” and “ Mediterranean Waves “ in Egypt, “Emerging horizons” in
                          India, “ Healing through verses” in Canada in English language.
                          Also he participated in many literature conference around the globe and won many awards.

                          His works are published in several magazines from different parts of the world and has been
                          translated to many languages.

                                                               Waltz of the Rain

                     -What happened to your leg?
                     Since the door was slightly open, I didn’t take notice Nazokat's coming into the room.

                     -Sometimes it hurts much, - I wrinkled my forehead massaging my left knee.
                     Nazokat  took  off  her  black  scarf  and  burgundy  suit  then  hung  her  handbag  on  the  hook  in  the
                     wardrobe.  Today  she  appeared  more  enthusiastic  than  yesterday,  her  exhaustion  vanished
                     somewhere and it was noticeable that she was burning with desire to start her lesson as soon as
                     possible – she immediately sat at the piano.
                     -Beethoven would be pleased with me, - told her taking score in hand, and took a look at this – I’m
                     playing his sonatas much both here and at home.
                       I stood up after bending my knees a few times.
                     -Little time left till the contest, we must manage.
                     Nazokat ran her fingers over the piano keys like a child.
                     -Looking at the score, I play without mistakes, but when I play by heart, I start to make mistakes, -
                     she said putting the score back.
                        After a while, the piano “Belarus “ started to make a sound like yesterday, the sonata dedicated to a
                     girl named Elise resonated through the room. I looked at Nazokat silently, she was trying not to look
                     at the score. As her fingers running over the keys gently, she focused her mind on play.
                     -This time you made mistakes three times, - I told standing behind her.
                     Nazokat looked at me inquiringly. I showed where the mistakes were from the score.
                     -You’d better go to the doctor- said Nazokat looking at my left knee,vaguely bent in pain. –I train by

                     myself here.
                     -No need – I told nearing the window and viewed windy outside.
                     I trained with Nazokat till lunchtime, the traditional competition organized annually in the city culture
                     center among young pianists was not more than two days away. We had to train more because of
                     short time.
                     -Sometimes  I  want  to  tear  the  score  –told  Nazokat  before  sitting  when  we  came  in  café  near  the
                     college – It disturbs me.
                     -You’re making mistakes without them, you see.
                     -You don’t do any mistakes – she continued – I will also adapt.

                                                                 Litterateur                                              61

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