Page 49 - May 2021 Litterateur
P. 49

In his diary, he wrote down he was from a kind of
                  city called Marghilanwhich is beautifully situated                                     Short Story

                  in  a  valley  hemmed  in  by  lofty  mountains.  I  was                                 The Tale of Berlin

                  reading about my grandfather’snative land for the                                             Sherzod Artikov

                  first  time  and  had  overwhelming  desire  to  get
                  thorough knowledge about it. I cravedfull details                                   similar  to  his  name  that

                  about  the  land  from  my  grandfather  in-depth,                                  reminds his birthplace. It

                  however  tense  atmosphere  at  home  didn’t  give                                  looked  as  if  a  quirk  of
                  me a chance to do it.
                                                                                                      fate.      Thanks         to     this
                                                                                                      name,            we         weren’t
                  There was a picture of my grandfather with Ruzi                                     counted  as  a  German

                  Nazar  wearing  Nazi  army  uniform  on  the  wall  of                              and  thought  we  come
                  our dining room. It doesn’t matter during holidays                                  there         from         faraway

                  or around the dinner table, my grandfather didn’t                                   villages of Turkey.

                  say  even  a  word,  remained  tight-lipped  with

                  impassive  face.  The  set  of  his  state  and  solemn                             While  talking  about  this,
                  appearance  made  me  believe  he  would  say                                       Mushtariy broke down in

                  nothing.  He  especially  was  reticent  about  his                                 tears.  Her  grandfather

                  homeland, he couldn’t bear such questions in my                                     didn’t  come  back  from
                                                                                                      the  war.  Perhaps  he
                                                                                                      perished from one of the
                  Before having a meal, he always whispered grace                                     shots  by  my  grandfather
                  in  a  language  that  was  unknown  to  me,  prayed                                or llegios or Nazis.

                  facing west on a mat with fringes around the edge

                  5 times in a day, but kept himself away from his                                    -It  is  80  miles  from  your

                  motherland  and  memories  related  to  it  all  the                                grandfather's  birthplace
                  time. In order to rid of these recollections, he got                                to  my  motherland-  told

                  married to a German woman, brought up my dad                                        Mushtariy  after  calming

                  as a German, found German fiancée for him. Even                                     down.

                  he  raised  and  taught  me  based  upon  German
                  language,  culture,  traditions.  Speaking  another                                 By  talking  with  her,  a

                  language  was  prohibited  in  our  home  even  if                                  burning  desire  to  know

                  there  is  no  need  to  it.  Since  we  all  became                                about that city was being
                  German to the bones thanks to my grandfather’s                                      enhanced               in         me.

                                                                                                      Marghilan,                Andijan,

                                                                                                      Fergana… Mushtariy told
                  Sometimes  I  worked  out  for  myself:  he  was                                    about          every          lovely
                  extremely  irate  and  opposed  the  political  unrest                              hamlet  surrounded  by

                  and  condition  of  his  motherland,  so  he  assured                               majestic                 mountain

                  himself that he didn't get the blame for it in a way                                scenery  in  a  sublime

                  that he behaved. Despite his wrath, irritation and                                  village,  the  traditions,
                  displeasure,  I  couldn’t  fully  appreciate  why  he                               custom,      way  of  life  of

                  named my father Bakhtiyor, and me Isfandiyor                                        people  there  with  great
                  Litterateur                                          49                             enthusiasm.

                             REDEFINING WORLD
                          EDITED BY SHAJIL ANTHRU
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