Ingratitude Short Story

Don’t get upset, if you gave a birth to a girl,
As happiness is related to a girl.



Today, Badriddin woke up before his old father, just at the time, when the pleasing and gentle voice of mullah in village Sabziharv (where Tajik residents worship 12 imams) was inviting males and young men to pray in a mosque. He calmly coughed, knocked the door of the charcoal’s storing place and said with a low voice in a questioning manner: - Sahib shall we go to the mosque? – Why not? – I will come now my son, I’ll come just in a minute…
Starting from last year’s autumn since today an old man - Obidshoh was ill and an old woman – Mohinav took care of him. His old wife at this moment was feeding him with flour porridge and chicken soup and made him to visit mosque, but if she casually any day in  goes for visiting parturient woman or any other place, and left an old man with his two daughters-in-law that day his pressure inevitably got high and started to moan and groan a lot. An old woman – Mohinav carried a necked jug full of warm water to a toilet and went to prepare a tea. An old man rolled up one’s sleeves and began to commit an ablution. He was praying to himself and at the same time all his thoughts and prayers were about his beloved son Badriddin, but at once he consoled himself and said indistinctly: “Hope on God, that everything will be ok. I should tell an old woman, that she must move to attics with our two daughters-in-law. It is shady and cool place out there at nighttime. Despite the fact that this year the spring was cold and rainy, the last week is going to be warm. A woman finds a common language with a woman. Badriddin’s sister-in-law – Orostamoh must take them under the wing. Moreover, both bedroom and Nuriddin’s kids’ rooms are big and comfortable. I need to tell Nuriddin that after all the stuff with a cabin he’ll need to plough the dry crop land, which is behind the mountain pass of Gardanga and pick some buckwheat, ferrule and mushrooms.  Notwithstanding to the fact that six daughters of Badriddin are from Kabul, nevertheless they notice a little bit the taste of Sabzikharv’s buckwheat and mushrooms. Two days ago little cockered Shakilo and Suhaylo have fought for rhubarb in front of the foreign guests. They burst into tears so much that Badriddin felt very klutzy because of his daughters’ behavior. The French guest passed Shakilo a sweet pastille and his wife took out of her pocket a crisped tucker and gave it to Suhaylo.  But they didn’t even put a glance at tucker and sweet pastille; they were rubberring just at rhubarbs and buckwheats, which were on a table cloth. – They are town-dwellers, town-dwellers…, they saw a lot of goodies, but saw just a little of edible greens. Badriddin and Malolay lived in clover with their six daughters in Kabul. Girls’ father had a leading occupation at ministry during the period of Najibullo’s democratic governance, but during mujohids’ reign he lost his job and as his unemployed colleague sahib Samangoni said, he became “depreciated just like a plane tree”. Badriddin went to every single office and institution without any money and was leaving those places in disappointment, without any results. Only after the time, when peace was reigning in a country and ministries started their work, “work was divided among the workers”. His comrade and friend Samangoni found a job at one of the French offices at Bomiyon. After one month Samangoni invited Badriddin to Bomiyon. Starting from the first day of his work Badriddin found a way to the heart of international organization’s chairman – sahib Michelle through his honest labor and knowledge of English language. After half a year this foreign institution began its activity in Sabziharv and Badriddin became a chairman of this institution. Within one month Badriddin doesn’t eat and sleep well, during this period thousands of farmers get wheat and potato seeds, mineral fertilizers and effective sprouts from his institution for free or almost free and blessed the head of agriculture department Badriddini Obid with kind prayers. 
One month ago his wife and daughters moved from Kabul to Sabziharv. Nuriddin, Obidshoh younger son brought his children and sister-in-law from Kabul town to Roghiston by “mutar” – passenger car, and then two whole weeks he took them to village on horseback, on donkeys and by foot, so they were in difficulty toil.
Badriddin didn’t tell anything to his mother concerning his wife, but an old man at one glance has noticed that his daughter-in-law from Kabul must be pregnant. Once he heard about the truthfulness and correctness of his expectation from his old wife, while he was giving her a hand in “otashdoni alovga” (domed oven made of clay; made for baking flapjacks), Mohinav said: - My daughter-in-law wants to give a birth to a son. – A kind intention is half of the wealth. I wish I would be able to see the face of my grandson in my old age, - diminishing (lowering) the fire of domed oven said Obidshoh. – My sons are unlucky. Nuriddin has got 4 daughters and Badriddin has 6 daughters, - told Mohinav blowing the ashes from the surfaces of flapjacks. – If Badriddin shall have a son, we’ll kill an ox (an ox for crop fields) and give that meat (food) as alms. – Hold on man, there is no need to drum before the wedding (prov.). – No, my heart tells me that, I shall have a grandson (a boy). – What if, no? – Why? – Why are you repeatedly asking why man? You see, Davlatmoh gave birth to her son Rahmiali only after the birth of her seventh daughter and gave birth to her son Talabshoh only after birth of her 9th daughter. – So, you mean that he’ll be able to have a son just like Talabshoh father – Sarvarshoh after birth of his ninth daughter, right? – God knows! – The health of my daughter-in-law is most important thing for me. We’ll live to see that day, - said Mohinav in astir. So, their dialogue ended this way.
An old man- Obidshoh could clearly see that Badriddin is unhappy, because he doesn’t have a son. Once he observed a quarrel between his son and his daughter – in – law, when Badriddin anxiously reproached reprimand: You can just give birth to daughters. If I could only know your sons’ infertility,   I would better marry another wife. – I have got daughters because of my good luck. What is the best for a woman- daughter (prov.) If I seem too old for you and you are willing to get married with another woman, you must know that the other woman will also give you only a daughter and twins (girls), then you’ll know who has got sons’ infertility indeed, me or you.
An old man felt concerned about hard words of his daughter-in-law. Such haughtiness of his daughter-in-law wasn’t expected at all. – She is “Kabuli” (from Kabul) you know, kabuli. It would be much better, if Badriddin would get married to a “Sabziharvi” (from Sabziharv) girl. Our women never give a squeak, even if we beat them with stick or a bough. As for now, this is the fate of my employed and educated. He is sad, because his daughter-in-law was just the daughter of one poor laundress, whose children have never even seen the school and medrese (high Muslim institution).
After the moment, when Obidshoh’s 18 yrs. old son was going to leave him and go to Kabul, he entrusted his destiny to God. At that period within a country was just occurring war and opposition between government and Islamic forces. The true believer – Obidshoh was regularly visiting the mosque. Two or three times familiar and unfamiliar people asked him about Badriddin. First he just pretended that didn’t hear anything, but thereafter he shortly replied: - My son studies at one of Kabul’s medrese. People perceived Obidshoh’s lies as truth, but after some time, when one guy, who was a great troublemaker came from Kabul and told the village inhabitants that Badriddin became a Agricultural University’s chairman, and the period of his bitter lot begun. Just like before Obidshoh was still perseveringly rejecting everything and said that his son is the student of high governmental institution and through this obstinate action he was just increasing the wrath of leader-instigator – one-eyed Vakhobkhon. Finally his stubbornness led to anger and wrath of Vakhobkhon, which were burning him inside and this time he didn’t give Obidshoh a light torture (punishment) he ordered to put Obidshoh inside the huge basket and tie him up there vertically, and roll him from Sabziharv’s hill and all across Zangiyon. Obidshoh was inside the basket and his hands and legs were knotted and tied very tightly and the basket was falling from one rock to another and was flitting from one ditch to another and he was screaming out loudly: Kill me infidels. My death is on your conscience. Your hands are dyed with my blood. My son studies at town. He’s not illiterate and doesn’t go for naught like you. He’ll come one day and will avenge me.
The half broken basket got closer to half watery lands of Zangiyon, it damped one’s ardor and bumped into the trunk of mulberry-tree with a low speed and stopped at one step further from the tree. Among the crowd of men’s jolly company only two old brave and virtuous men made up one’s mind to release half dead Obidshoh, whose head and body were broken out of basket and by the help of two little boys took him to Zangiyon.
For one whole month Obidshoh had been a recumbent sick. Another half year he had psychological disorder, so he stopped every stranger and told whispering: - My son is coll. ruler. Just be patient for a while and you’ll see that my son will get official dignitary in Kabul and returning back to Sabziharv he will subvert hypocrites’ (two-faced person) authority.  Lame Obidshoh’s words like an arrow score a hit. Badriddin after graduating University found a job in Kabul and thereafter became the owner of a house in of the tidy areas of Kabul. After 15 years of separation, exactly during the period of ripping mulberry and mowing down the wheat, the time when the snow on the passes and mountainous trails of Lozarob melt a little from pathway of deer’s – Duob one experienced hunter came to Sabziharv, Obidshoh put household’s duties on Nuriddin and two fellow-villagers, who were going for a trip to Kabul.
After two whole weeks Obidshoh together with his fellow-villagers have reached Kabul; they were moving sometimes by foot and sometimes by car and hardly found Badriddin’s house, after facing hundreds of challenges. His son and daughter-in-law greeted him happily. His daughter-in-law’s smooth speech and nice behavior amazed Obidshoh and his Sabziharv fellow-villagers, who were without kith and kin & were shelter less. At breakfast Malolay once has observed that her father-in-law doesn’t know how to eat an orange, and then she gave one ripe flame-colored orange, divided it into liths, took away its seeds and gave them to an old man. Badriddin talked to his father and fellow-villagers until a late night, but because of his frequent yawn his old father noticed that, even though there were left untold secrets, but an old man was forced to go to his bedroom. Obidshoh’s extremely exhausted fellow-villagers lied on clean and light beds, which were placed on cottonous Iranian carpet on the floor of the guesthouse and fell asleep.
For no reason Obidshoh couldn’t fall asleep and he immerse oneself into sweet thoughts: - It’s good that Badriddin came for beginning his studies out of Sabziharv’s border, otherwise he would also be sleeping in old house in hard mountainous conditions chasing a donkey just like Nuriddin. This time he remembered the amusing speech of the only teacher, who has survived after wars his fellow-villager Nazar Husayn, who once said the following near the mosque: - Our Sabziharv is a soap of science. Educated and well-bred person in our village because of the books and libraries’ lack will forget his knowledge and science and it will be erased as a dirt, that disappears from bed’s surface after washing it with a soap. Someone from the crowd supported him, saying: - Be “Sabziharvi” (from Sabziharv), but don’t stay in Sabziharv.
An old man dried his wet hands with a handkerchief, coming out from the toilet and looked at the sky. Sunrise was just about to lighten the skies. The village seemed calm and patient. Obidshoh took a deep breath, looking at peace and freedom of the country and in a lame way went to the direction of the old house. Before reaching that place one thought of revenge appeared in his mind and told to himself: - See the contradiction, some of the hypocrites have called Obidshoh a traitor & called Badriddin as Lenin’s follower, as for now they get wheat seeds from the hands of his son-  communists’ chick and bring teachers from far-situated Shugnan for their children. It serves them right! These narrow-minded people! Species of educated and well-bred people was torn out and it was clearly seen that from 10-12 mullahs and mosque workers nothing will work out, so they go to far-situated Shugnan and bring teachers of Chemistry and Math to Sabziharv.
- Sahib, are you ready? – I need to wear my “mahsi” (boots made from skin of animals).
After the daybreak namaz (prayer), two kind-hearted men greeted six “Roghi” (from Rogh) guests with tea and sweets. The magnetizing conversation between 2 hospitable men with Roghi gold diggers involved Badriddin’s attention. – Isn’t there gold in Rogh that you’re coming to Sabziharv? – Oh brother, we are just working in non-irrigated lands. Last year in Roghiston was a strong draught and our farmers’ crop was totally destroyed. If there wouldn’t be river and valley in the country, then from where can be taken the gold? We find gold facing lots of challenges only in this stony and pebble land of Omu river’s banks – responded the grubby and gipsy-like man, that looking at his physical appearance it seemed that he must be a leader of 5 other gold-diggers. Just like people of our neighboring village shallow Zargariyon you get more profit from gold digging rather than from getting harvest and crop, isn’t it? – No, why do you think so? If comes a rainy year, the Rogh’s wheat can be distributed to everyone, during the draught we’ve got very bad condition. – Therefore, we – mountaineers have one proverb, “don’t give your daughter to a worker of dry lands”. From hearing this proverb Sabziharvi and Roghi people’s laughter loudly sounded from the mosque.
Blossoming spring of highways has passed quickly and said farewell to people. The warm spring sozzle people with precious smell of fallen mulberries from garden and embraces the whole Sabziharv. Badriddin just like before was dealing and walking with farmers and collocutors of the province. As he had plenty of work to do, he even didn’t fully feel the quick passing period of spring. An old man - Obidshoh time to time was binding baskets with twigs for the sake of the unborn grandson, searching a name for him. – The boy is on the way to come, his name is Muzaffar. – Which name would better suit him? – Shakarhusayn or Nabothusayn? – No, Dodiali, or Dodagiikhudo will be better. – No, I think these names aren’t suitable. You know, our people can deform this great name by abbreviating it, saying – Daikhudo. – Or we can name him Mavlodod? – Names like Saidhasan and Saidkozim are also good. Every name has its unique meaning. We’ll better name him Humoyun. – Or Nekpay? Or Navid? Or Muborakshoh? – I found, I guess I found a name – from his sarcastically pronounced words he was frightened and looked around, then rubbed his palms and excepted a thought coming to his mind and Obidshoh rejecting it said to himself: “Water’s inside the jug and we’re walking here thirsty” . My life will end soon. What is bad, if I would name my grandson- Obidshoh? – Obidshoh and that’s it. There’s no need for another name. Even though I am uneducated farmer, who didn’t see the world, I have never even hurt an ant. I didn’t work for government and didn’t work for Jihad. Like other leaders-instigators I didn’t make use of poor people’s rights and haven’t created a castle-like building for two estates. I have never been a jimsonweed’s cultivator and drugs’ dealer. I didn’t get anything from household implements and material world, only this ordinary grandpa’s house, three cows and ten goats together with 3 hectares of land and 2 mulberry gardens. Me and my wife had only bread and onion and “opened forehead” (didn’t had anything). If a stranger was knocking my door, asking for milk, I would give him a butter, if would ask for sour milk, I would even give him a cream. I needed barley bread and was surviving by eating inedible mulberries throughout a mortal world. I didn’t draw the sword against someone and never bitted someone with poisonous words. I followed admonitions of my father and chose asceticism and piousness. Let my grandson be virtued, abstinent, ascetic and pious and I will find peace and calmness in another world.
Mohinav was in petto was feeding two hen and a young cock. Once, when she was feeding her favorite hen and a young cock inside an empty coop and her sahib like a lath fallen from the roof appeared in front of her and scared her. – Woman, you fatten your hens, huh? – Yes, I am doing it for your Kabuli daughter-in-law. – For Malolay? – Yes, for whom else? Man, I am telling you that don’t you see how poor Malolay reached Sabziharv through many challenges. Her unborn child is her tenth kid, right? – Tenth? – Yes, tenth, thanks God that six of them are alive, but four of them passed away. My only hope is on Tajik midwife, who’s in Nusay hospital. Our daughter-in-law is strong and reasonable person, but everything depends on God’s will. Giving birth demands lots of pain and suffer. I hope that everything will be fine. I hope.
In the early morning the whispering sound of Mohinav awakened Obidshoh. – Man wake up and go to Nuriddin’s room. Our daughter-in-law has dilating pains (labor pains). An old man didn’t ask anything and rapidly wore his clothes and put on turban and went out of the house.
Badriddin was nervously smoking half burnt cigarette and was walking onwards and backwards in the yard. Obidshoh entered Nuriddin’s room, but didn’t find him. He asked Badriddin’s elder daughter, where her uncle went. – He went to Nusay. My sahib told uncle Nuriddin to go to hospital and bring Tajik midwife, - said Shikebo with a sweet Kabuli accent. – He did a good job. For a while Obidshoh leaned unto a pillar of the house, he calmly and motionlessly glanced at the house ceiling. Suddenly he ran out of the house in a quick childish manner, as if a flea has bitten him. – Sahib, where do you rush? Your tea’s waiting for you – loudly said Shikebo. – Dear, I’ll go to my son-in-law - Hijronhusayn’s house. If your uncle will ask, tell him where I went. – Okay, sahib.
In Hijronhusayn’s yard in the angle Arafamoh – Obidshoh’s daughter was holding a long black stone and was grinding up a dry mulberry in stony grinder. Seeing her father in a early morning in the yard she hurriedly covered her head and forehead with a big scarf and said: - Good morning dad. – Is everything okay there at home? – Yes, everything’s fine. – Where is Sahib Hijroni? – He went for watering the maize lands. – Should I call him? – Yes, please. After ten minutes Hijroni entered the yard. He dropped aside his shovel and kissed his father-in-law’s hand in a respectful manner and asked with a smile on his face: - Sahib, is everything quite (fine) at home? – Yes, everything’s ok. – Did you drink some tea? – Yes, of course. If it is so, then you must visit our nomad camp (mountain pasture) at Huvddara in summer. You’ll bring quickly our cow with a white spot on its forehead from mountain pasture to our village. – Ok, I’ll do it sahib. You’re always coming and leaving hurriedly. - Ok. – Now, I gotta go, Good bye. – Good bye.
Until the breakfast Malolay suffered from labor pains. Being ashamed of her mother-in-law and frightened from her neighbors-newsmongers she didn’t even whimper. She clenched ones teeth and just like a wriggly snake crept and bitted her lips from the pain. Her mother-in-law left her for a moment with Arafamoh, went outside and looked at the narrow path, which was leading to Nusay. Since Nuriddin left, there were no news from him and the midwife. She entered the house and begin to cook a kind of porridge and halva (sweet paste), she was trying to calm herself, but the cooking appliances were falling out of her hands and poor Mohinav couldn’t take away a glance from the road, she was exhausted and desperate, she was running from home to the yard just like a hen inanely and purposelessly. Once Mohinav heard the sound of neighing (horse), sat on “nakh” – the earthen platform of the house used for sleeping & breathe out with relief. The midwife, whose name was Rezagul, just according to her name’s meaning was diminutive and well-proportioned, she wore a tajik dress and held a box with medicine, after sliding down from a horse she hurriedly asked (women) neighbors’ affairs and said: - Where is the expectant mom?
After three hours the cry of a baby could be heard from Obidshoh’s house. Mohinav hurriedly entered Nuriddin’s room. Under the pretext of something she has sent Badriddin and Nuriddin’s girls to the yard and said: - Man, our daughter-in-law gave a birth to a daughter. The baby-girl is a premature infant and is just 7 months. If we would not call this midwife from that side of river, we could lose our daughter-in-law. Obidshoh didn’t say a single word; he went outside with a gloomy face and sorrowful heart. He asked where Nuriddin went. – He went to aunt Arafamoh’s house – replied Shikebo. Obidshoh saw Nuriddin at Hijroni’s house, while he was drinking a tea and he told him with obstinacy: - Sonny you need to ride your horse and go to mountain pasture of Huvddara. Bring our black nanny goat from shepherd Nazriali’s side. If you’ll meet on the road back Hijroni, tell him never bring our cow here. We’ll use a cow for other purpose. – Dad, why do you rush so much? -At least let the sweat of my horse dry a little bit. – No, I said stand up and go there this instant. We’ve got limited time. Nuriddin noticed his dad’s stubbornness and therefore he didn’t say anything, he left his full cup of tea and ridded a horse. Soon he put his feet inside the foot-stalls, beat the sides of exhausted and sweaty horse – Samand with his legs and forced it to run fast.
Two weeks after mountain pasture a bad news came to a village. The shepherd-Nazriali with six cows, during a rainy Friday left under rapid stream (heavy rain) and died. Nuriddin together with young men of his village went to Huvddara to bring Nazriali’s dead body. There they have found Nazriali’s friend – Safdarhusayn, who burst into tears. He said with eyes full of tears and a trembling voice: - I brought the cattle from pastureland and saw that 2 oxes of uncle Obidshoh and 4 calfs of Sherali- the head of medrese were absent. Nazriali went there to bring them. Suddenly a heavy rain began. Nazriali was leading the cows and got close to the highway’s village Zoki that can be seen from this mountain pasture. At that moment I heard the loud voice of a heavy rain and saw how a rapid stream washed away deceased Nazriali with six devilish unfortunate cows. I don’t remember what had happened afterwards. Surprised and sad men consoled Safdarhusayn and went to the place of accident. – Nuriddin are those foul cow both yours? – biliously bitted sad Nuriddin with his poisonous words their neighbor - dunderhead Jorubkash. – Didn’t you hear what Safdarhusayn told right now, - ragingly said Nuriddin. Both cows are ours, plus our cow with white spot on its forehead.
Getting close to the place of heavy rain and accident saw bloody head of a cow with white spot on its forehead inside the silt full of stones, but from seeing this picture his gloomy face was brightened with smile. He sat down and embraced the broken-horned head of his cow. Thereafter getting a reminiscence of young, deceased Nazriali with a serious gesture raised two hands in a prayer and said quietly: Oh God, Creator, let Nazriali rest in peace. Amen. But it’s good that our cow is foul and dead now. This is our ingratitude, which we’ve joked with doing alms – said to himself Nuriddin with a malevolent (sarcastic) smile on his face.


Author Dawoodshakh Suleimanshakh


Translated from Russian by Madina Ardabaeva