Мўминжон сулаймонов норгул момо (ҳикоя)

"We'll take care of it ourselves if we smell it," they say, sometimes jokingly.
Various excuses are found. One reason is that they gather in the neighborhood. All innocent, all innocent. No one knows who started the fight. One day I will spend discussing this scandal. But neither the guilty nor the guilty are found. Because no one will admit guilt. On such days, the counselor also went to bed, claiming to be ill. Now all the work is left to me. I'm still running there, I'm still running here. I will not forget my work. My attention span increases. I run from morning till night, and the work is not over. All my chores in the yard were left. I bought a place for a new yard and started construction ...
I wonder if some people have no patience, no gratitude, no honesty. There are many who ask for help. A brother who has a car at home has prepared a document, and I have to get help, ”he said. A sister who works in Russia with her two sons came asking for help.
"Aren't your sons sending money?" I ask.
"He doesn't die by touching my sons' money. When he comes home, he asks for them one by one," she said. The more you complain, the less you want to help. For six months I was the head of the neighborhood. Some seniors come, I’m a grandson, I can’t say no at all.
Those were the days when I was very anxious. News came that Norgul was a slave. I went to the old lady with three or four elders. There are only two low houses. It can be called a house in front of the houses that are being built today. One of them is probably lying on its own, with its beds. Clean, as if unused. In the second, you will not believe me, half of the wood up to the ceiling, and the bottom is rotten. The other half is old, stale bread crumbs up to the ceiling. There is no whole bread. The bread crumbs at the bottom were rotten and covered with mold. Now I knew that he had collected the bread crumbs and firewood in his house. I couldn’t hide my surprise. Eshqobil Bobo, the oldest elder in our neighborhood, explained:
- When her husband went to war, she was left with two children: a son and a daughter. Earlier, in 1942, his son died of starvation, and the following year his daughter died of frostbite in the winter. Her husband did not return from the war. Thus, he lost consciousness and became a madman.
This year marks the 70th anniversary of the end of the war. Norgul momo, Norgul Sulu, who was forced to speak by several young men in her virginity, lived like a madman for 70 years. He was unconscious for 70 years. If the war starts again for so many years, the children will not go hungry, they will not freeze to death, ”he said, gathering firewood and loaves of bread.
On the following day, a regular meeting of the mahalla citizens' assembly was held. We discussed ways to solve the problems we had. I told Norgul momo not to be ungrateful. It seemed to me that many, like me, were unaware of our grandmother’s tragic fate, and apparently nodded. Some of our frustrated mothers were sobbing. I stopped and said something else: I still couldn't come to my senses from yesterday's situation.