Late pigeons - страница 8

“Stop selling bread, what do you miss?” – once she said to her daughter.

“I am idling at home, mommy, is selling bread embarrassing? The money I earned I am using for myself, buying books, I can give you as well…”

“I don’t need your money, just stop it. You are already a big girl, every day we have guests at home regarding you, and it wouldn’t good if they say that you sell bread in the bazaar…you see me?”

“Their tongues are not subject to them, is a person selling bread not a good man? Furthermore, I am always before the eyes of everybody. Have you heard something bad about me?” – Raykhona asked.

“No, no, my darling, I am just worrying about you… Just want to say…you’d better take care of yourself…my girl!”

Although her mother warned, Raykhona continued selling brad in the bazaar after her lessons, and used to do her lessons till midnight. And then she would sleep after a tiresome day…

A father and a son may not tell their secrets to each other in a family, but, on the contrary, a mother and a daughter can trust each other. A daughter learns many unspeakable things from her mother, tells her secrets to her mother and gets many useful advice. Masturakhon and Raykhona were of the same kind of mother and daughter. Once Raykhona told her mother about Otabek after having hesitated a lot. She told about the first meeting, about his smartness, but she hid that she had fallen in love. It was because of her shyness. But the mother understood everything.

“Daughter, you are our only child in the family, forget about Tashkent, you know that we have a lot of smart guys in our neighborhood, each one smarter than the other, with wealth families. Will I have to seek the way of Tashkent every time when I want to see you?” – Masturakhon reprimanded her daughter. “Now a family from Kircha is wooing you to marry their son, their son won a Green Card Lottery and in America now, and working as a lawyer there. They say he erns thirty thousand dollars a month. I would have married you to him, but America is far away, if you go far from me, I will not endure that…”

“Mommy, Tashkent is not far away. If you catch Afrasiyob train it will get you there in two hours…”

“No, I will marry you here, in our makhalla. Do you know shop holder Ato? He has more than 10 shops in Siyab Bazaar. They also reauest you for their son, if you agree you can meet him, and we can make the deal with them…”

“He hasn’t a definite job, he spends all he earns in the street, do you want to spend my life with him?” – Raykhona said sorrowfully.

“OK, then. What about the grandson of the Valikhodjaevs. He is good guy. He knows five languages, travels to 3-4 countries every month. He has done his PhD…”

“No, I will not marry him. I do not like being buried in the books…”

“You keep rejecting everybody I say. What have you seen in that guy from Tashkent? We don’t know him, his relatives. Your father will not agree, as well. There is another guy from the neighborhood. The son of Academician Vohid Abdullo’s sister. They also want you. We can start preparations if you consent.”

Having seen her daughter peeling at one point Masturakhon went out of the room being upset of that her daughter wasn’t hearing her advice.

Raykhona also doesn’t want to go to Tashkent, who wants to go far from relatives, friends? But life has its own rules, precepts of hearts and dreams. Does love not mean marrying a person who you adore, having kids from him, living with the beloved person? Raykhona entered her room with these thoughts and murmured to herself: “You stand between two fires, Raykhona”. She put her head on the pillow and went asleep.