Бегижан Ахмедов

Страна: Кыргызстан

Автор повести «The Wanderer» («Странник») писатель, историк Ахмедов Бегижан Махмудович родился в 1958 году в Кыргызстанеки. Является членом Правления Национального Союза писателей Кыргызской Республики. В 2021 году принят членом Союза писателей Республики Узбекистан. Почётный профессор Андижанского госуниверситета имени Бабура. Автор более десяти книг, учебно-методических пособий, 300 статей и интервью, а также 22 научных исследований, опубликованных в Кыргызстане и за рубежом. Его книги переведены на более восьми языков мира и получают позитивные рецензии как в Центральной Азии, так и в Европе, США, Египте, Великобритании, и Турции. Автор сценария документального фильма «Духовный наркотик», соавтор пьесы «Джалаледдин Руми». Лауреат нескольких международных и республиканских премий за литературные достижения и активную деятельность по укреплению дружбы народов, пропаганду идей мира и гуманизма. Книга «The Wanderer» («Странник») в Кыргызстане Национальным союзом писателей Кыргызстана официально признан «Самой лучшей книгой 2020 года». На конкурсе книга года «Сибирь-Евразия -2022», проведенной в рамках международного книжного фестиваля в Новосибирске, включен в ТОП-5 «Лучших изданий художественной литературы». На английский язык повесть «Странник» переведен известным филологом, переводчиком Jonathan Campion. Награжден государственными наградами Кыргызстана и Узбекистана.

Country: Kyrgyzstan

Отрывок из перевода книги “The Wanderer

To a mother who has lost her child, oblivion never comes.

Such grief does not grow old. Mourning gowns wear out,

but darkness remains in the heart.

                                                                                    Victor Hugo


… Pride, envy, vanity, cunning, fl attery, malice, guile, backbiting,lying, slander, hypocrisy, and judgment are manifestations that are unique to man.

These qualities keep us away from God, drive faith out of our hearts, prevent us from praying, and rob us of our everlasting bliss.

So why do we humans live and create for ourselves conditions that are not befi tting to the high rank of Man, the «crown of nature»? It is known from the Holy Qur’an and other Divine writs that the Almighty created man indeed as the most perfect deputy of Him on the earth, and He even punished the angels to worship him, thus bestowing man with the highest title in the

universe. And no one can deny this. The problem is not even whether to deny it or not, but whether we correspond to this High status – to be Man, and not just any Man, but a perfect Man.

In doing so, can we assume that each person has the traits of humanity? And can we confi dently guarantee that he will live with them permanently and maintain them in all circumstances of life? Can we say with certainty that he will not destroy the good given to him, called conscience? Can we say of ourselves that each of us lives and acts according to the dictates of our

conscience and in accord with it? Or can we at least promise that we will live just like that in future?

Otherwise, what’s the use of life if you are human only in

your biological and external features?

* * *

The silence and peace of the forest was suddenly broken by the sound of a gunshot. The wanderer shuddered. His heart clenched with worry, and then a monstrous premonition pierced his heart with a sharp, prickling pain. The same uneasiness gripped the bear cub, busy hunting on the Kamarob River. The wanderer rushed to the sound of the shot. The bear, throwing the large trout she had just caught to the ground, ran towards the mountains with great leaps…


* * *


For a long time Mother Bear had been busy catching fi sh.Bored waiting for her to come back, Red suddenly noticed a bird that was trying to quench its thirst with its small beak while standing on the stone. In the same moment she rushed after her prey. The bird fl ed a few steps as the cub approached, and landed on another rock. The bear, panting, ran towards it again, trying

to catch it. As if playing with it, the bird took off again and again and landed a dozen yards away. Thus, one running away,the other catching up, they were soon two hundred metres away from Mother Bear. How many times did her brother Black try to tell her: «Stop, Red! Don’t be silly, you’ll never catch this bird!” – but his eff orts were in vain. His sister did not notice him and continued chasing the bird, moving further and further away towards the mountains.

Meanwhile, Mother Bear was concentrating on catching fi sh. Because of the noise of the rushing river she did not hear anything, or notice how far away the cubs had got…

They had been stalking the area for several days with rifl es.They could not fi nd the bears’ trail, and were becoming ill-tempered.

– You’re not even a hunter! And I, fool that I am, believed you… Damn you! I spent all this money on you, and no profi t…

– Don’t try to blame me for this, you’re the one who talked me into it,promised me money and brought me here!

– Shut your mouth, pick up your gun and be ready to shoot,like me…

– Don’t worry! You know it will only take me five seconds to load the gun and kill the prey…

But before the hunter could fi nish his sentence, two little bear cubs dashed in front of him.

– Get them! We’ll sell them to the zoo!

– No, wait, let’s wait for the mother. She should show up now looking for the kids… Let’s just shoot her.

– No, that’s enough, we’ve had enough! Let’s catch them and go. You catch the redhead, I’ll catch the black one. Do as you’re told! Otherwise we won’t have anything at all.

The two poachers chased the cubs. When they saw the men,the cubs tried to growl to scare them and call their mother for help. With each step the distance between them was shrinking – the armed men were getting closer. Black ran ahead, and his sister was catching up with him. As the older brother, Black slowed his pace and let his little sister go ahead, nudging her with his

muzzle and as if to say, «Run faster!»

– Get the redhead!

– All right!

Black tried to distract the hunters and swerved to the right.It was as if he understood that to save his little sister, he had to lead the men with guns towards him.

– You go left, I’ll go right! Don’t lose it!

The tall man continued in pursuit of Red, while the fat man ran after Black.

Soon the fi rst hunter caught the female bear cub, deftly tied her legs with a rope, and stuff ed her into a sack.

He grabbed the bag with his loot, and not paying attention to his wounded hands, the hunter followed his partner. The second hunter, who had hired him, bent over and held his right side with his hand, breathing heavily. He had a rifl e in his left hand.

Black charged up the mountain. The higher he climbed, the more the fat man lagged behind him. There was not much time left for him to be saved. He had to run to the tall boulders – they would hide him from the evil men. The bear cub kept running, with his forelegs.

The fat man raised his gun, shouting: «I’ll get a thousand dollars for this one!», and started aiming at the fl eeing bear cub.

– Brother, don’t shoot!

– Shut your mouth, can’t you see it’s getting away?

– Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, be reasonable, you can’t!

– I’m not paying you to say things like that!

– I don’t give a shit about your money! Don’t shoot!

The hunter, a slave to his passion, pulled the trigger, shooting the seven-month-old bear cub, who had already begun to believe that he would be saved.

The sharp sound of the gunshot shook the whole Pamir-Alai mountain range, and with it the whole world… The wanderer and the mother bear both heard the bullet being fi red.

Dropping his sack to the ground, the tall hunter squatted and, hands clasped over both ears, prayed in his heart that his partner’s bullet would miss its target; that he would miss the bear. His lips twitched convulsively.

But the bullet hit Black! It caught him and struck him in the side, passing close to his little heart. Black felt something sharp pierce and burn him. Then, then… he didn’t have time to understand anything. His heart stopped beating. His black eyes,wide open, seemed to see heaven and earth alternate. He rolled down the slope. Black had already given up his soul to God, and

his spirit, looking at everything that was happening from above,burst into tears: «Oh, people! Why?! I’m going to complain to the Almighty!»

Just at the start of his life, plump, fi lling his mother’s eyes with joy, the glorious little cub, who had never harmed anyone,and dreamed of one day treating his sister and mother to the meat of a deer he had caught, rolled down the slope and ended up under the feet of his killer. The bear cub seemed to growl as he struck the ground with a fi nal blow, bidding farewell to the

world. It stopped moving and fell silent. But his blood was still oozing from the wound…

Breathing heavily, the assassin took a large duff el bag from his shoulders and, panting, with diffi culty stuff ed Black’s body into it.

And then the wanderer and Mother Bear appeared simultaneously on the scene from two opposite sides. Anvar saw Black be killed from afar; the breath was knocked out of him, and his legs went numb. Falling against a pine tree, he froze.

At that time the Mother Bear, growling menacingly at the top of her lungs, emerged from the dense bushes. The hunter was squatting, emotionless. The other man was shouting at him,but he did not hear. The fat man, seeing the large bear appear,pointed his double-barrelled gun at her and immediately pulled the trigger. The bullet hit her head and ricocheted off her skull.

But she was only lightly wounded. The so-called hunter must not have known that an ordinary bullet cannot penetrate a bear’s hard and very tough skull.

The murderer threw the gun and bag off his shoulders and ran off , in an attempt to save his life.

Mother Bear ran up to the duff el bag and tore it apart. The dead body of her son fell out. She poked him in the side several times, trying to rouse her child’s motionless body. When she was sure that her son showed no signs of life, she let out a frightening roar and rushed after his killer.

The bear, wounded in the forehead and bleeding, caught up with the man in a few leaps. Her forelegs clawed at the murderer’s shoulders. Its powerful claws slashed at the man’s head and slid down, ripping his neck open. The man collapsed from the force of the impact. A mixture of saliva and blood fl owed over the wound in his neck from the bear’s wide-open mouth.

The mother bear knew that this was the man who had killed her beloved Black. She wanted her revenge: she piled her weight on top of the murderer and sank her teeth further into his neck,severing the carotid artery. Ignoring the gushing blood, piece by piece she tore to pieces the reason for her pain and grief. She let out a howl that shook not only the canyon, but the universe. The hunter was long dead. His lifeless body, all lacerated, took on

a gruesome appearance, but the bear still continued to torment him. With one blow of her paw she crushed his skull, and with her teeth she tore off the hand that had killed her son. From the man’s ripped pockets, blood-soaked dollars fell to the ground…

            The wanderer, unable to keep watching, turned away. He stood with his arms around the tree, weeping, with his headpressed against the trunk. His heart was bleeding. He wept notfor himself or for the dead man, but sobbed bitterly for Black,and for his mother’s grief. He wept with bitterness and regretthat people are becoming more and more insane and ruthless, all

for the sake of money…

Having torn to pieces and disemboweled the murderer,

Mother Bear turned again to Black, and spoke to him in a language

that only they understood:

– My son, my big boy, open your eyes, don’t sleep, get up!

The cub didn’t make a sound.

– Stop fooling around, son. Don’t scare me, my good boy,why aren’t you listening to me? Why are you staring at the sky? You’re my strongman, get up… sweetie, do you want some honey? Come on, let’s go, I’ll give you a whole beehive to eat! It’s your favourite, let’s go get some honey…

The bear cub lay motionless on its back, with its front paws tucked under its belly.

The mother bear began to lick her baby tenderly and aff ectionately,

in unspeakable grief. Blood oozed from her wound and dripped onto the cub’s fur. It was only when she licked Black’s blood that she fi nally realised that she had lost her son.

– My baby! My darling, I wish I was dead instead! Why did they kill you, my son?! Why?!

Suddenly the weather changed. Black clouds gathered over the gorge, lightning fl ashed, thunder cracked, and a downpour started to fall. It was a sign that the Almighty was angry.

Meanwhile, Red was struggling to free herself from her captivity, and was trying to tear the sack open. The tarpaulin bag was no match for the bear cub’s sharp claws. The mother bear, hearing her daughter’s voice, turned and saw a man in distress, squatting with his arms around his head.

The bloodied, sobbing Mother Bear approached the hunter and raised her oreleg, intent on lashing out at him. Droplets of blood and saliva dripped from her mouth onto his head, and he convulsed. When he looked up and saw the fearsome beast in front of him ready to tear him apart, the hunter began to plead:

– I told him not to shoot! I didn’t kill your child! Don’t kill me, please, I have fi ve children! Don’t make them orphans! Forgive me, bear, forgive me…

– Mee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee», the echo came…

The wanderer, concerned for the hunter, wanted to help him but didn’t know how.

The hunter sat in a daze, waiting for the fatal blow. But then she froze abruptly. Her eyes refl ected the universal grief of a mother who had lost a child. A child! And, as if taking pity on the hunter’s children, she did not lower her heavy paw to his head. And at that moment her little daughter pulled her by the back paw. With tears in her eyes, in a language understood only

by them, Red said:

– Mum, leave him alone, let’s go wake up my brother! He saved me! I have the strongest, bravest and cleverest brother in the world!

The girl didn’t know that her brother had been killed. She didn’t understand why Black wasn’t moving.

The mother bear returned to her son. Sniffi ng and licking his eyes, she rushed swiftly towards the river. Red ran after her. Soon they returned, both smeared with thick mud. They began to lick Black’s wound, then smeared it with mud. The wanderer was watching this happen, and understood: the poor mother had tried to revive her child with the help of the healing mud. But

there was no miracle. The heartbroken bears wondered why the mud that had helped them so many times was powerless this time.

When the bears had gone to the river bank, the grey-haired hunter came to his senses and ran away. He smashed his gun on the ground and threw it away. From that day he would never pick up a gun again.

For a long time Mother Bear and her daughter paced around Black’s dead body, mourning their son and brother.Finally resigning themselves to their loss, they headed towards Bear Gorge. What they were feeling at that moment,

whom they were scolding and cursing, was known only to them

and to God…

* * *


All night long there was lightning and thunder in the Subudai Gorge. The tragedy that had happened the day before had shaken the wanderer, and sitting in his tent he could not gather his thoughts.

…The old golden eagle, watching the tragedy from above,shook his head and muttered:

– As long as I have lived, I have never seen such a ruthless and cruel creature as man. And people call eagles predators! People, people…», and he fl ew away over the horizon, fl aping his broad wings heavily…


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