Akylbek Djumanaliev

Страна : Кыргызстан

Старший научный сотрудник института истории и культурного наследия при Академии Наук Кыргызской Республики. Доктор исторических наук, профессор и заслуженный ученый Кыргызской Республики. Автор нескольких монографий, научно-популярных статей, также занимаюсь переводом стихов Японских поэтов с русского языка на кыргызский язык.

Country :  Kyrgyzstan

Chief Researcher of the Institute of History and Cultural Heritage at Academy of Science of the Kyrgyz Republic Doctor of Historical Sciences Professor and Honored Scientist of the Kyrgyz Republic. Author of several monographs, scientific, popular science articles. I am also engaged in literary creative essays, translate the poetry of Japanese poets from Russian into Kyrgyz

Отрывок из малой прозы “Palomino horse


     In late afternoon it was freezing. The wind increased, it was getting stronger and colder, the stormy clouds appeared in the sky. It seemed that the wind wanted to test this area whether it could withstand a big storm. Suddenly from western side the thick and swirling blue fog appeared, strong windy storm blew heavy frost towards the countryside, after a while it was alike winter time all around.

      At that freezing night at the edge of countryside where the strong windy storm swallowed everything on its way there was a tiny house with its small barn from where a little boy went out with his Palomino horse. His mother also followed her son. The strong storm was still gaining force, it seemed that Palomino horse was impatient to the cold, snaffling its horse bits, the horse turned back, but the boy hold its bridles and made it walk. He turned the horse towards the windy storm, he stepped the stirrup and while he was going to reach the horn of saddles, his mother said: “Son, look out. It is stormy outside. Better stay at home, don’t go there.” But the boy said emphatically: “I will go”, then he wanted to sit onto the saddle, his mother who was standing next to him helped to sit. She closed her son’s hem and sleeves, tied his fur hat’s ropes pulling them down. The boy wanted to ride his horse, but Palomino tried approaching the barn.

      The boy insisted on riding the horse anyway. Pulling its rein strongly towards himself  he said quietly “go!” Palomino unwillingly stepped with its limping hoof despite of the strong windy storm. The boy’s shadow slowly started to be hidden within the black despair of night. It was impossible to breath because of winter storm. He could barely see the horse’s ears let alone the road.

        As soon as he got far away from the house he dismounted from his horse lightening its load as usual because the boy always felt sorry for Palomino. He left the village leading his horse by the reins.

       One day his mother noticed the way her son was treating his horse, she said: “Son, do not treat your horse like this. It was created and given by God to us so that people could ride and use its force. Look, the other boys they are riding their horses and never feel pity for them like you, but how about you? You even do not ride it. If you do not stop it, we will be an object of ridicule among people in the village”.

      But now it is dark night. First the boy was walking fast and then started running through the big field’s snowy thin road which was barely visible. Palomino was limping on its back right hoof, pacing unwillingly with its drained head up and down.

      In late autumn this Palomino horse came to the house of the boy. Whether the foreman of the collective farm felt pity for this limping horse that was without owner, careless and unable to work, or he wanted to take care of this family that could use the horse for bringing water and wood, who knows maybe because of destiny, the main thing is the horse was left under the care of this boy. Since then the boy had doubled his household duties. He himself could do the housekeeping, Palomino horse was not a burden to the boy, he liked the horse, however the horse would not leave this family’s barn if they even drive it away. Seeing its bad look mother and son gave it a good place in their barn. Coming of Palomino accompanied with strong cold, hay on their barn got less and less day by day. There was waiting long winter ahead….

       Once that horse named a gold coat was ridden by the foreman, but now it is the limping Palomino. A long time ago it had yellow, gold skin with light cream mane and tail. One could see how the horse was playful, young and under the sun’s rays its mane and the horse itself glittered like gold. At present it is thin, sick and unkempt, if someone combs its long mane, it seems that large amounts of hair are ready to be removed.

        Palomino was running with its limping hoof after the boy. 

Later on the foreman rode it for several years. Then this gold coat horse broke its right hoof. That young gold coat horse was given a name as limping Palomino. It was homeless because nobody took care of it, and finally this boy took it under his control. If it survives in winter, when spring comes and the grass grows Palomino will surely live much better than now.

        On that strong stormy day the boy and the horse came through the big field and stopped next to the barn for caws where there were two large hays. He tied his horse to the wooden fence, went through that fence and started making presses of those hays.

        Little by little the sky began clearing up, the winter storm stopped. Strong windy storm were chasing white clouds on the top of mountains. That dark night was coming over, now that caw barn, the thick forest and top of the mountains started to be much more visible. Over there a dog of the cowboy was barking from time to time. There was silence and none was there. Of course, on such windy stormy days who will go out?

         The boy was not in a hurry and did his things accurately as usual without interruption. Then he threw those two pressed hays over the fence and started to tie them on two sides of his horse. Palomino was silent as if it agreed with him. 

Then the boy headed back to his house. There was an old man who was the owner of caws and who noticed how the boy was stealing from those hays for many days. And today he had seen again the boy and his Palomino horse but kept silence.

The boy was not rushing home. Now that storm disappeared. 

          Slowly the sky became clear. The silver moon was high in the sky giving the only light that was shining down as the crystal and the field seemed to blaze. That very moment the boy felt as if he strongly united with this world and his Palomino. The horse and the boy both were alike a bird in the field flying between the Earth and the Sky. He admired at the nature thinking how beautiful everything around us now. Looking around he forgot about his horse and hays. He with his not yet considered dream wanted to join the absolute idea and the worldwide consciousness. However it was the first time in his life and his heart became petrified how the silver moon was shining after the strong storm and the deep silence around him calmed his inner world. The boy admired, enjoyed the sparkling stars in the sky and the glittering moon.

        The moon was shining bright mysterious light over the earth, that field. It was like a pearl bringing the light to the darkness of the night. The boy never wanted to destroy this gorgeous view of the nature. He stopped at that moment, and then stared at the top of the mountains, from behind he could see the shadows of those hays, when he turned to the other direction he saw his village. Over there at the edge of roadside the light is visible from the window of his little and old cabin which wanted to compete with the moon light. Palomino’s and his final destination is that light.

           It seemed that the boy stood for a long time. Suddenly he felt Palomino chewing its bridles weakly, so the boy kept his way towards home. In the white and empty field there were two shadows going, one was the boy’s and the other was his horse’s. If one of them was carrying the load of destiny from the Creator, the other one was carrying the load created by time. A bit later when the horse arrived at its barn and started eating crispy hays till early morning the boy considered that situation to be his main gain.

            Last year throughout summer the boy with his friends was making hays  and baled them, the boy rode the horse for hays until he had callus on his thighs. And those hays are the two big bales of hays which were tied on two sides of Palomino. Right now he feels so embarrassed and ashamed because of stealing them. He could not understand whether it is the life’s logical or illogical pattern.

The field is as white as paper. The boy and the horse seemed to be tied like Chinese symbols inseparable from each other, he was dreaming as if he was flying between the Earth and the Sky. 

       Palomino and he finally arrived at his house. His mother who was waiting met them in front of their tiny house. She helped her son to take away the two bales of hays. The boy came into the barn to see his Palomino. He covered his horse with sackcloth. He saw how the horse was shaken, the boy felt cold too, but he calmed down thinking that it was winter time. He gave one bale of hays to Palomino and came back home.

          Early in the morning of the next day the boy’s mother felt something wrong, she went to their barn. Having seen the horse lying motionless in the barn, she quickly came back and entered the house crying with her pity voice : “ Oh my God, Palomino is dead!” Hearing that news the boy immediately got up from his bed then barefoot without hat the boy ran out of the house like a bullet straight to the barn and saw his horse dead with its long feet. He stared at its eyes, on Palomino’s eyelashes there were snowflakes and its blurry eyes were alike steamed glasses.

           That one bale of hays was left without touching. The boy thought about Palomino: “If only he could survive till spring!”

His mother whispered: “Even this animal, it could understand the hard work and duty of my son? Are you dead even not touching that stolen hay feeling sorry for my son?”

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