Страна : Туркменистан
Я родился в 1952 году. Я писатель. Меня интересует литература с 17 лет. Мои 3 книги, опубликованные в Турции. Два фильма были сняты по сценарию меня и моего брата. Мои писания публикуются в литературной газете.
Country : Turkmenistan
I was born in 1952. I am a writer. I am interested in literature since 17 years old. My 3 books published in Turkey. Two films have been filmed by our scenery me and my brother. My writings are being published in the literature newspaper.
Demise of Soul
(Story)
That man fell asleep early the day before, he woke up early in the morning. He felt so curious. He didn’t understand anything for a while. He had such great astonishment. And one would undergo this feeling whenever he would be shot by gun setting against on his forehead and not be dead even in that case. The first place where he looked at was his window. Is the world in its place? Just a small place of the world was being seen as brightness. The daybreak of hot summer days and the sun hasn’t risen yet.
-What would be seen on the seventh floor of a sixteen-floor apartment except for looking out of the window? I said to him.
He didn’t pay any attention to me since white dawn seemed to That man as a large white paper other than anything good now. He wanted to stand up and look at trees, buses that have begun their work by their route, and at people who were early on the streets for their work or any other reason. But lying on his bed he took a glance on empty walls of the house. He tried to press all over his throat by his slightly trembling fingers. He rubbed his hands. He wiped his rolling down sweat. Finally, he thought about whether it was dying while you were alive and stood up.
Everyone conceives his body’s fullness even if he doesn’t pay any attention to it. But That man didn’t feel it today this morning. His body emptiness is a totally different thing than the emptiness of the stomach while one’s hungry. His body was thoroughly empty. His hand reached his chest. On feeling that his heart also wasn’t beating, his body got enervated. It was obvious that he was breathing, but his heart was not beating.
While That man was searching for his pulse on his wrist, then on his throat, then again on his wrist, his actions seemed to him as if they were artificial. I was really surprised by looking at him. It seemed as if he didn’t rise his hand himself, and as if he didn’t stand up by himself, and while he was walking towards the window as if he didn’t pace himself. Or is it such kind of a disease like Parkinson’s disease? Is there such kind of a disease by which your heart stops beating? It would be clear if the heart was covered with fat and that was the reason for not being able to feel the heartbeat, but that was not the situation.
— Call the ambulance.
“If they ask what happens, what would I answer? Would I reply that my heart wasn’t beating?” he burst into a laugh. That laugh wasn’t like other laughs since his lips turned to one side and that was all. That man got to his place and lay again there. «It must be a temporary thing and it will pass soon,» I said to him and tried to calm him down.
—Just try to fall asleep. I said.
One good thing was that he didn’t feel any pain in his body, he also had enough energy.
In spite of all his efforts, That man couldn’t take his mind off emptiness of his body. «If I swallow something or drink a cup of water, what will happen,» he said to himself. He stood up and drank water. Nothing has changed. He looked at his bowels and his body as if he would see the water he had drunk under his skin. And his body was white since it was not exposed to the sun. I looked at it too. It seemed ridiculous but we were far from laughing at that moment. Whether That man grinned because of his anger, or because of his fear or it seemed ridiculous of himself being in such state in real, he broke into a grin again and looked at me. Both of us couldn’t believe what was going on.
I slept well at night. I didn’t have any nightmare. I had a good night’s sleep when I woke up. I haven’t been in a party for a week… I…
That man began sitting down and standing up slowly and carefully. He counted by himself as «one, two…» He reached thirty-five. He stood up and sat down for five times again, and couldn’t find any strength to do more. But he has reached forty! It is the greatest triumph of him lately. But he would do light morning exercise every day and would do run. He believed in the miracle of physical training.
«It is not quite a few doing squats for forty times in sixty years old! Or is it? If I ask it from my son, he will say it is quite enough». He phoned his son Sahy. Sahy answered as expected:
-If you ask it for yourself, it is enough, dad. These things depend on your body. The one who is strong and does physical exercises every day will do squat for fifty times easily.
—Is there any connection of it with heart?
-The heart also must be healthy. Dad, why are you asking such things from me? You know these things well enough!
-Yes, I know… Ok, Good-bye. Did you cut down on visitıng to us with your wife lately?
-I would rather visit. I would visit, father.
-Ok then, good-bye.
-Bye.
«If I have a strength for doing squats forty times, it means that I live and I will for a while.»
That man relaxed as if the threat of death has been disappeared. But his hands were touching his heart subconsciously over and over again. The heart would beat, it should beat regularly actually. That man asked from me:
-Look at me, do you see any change on me?
I would rather say to him «No», but everything has changed on him. Even his look was different. «Does blood flow in my veins, or are there any veins actually?» he said and thought about taking a knife from the kitchen and cut his skin in order to realize it. But he felt terror by this thought, he was frightened of himself. Gathering his work papers, he set off his workplace. It seemed to him that if he would go outside everything would be in good order. It is just the same as whenever you get lost in a big city and find a familiar building and be relaxed.
It didn’t change anything even he got outside. Cars were passing by at great speed. That man’s eyes were on people. And people’s arms and legs act, their eyes and faces also as usual. Everyone has their own concerns and anxiety. They go just thinking about them. Everyone is busy with his or her own deeds. It seemed to him that even each bypasser said «Why, doesn’t this man have his heart in its place?» and took a glance. Gradually he didn’t even want to raise his head. It seemed as if everyone was full and healthy, but only he was like a spoiled and empty egg. «No one had rather see me and I had rather see nobody,» he said by himself. It is rather extraordinary that you are outside just wearing a shirt, no, not even without that shirt while everyone was wearing a coat or same of that sort in winter. At worst it was very difficult for him walking and pretending himself like other people while he was naked. It was getting cold and he was quivering and he was aware of being naked. He should exhale his warm breath and pretend that he is the one who is getting hot. He should conceal his emptiness. Even though That man was thinking about the day of winter, the weather was very hot in real.
His workplace — Institute of Botany was near his home.
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