Chapter 17 of the short novel of Holder Volcano "Falling leaves"
Although Khurshida agreed that she would marry a nephew of the great chairman comrade Kokyutalov abu Salasarimsak ibn Guslvozhib Tezaktelbakezavuch to save my mom's life, but she couldn't get rid of the unbearable longing for the tractor driver Sultan. On the contrary, her mental anguish, torture and pain grew, like a snowball, hour after hour and day by day. She smiled at her mom, but her soul crying, demanding a meeting with the tractor driver Sultan. Khurshida was crying, not showing her tears to anyone, not even mom not to upset her. Foggy days and nights she cried into the pillow, and she always wanted to be alone, because alone she could mentally to meet her lover, the guy with the tractor the tractor driver Sultan to live with her. Today, waking up, she saw snow falling outside the window and sighed involuntarily thinking that winter has come. It has been snowing all night and he fell carelessly, blurry window with its delicate curtain. She fell quiet, as if fearing to frighten away the white silence, slowly thicker and thicker covering the streets, trees, roofs of houses white fluffy flakes. The snow was falling so thickly that it was difficult to see the road, houses and trees through the curtain of falling snowflakes. Khurshida was looking through the window at the snow, and could not look away from this gentle fabulous winter beauty.
After Breakfast, Khurshida, dressed warmly, went to the side of the field mill, heavy with snow, through a Blizzard that circled diagonally flying snowflakes, not allowing her to open her eyes. She walked, protecting her eyes with the sleeve of her worn drape coat from flying snowflakes. Eyelashes and part of her hair sticking out from under the white shawl, snow-covered, like hair and eyelashes gray-haired old woman. Khurshida since childhood was surprised and captured by a mysterious silence that comes during a snowfall. Birds, streets, fields - all nature subsides, as if afraid to disturb the rustle and whisper of falling snow, like a prayer in the divine winter silence, especially at night. Snow jams make the car turn off the engine. Snow night lights not only light, but also deep ravines of the human soul to the bottom. In falling snow has a calm, melancholy street lamps that are lonely think about something important, with downcast eyes, oblivious to the swarm of white and wild bees albinos that continually bite them, swirling in a Blizzard.
Hardly moving through the thick snow, Khurshida, finally got to the field camp and saw the frozen snow-covered poplar and willow, which joined the branches to the ground from the weight of snow. A locust tree stood, too, in white, as if covered in flowers, and a nest of magpies, too, was covered with a thick layer of snow, like an old forgotten cart in the winter night. The snow was gone; the snowflakes were flying obliquely in white silence, white dash, covering up the traces of Khurshida. The snow fills the grievances, hardships, and separation as follow during a Blizzard, leaving in the soul the longing for past love and the sweet moments that it is impossible to return. Perhaps that is why man sometimes I want to cry silently, staring at the falling snow, remembering happy and joyful days in my life. When especially put out the light in the room, staring through the window at the white twilight, where it falls with the rustle of the snow, when people are sleeping, closing their doors on the latch, when snow-covered roads freeze in the white silence, your soul gets peace and comfort. The snow turns the night into a white fairy-tale dream in reality.
Khurshida was covered with snow like a white pilgrim who came to visit the Shrine. She stood, ignoring the cold, swirling snowflakes in a Blizzard, looking at the dazzling snow which covered winter fields. For Khurshida these places, this field camp, this snow - covered white acacia turned into a hanging symbol of her love and looking at them in her soul revived marvelous memories. Here she met the tractor driver Sultan for the first time when the neighborhood was full of people and their joyful noise, their cheerful ringing laughter, and now the field camp and snow-covered fields have plunged into white silence, where in the noisy sparrows stunning his chirping the whole neighborhood, and heard a ringing and laughter laborers, now silence reigns, and there is a quiet sideways snow. Here, Khurshida bent the samovar; poured boiling water scalded his foot. It is here that she saw iron will, self-restraint and patience of the tractor driver Sultan, without my noticing, I fell in love with him. What happy days are gone in the past, in the dead of oblivion? What an irreplaceable loss, how changeable this world is, o Lord my God! - Khurshida cried, shaking her shoulders. At the moment she didn't want to go home. On the contrary, I wanted to sit at a table covered with snow, under a white acacia and, freezing, turn into ice as a mammoth in permafrost. Let it be covered with snow, falling for weeks day and night, and it will never respond to the call of people who will look for it all night in a snowstorm, stumbling on a knee in the snow with lanterns in their hands, not hearing even their own cry in a Blizzard. It will take eternity, silence. But her pity for her mother stopped her. If it wasn't for her, Khurshida long time would not exist in this world, even the laws of religion would not be able to stop her from suicide. Because of pity to his mother she agreed without love to marry the nephew of the Chairman. Mom must be worried about her by now. Would Khurshida's sister or brother, she would not hesitate, would be hanged right on this acacia. But she's the only one with her parents.
Khurshida sat a long time over the snow-covered table, under a tree, wrapped in a white fluffy blanket of snow. She came here to say goodbye to the white acacia, to the field camp and to the native snow-covered fields, where she fell in love and spent the lightest, unforgettable days in her life, which went into oblivion. The neighborhood is also grieving, like saying goodbye to her and cried the Blizzard.
- Goodbye - said Khurshida in a whisper, and in her chest she was furious tears, and then they leaked out the cracks of her eyes.
She stood up and, stumbling in the snow, back home. Snow in the evening had increased and was falling all night long. Khurshida till the morning could not sleep, constantly thinking of the tractor driver Sultan. Despite the fact that she turned out the light in the room was bright from the slanting snow, which, without stopping, went outside the window.