Biography of Hamid Alimjan

Add to the EC bookmarks the author of the Mastature of Iskhakov ... There was an exhausting heat that is ordinary for Tashkent - Chille, which lasts exactly forty days in the calendar - until August 5. These days, the city can be compared, except with a fire -breathing tandoor. Therefore, everyone who had the opportunity left, away from the city heat and fuss. Two wonderful days spent in the country in Durmen, a wonderful vacation for the whole family spilled out.

Children bought out plenty, in the fresh air they always had a good appetite. Zulfiya watched with a smile as Hamid, playing with her children, turned into a child, believing into his funny stories and invented fairy tales ... Their story also sometimes seemed a fairy tale. On the way home, Zulfiya recalled some subtle details of their amazing acquaintance, saturated with the ringing of poetry, the first words of confessions, the timid sentence of Hamid ...

Hamid remained in Durmen for a day for an important conversation with friends. He promised to be at home tomorrow at seven. Zulfiya went to the mirror, looked at herself with a critical look, straightened her hair, slightly lifted her lips. Then she covered the table with a stharged tablecloth, laid out plates, bowls and went out into the yard, from where the cheerful voices of the children were heard ...

- Aman, Hulkar, home! Soon dad will arrive. We will have dinner. There was a fight of the clock. Zulfiya shuddered and looked at the dial. The arrows showed - half of the eighth ... Hamid always came on time, because he knew that in the house they never sat down to dinner without him. Waiting for Zulfia became anxious, she fed the children, explaining to them that her father had a lot of work, and he would come late ...

The arrows beat a new circle one by one. For several hours now she has been tormented by the same question: - What happened to Hamid? .. Thoughts got confused, looped according to the memoirs of the past years. And suddenly - she also composes poetry! More than anything, young Zulfiya was afraid that one of his friends would learn about this her hobby. The girl spent many nights over the first verses before timidly dare to show their teachers on one of the classes of the literary circle.

Could the fifteen -year -old student of the pedagogical school Zulfiy Israilov then imagine that after a while her poems will be translated into many languages ​​of the world? Whether then the timid and shy Zulfiya thought that a young man would burst into her life, which could completely turn her life in her life. They read their poems, answered questions, a young student listened to them with great emotional excitement.

From the table stood a young poet from Jizak-Hamid Alimjan, who was already printed in newspapers and magazines. Zulfiya immediately paid attention to him. He stood out noticeably among other guests. After waiting a little when the hall calms down, the poet turned to the audience: - My young colleagues, I am very glad that people gathered here, who really think about the future of our literature.

The more you read the classics and modern books, the more experience and knowledge will gain. Dare, create, experiment! He read his early poems in inspiration, and Zulfiya was fascinated by listened to the beautiful baritone of the poet, the skill of his reading, the beauty of his poetry. Each line echoed her thoughts, reached the depths of her soul ... She felt how often her heart was beating very much ...

... Outside the window shouted loudly a neighbor's cock, returning Zulfia to reality. She raised her head, looked at her watch - the arrows showed ten minutes of the second ... Driving the disturbing thoughts of Zulfii suddenly remembered a random meeting with her future husband on the street near the Cinema “Young Guard”. Hamid, as it seemed to her then, was very delighted with this meeting.

He said that he liked the poem of Zulfia printed in the newspaper with his sincerity and imagery. The praise of the already famous poet, a young beautiful man excited the girl. Returning home, she settled under a blooming cherry and scrolled every word, gaze, gesture and smile of Hamid in memory for a long time. In the evening, she wrote a lyrical poem “When Cherry Bloated” ...

This meeting decided their future fate. He is a stigma on the purity of girlish, but now I can’t be silent. For a long time I was looking for strength in myself - I could not find strength more than love. I love you, dear wizard. Run my soul with love! It was then that fate connected her with her loved one, a wonderful poet - Hamid Alimjan. The most expensive gift for the young wedding was made by the mother of Zulfiya, Hadich-Op.

How gentle, poetic was her soul, how the mother loved all the beautiful - nature, flowers, poems! It was from her mother to Zulfiya who first heard Navoi, Fizuli, Bedil's poems. This beautiful, slender woman of an outstanding mind and giftedness at the wedding of the youngest daughter herself embroidered Susan's amazing beauty. On a blue background, in the bright eating of dawn, the rising sun was depicted.

Seeing him, Hamid enthusiastically said that Susane filled the room with some special light and warmth. And so the silk of colored cheerful shifting in the basket, as a rainbow shines ... ... in memory of me, take a gift, friend; He is a fair, like a garden during a leaf fall.The intricate art of female hands is fun for you, and for me - joy ”Zulfiya. Until now, this Suzan is adorned with the house of Zulfiya and Hamid Alimjan, reminding his grandchildren and great -grandchildren about the amazing love story.

Zulfiya went to the window and opened heavy curtains. Only a bright moon, as if carved from silver foil, illuminated a deserted road. Somewhere, the dog howled pityly ... Zulfiya went to the bookcase, took a volume of poems by Hamid Alimjan from the shelf, leafed through, stopped on the lines: in the years of my youth in my soul, you quietly blossomed. Then spring opened for eyes, and for the first time a sweet one entered life ...

The young woman smiled ... She remembered the day when her husband first read these poems to her ... as if it were yesterday: a spring evening, the aroma of fragrant lilacs in the courtyard by the window and they were sitting on a bench. Here, far from the bustle and noise, they lived ten unforgettable fairy -tale days! After long walks along the mountain paths, admiring nature and breathing in clean air, cool evenings, tired, they sat for a long time on the shore of a noisy mountain river, embracing, looking at the endless blue sky, strewn with millions of silver stars.

And everyone was thinking about his own ... Zulfia went to the crib, on which their daughter was sleeping peacefully ... She was already seven years old ... And we have been together for nine years! Hamid turned out to be not only a sensitive husband, a friend, a faithful companion in life, but also a wonderful father of two children - the daughter of Hulkar and the son of Aman.

She again turned around the collection ... daughter Hulkar ... The carpet behind the carpet is spreading for us, let the spring blossom with you. With you - let the good in the world arrive, let the joy will always be a companion to you. Son Aman. Hello spring, not opening buds! Hello son, my beloved chick! He is subdue, he breathes - oh, if you knew how your father awaits you!

Hello to you, my darling, welcome! Hello to you, son is long -awaited! Zulfiya started up from the memories surging on her ... In the nursery, the son's voice was heard. Mother went into the room and saw him sitting on the crib. The kid cried. And I will sit next to you. He obediently drank water, sighed, put his head on the pillow, looked gratefully at his mother and closed his eyes.

After making sure that Aman fell asleep, Zulfiya gently stood up, closed the door and went out into the hall. The clock struck half the third ... Suddenly in the head of a young woman, unpleasant thoughts crept in. He is a famous person, a handsome, young man. Surely women like ... you never know what evil tongues say, all these conversations, just stupid gossip ...

No, no! They both smiled. I recalled last year on August 24 - the birthday of his son. Friends, colleagues from Uzbekistan and evacuated writers and poets of other republics gathered in the house. Guests from Belarus raised a toast for the health of the baby, wishing parents a long -time life together for many years. Touched with warm words, Hamid got up from the table and turned to everyone:-Dear friends!

At the age of four, I lost my father. Before he had enough to feel his love and care. Today, my son Aman turned four years old, he has a father and mother.

And living with parents for a child is the highest happiness. Let's drink for that friends, so that my children feel happy for a long time! For another half an hour of life, they passed in a piercing expectation of her husband ... Nothing is heard from Hamid ... He is simply not! What to do? Where to go, to whom to turn in the middle of the night? .. Yes, but they are together!

We need to wait for the morning ... Her gaze stopped at the large portrait of Hamid on the wall. At half a turn, with wavy hair, which was checked back, he calmly looked at her, as if to say that everything would be fine! .. She ran a hand from the photograph, and suddenly a moan of despair burst out of her chest: - Where are you? I'm waiting for you, dear, my most dear man!

It was already light ... There was an unusual silence in the office. When Hamid worked, his steps were heard outside the door, a voice was heard - he loved to check the written “by ear”. He had a phenomenal memory - sometimes Zulfi seemed that there were no poems in the world that he would not know. Creativity was not just work for him, but the only form of existence: he did not think of himself without poetry for a single hour, not a single day ...

... Zulfiya opened completely curtains, sat down at the desk opposite the window, and began to look out into the street.