“The net of insurmountable troubles, has entangled you as well in foolishness!” – Esxil
By Rukhsora Nur | Uzbekistan
A message with a picture arrived on the woman’s phone.
The sun was scorching, and it was so hot that even a breath would make one’s face sweat. One couldn’t tell where the beads of sweat, mixed with dust, were coming from. Wiping her flushed face with her sleeve, she arranged the hot flatbreads in a large bowl and went to the kitchen. After catching her breath, she thought about setting them on the table and picked up her phone, sensing that a message had come from her husband. He was working hard labor in Moscow. The image didn’t load right away – perhaps the internet signal was weak in the stifling kitchen. Lost in thought, she stared at the screen. It was as if someone had poured ice-cold water over her boiling body, making her gasp for air. It felt like her entire life had been shredded as if her clothes had been torn apart for amusement. She rushed outside and called her two sons, who were playing in the shade of the neighbor’s house. They sensed the urgency in her voice and immediately ran to her.
“Let’s go; we’re going to the big river. Hurry up.” Her eyes had a wild look, and her pace quickened. The children, afraid of being scolded, quietly followed their mother. The older one was seven, and the younger one five. The older boy’s bare feet could barely withstand the burning sand, while the younger one hopped and skipped along, showing signs of discomfort.
“Be worse! You’ll cool off soon in the river.” Her tone was harsh, her face expressionless.
The river flowed fiercely, muddy and churning. The woman, in a blur of emotion, lifted her older child with both hands and, like a kitten tossed from a roof, flung him into the river. In an instant, she shoved the younger one in as well. Only when the children surfaced, crying out, “Mother! Moth-err!” did their voices reach her. She tightly shut her eyes and, without hesitation, threw herself into the river too. The current tossed them like bobbing apples, swallowing them up and pulling them along. An old man tending sheep nearby heard the commotion. When he glanced back, he saw bodies floating in the water and rushed toward the river. The woman, in her final moments, realized how precious life was. Life itself never betrays the body, as long as the spirit remains loyal to it. Even in betrayal, it offers one last chance, making such a swift, resolute decision that the body barely senses the spirit’s betrayal.
***
In Zeus’s magnificent palace, a second trial was held to get Prometheus to confess his guilt. All the deities who sympathized with Prometheus were as cautious as if sitting on pins and needles. Facing Zeus’s wrath was worse than being crushed by the weight of the entire world! After all, he wielded the truth like a staff, bending everything to his will. If you didn’t bow to his side, you would suffer Sisyphus’s fate or share in the stew Prometheus had cooked. They had no choice, really. They had tried many times to persuade him, but Prometheus, in his love for humanity, refused to see how little humans valued it and did not admit his guilt. Poseidon stood to testify. He had seen with his own eyes how Prometheus, during his watch over the Aegean Sea, gave fire to the Scythians, hiding sparks within the stones of the earth for all eternity. But he did not reveal where the spark was hidden. He simply concluded with a curt, “Prometheus is guilty. “Zeus, whose patience was running thin, directed his gaze at the defiant, shackled figure of Prometheus and proclaimed:
“You betrayed the gods; you taught mankind the ways to achieve greatness. Humans were condemned to perish on Earth, their bodies dried from hunger, helplessness, and lack of water. Yet you showed them how to cultivate food, giving them the ability to select and grow their own sustenance. How could you defy such a decree and dare to teach the Weak how to create fire? If the gods do not unleash their divine wrath, Man will devour the entire universe. The insatiable force of human desire—this single urge—is beyond our control, and now, due to your fault, humans have claimed sole dominion over their desires. But know this: they do not control their desires; it is desire that controls them. Have you not seen today how a frail mother destroyed the lives of her own children, whom Poseidon took into his grasp? She was their mother! Humanity exploits its status in every unexpected way. Poseidon made a wise decision. Ask him why he desired such an outcome.”
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As a descendant of Themis, Prometheus could not bear not to speak.
“What kind of judgment is it if it isn’t separated from your despicable order? Wasn’t it through your own tricks that the poor Woman received an image of her husband in bed with another woman? By your will, the Woman was left alive only to become the murderer of her own children. How will she live now? Isn’t this more terrifying than burning in the flames of hell?”
Poseidon, sensing the awkwardness, tried to clarify the situation, for Zeus was ready to unleash lightning upon Prometheus at any moment.
“Prometheus, my brother, no man has the right to harm another; she will face her own punishment, and the sentence will be her own doing. Her husband’s mind was consumed by the web of desires.”
“Desires!” Prometheus’s laughter echoed through the palace walls. “How can the Weak rein in the desires the gods themselves couldn’t control? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Sensing the mockery, Zeus rose with a thunderous expression and declared:
“Hephaestus, let this scoundrel be nailed to the highest peak of the iron-rich Caucasus Mountains, and let us see how the noble Scythians for whom he showed kindness will become mere spectators and applause to my judgment!”
***
Humanity had already reached a significant level of development. The fire that Prometheus had given them had served them for thousands of years, allowing them to accumulate immense wealth. Now, the world was driven by this wealth.
An elderly, wealthy man, as he lay dying, gathered his family and delivered his final wish:
“After my death, burn all my wealth, my businesses, my homes.”
The thoughts in his mind spread seeds of unease; how could he not take even a portion of what he had worked so hard for into the afterlife? How could only those left behind enjoy the fruits of his labor while he would have nothing? That would not do.
“Set everything ablaze!” he insisted. “Otherwise, I will forever withhold my blessing from all of you”. As the flood of depravity pulls everything into its depths, a human’s value is reduced to less than a grain of sand. People are becoming those who depart this world without understanding why they were created.
As Hephaestus, his hands bloodied, chained Prometheus to the mountainside, Zeus’s minions, Judgment and Tyranny, mocked him on either side.
“Come on, strike harder, hit his chest, “Let’s see how he dares to steal sacred fire from the gods again. Prometheus, the wise—ha! To save this foolish Prometheus, maybe the Ocean must birth yet another wise one!” they laughed, their voices harsh with mockery.
Hephaestus, burdened by loyalty, found it painful to drive a blade into his friend’s chest.
“Prometheus, confess your sin! Resisting Zeus’s decree is the act of a fool. Until you speak the truth, Zeus’s wrath will remain upon you.”
Accepting his fate but never renouncing the truth, Prometheus offered Hephaestus encouragement even in his suffering:
“There are two things from which no one can escape: necessity and duty. Do your work.”
A voice echoed in scorn: “Such stubbornness in a guilty man! Tell me, what sin is it you claim, this guilt you carry? Is it not our duty to aid the helpless? With fire, mankind’s labor became lighter. If this help makes me guilty, I am prepared to endure any punishment.”
“Oh, Prometheus, open your eyes!” Hephaestus twisted his head earthward, revealing the thoughts running through the heart of the wealthy old man, who hoarded even on the brink of death.
“Do you see? Is this the outcome of your charity? The very people you sought to help sink deeper into depravity, even on their deathbeds. Mankind is the only creature who would deny others what it does not possess. Expect no good from them!”
“There are two kinds of outcomes, after all: good and evil. You see only the evil. Yes, I am guilty. If the Divine grants you knowledge and you hoard it, or if you shun the weak, you become guilty. If the Divine grants you strength, and you do not use it to lift the powerless, you are again guilty. I am guilty because I have not yet taught all I know to the powerless.”
“Look, Prometheus, look at Hell,” Hephaestus continued, “see how your weak ones are roasted and burned by fire, consumed by their own sins. You gifted them fire for goodness, yet they built Hell itself, using that flame for torment and escape. What do you say to that? Stay a Titan alone—you are not the savior of the petty! Speak the secrets you know and escape Zeus’s torment at once!”
At that moment, Poseidon appeared, raging across the Black Sea. He seemed to bring an urgent message, yet to Prometheus, he looked as if he had come to mock him. Seeing the gods powerless to oppose Zeus, they appeared weaker than mortals to him.
“Look, Prometheus, see what your beloved mortals have done. A fame-seeker set fire to Diana’s temple at dawn. Little by little, they wield fire against the gods. Soon they may conquer the cosmos itself, and if they set it aflame, you will become eternally guilty.”
Love’s name is pure, yet it’s a slave to lies! Despite being only thirteen, Jesse, who can already tell right from wrong, couldn’t understand how feelings could be deceiving. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find any flaws in love. So what if she’s forty years old? Love doesn’t care about age, after all. Besides, she’s got a fine appearance, earns well, and really, what does income have to do with happiness? Why don’t adults understand this? They keep interfering, and it’s getting on my nerves. “He’s got a wife and kids.” So what if he does? He loves me. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have rented a separate place for me, wouldn’t rush straight to me after work. Oh, and his sweet words! He’s unmatched in charm! His wife must be lucky, too. After all, what woman wouldn’t dream of living with such a charming, ideal man? Soon, he’ll be completely mine. I’ll fill my life with such happiness that my parents, who oppose me now, will regret it. They’ve done hardly anything for me—let them stop reminding me that they brought me into this world. They created me for their own pleasure!
There’s no point in holding onto such resentment; a person’s fate is in their own hands. I will decide my future and who my life partner will be. Actually, there’s nothing to feel sorry about—my friend Man’s family is just like mine. All parents are the same; they don’t let their children breathe freely. They make us feel indebted for the bit of bread they bring. They have no other right over us. We were born not by their will but by God’s will—they’re just intermediaries. Both of them always stay at the hospital, as if they need those disabled children, not me.
Man’s parents are both sales agents, always on trips. They’re off enjoying life in Italy, Germany, New Zealand, or Arabia. Poor Man has it even harder than I do. Even though he’s a boy, he also needs someone who would listen to his problems. He’s locked himself up in the garden shed behind his house day and night. The nanny his mother hired only cares about her paycheck. The house is big, and she’s got everything she needs. From morning till evening, she spends her time having fun with different friends. How could they hire such a young nanny? One day, when Man came home from school, he found her with a man, doing whatever they pleased. Since then, he hasn’t gone back home when his parents are away; he just goes to the garden. No one cares about his wishes. At least his parents don’t come interrogate him in the evening like mine do. Jesse decided to head to Man’s garden, hoping to get rid of all these thoughts and open up her heart. The two troubled souls would share their pain. Right now, they needed each other. They both had enough problems of their own.
Man grew up yearning for attention from a young age. He was very emotional, almost like a girl. His mother thought he was often crying because they weren’t around much, but in reality, his gentle nature made him sensitive. At school, he got along better with girls than with boys, and he refused to cut his hair short, despite his family’s wishes. His hair, curly and beautiful, was his pride. Other boys mocked him, calling him “girlish”. Distressed by this, he started avoiding school more and more, staying alone at home all the time. Man loved mirrors. Seeing himself and his surroundings in a beautiful state made him happy. It was fortunate his parents didn’t hold back financially; he decorated his room beautifully with various flowers. His parents hardly entered this room, which suited him well.
In his wardrobe, he had gathered various styles of girls’ dresses from the market. In his view, girls had it easy—they looked beautiful, and all the boys adored them. Unlike him, they could flirt and get whatever they wanted from anyone they liked. Every day, he would sit in front of the mirror, secretly using his mother’s makeup, trying on fancy dresses, and walking around in high heels. When Jessi visited, she barely recognized him. She was his closest friend; only she truly understood what he needed. She supported his desires wholeheartedly and was a free-spirited, thoughtful girl. If my figure were as delicate as hers, with a charming voice, the finest men in London would be following me, he dreamed. Although he believed everything suited him, he wasn’t satisfied with his body. Just as he was thinking about Jessi, she arrived.
“Maaan, Man, are you home? Hey, I’m here!” she called out. Man excitedly stepped out of his mirror-filled room. Jessika was more surprised than ever.
“Wow, Man, my god, you’re so beautiful! You know, you should have been born a girl, don’t you think?” she said.
“Yes, I was just thinking the same. I’ve decided to go through with metamorphosis. Living like this is unbearably hard; you can’t even imagine it. These feelings wrap me in dark clouds, suffocating me. You know, I’d do anything to rid myself of this masculinity. How could God create men so coarse? When there’s no one at home, I close my eyes and imagine myself like you. But when I open them, it’s back to this wretched life. I’ve completely lost myself. I’m deprived of all the comforts you have. Do you understand how painful loneliness is? My parents even took me to a therapist, thinking I was developing a mental disorder. Can they not see what’s in their own child’s heart, or do my feelings simply not matter to them? I want to live in someone’s heart with true love, just like you. Is that handsome guy you were seeing still in touch?”
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“Yes, we’re together almost every evening until around nine or ten after school. Unfortunately, I can’t stay out longer; if I’m not home when my family returns, they’ll be angry. It’s tough for both of us right now. How are your parents handling your decision? I assume they’re against it?”
“Of course, they’re happily living their own lives, and my desires don’t matter to them one bit. Any decision they make is right, while mine are always wrong. You know, I’m done listening to them, but I have to wait for now.”
“How do you plan to proceed?”
“I spoke to a skilled surgeon on a special website. They added me to a group where others like me communicate. He told me that if I take hormones for a year, my figure, skin, and facial features will soften. Since I’m still in puberty, the drugs will work effectively within six months. Can you imagine, I’ll have soft breasts like yours! That’s the most beautiful part of a figure!” Man spoke with such joy that Jessi felt his excitement, too. She was happy for her friend, realizing there was indeed a way. After all, you only live once, so you should be able to live in the gender you desire.
“If this miracle happens and I transform into a charming girl after the operation, the boys who laughed at me in school will all fall in love with me! I won’t even look at any of them. Instead, I’ll walk past with a tall, mysterious guy, right in front of them,” he dreamed aloud.
“Man, I hope all your dreams come true. I’ve heard about metamorphosis, and it will allow you to live a much happier life.”
“Yes, but at my age, I need my parents’ permission for surgery. Unless they pass away, the committee won’t approve it. That’s the troubling issue.”
“Don’t worry, everything will turn out fine. They’ll find a way to change your documents.”
***
Prometheus, even in his chained state, thought about intelligent beings capable of creating miracles. Zeus orchestrates everything. If humanity destroys itself as he says, it will be due to his tricks. It was certain that Zeus would come up with something utterly dreadful. Yet, everyone loves him because in this celestial prison, everyone loves the powerful. Even my mother, Themis, has ceased to help people out of fear and is mourning for the Titans. He must be brought back. The Titan, lost in thought, was suddenly enveloped by smoke. Hephaestus appeared, wielding his blazing hammer in the sky.
“My dear Prometheus, why did the Weaklings come to you and not check on your condition?”
“Do not involve humans in these matters.
“Are they not capable of saving you?
“They are only destined to save themselves.
“You are the only being who knows Zeus’s fate. Is it not clear to you what will become of humanity? On the day of reckoning, the heavens will collapse upon them, and the earth will swallow them whole.”
“How do you know this?
“Zeus has commanded me to go every day and drive new nails under Atlas‘s feet. How long do you think Atlas can endure such suffering? He holds up the sky of the Maghreb, and he bears witness to all your Weaklings’ actions. It is not from the nails I have driven that he suffers; do you understand? Every day he reads the horror stemming from the Weaklings’ skepticism.
“What miracles have humans shown? Whatever it is, let it serve good!”
“If you could see the condition of a young man named Man, just eighteen years old. Atlas wept so much for his tragedy that the entire Maghreb was flooded. He is entwined with a woman. Her name is Merry. Later, she wished to become a mother. The cleverness of humans cannot find a solution to this. The Creator has not made a man who can ever be. Although the human body can be transformed in a thousand ways, the inner ability and spirit are created by God to remain unchanged. From the lowly, goodness cannot emerge. A madman, having been unable to give birth to a child, has taken his own life. She murdered herself. Ask How?”
“How?”
“He has burned himself in fire. Without the time for death to come, he has taken his own life. Atlas has been weary for a thousand years watching such unfortunate ones. Do you not understand that no goodness can come from them for a thousand years?”
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“I have done all the help within my reach. The Weaklings have been given understanding. As long as I am in chains, let them understand now.”
“The Weaklings are rebelling against God. They are crossing over from the commanded body, whether a man becomes a woman or a woman becomes a man. They are thousands, and the number of those who are growing in skepticism is increasing. This too is a gift of the intelligence you have given. Atlas will collapse the whole sky. Then you will be freed from sin, and the Weaklings will be liberated from their unworthy lives.”
“Now, the last decision will be made not by you or me, but by Atlas. I have been shown the future of not humans, but deities. Whatever it may be, humanity will see it written on their foreheads.”
“O weak mortals before the gods!” Hermes said, and with that, the sun dimmed and disappeared. Prometheus, as if to shake the Caucasus, cried out: “O weak mortals before the gods!”
Translated from Uzbek into English by Maftuna Abdurasulova
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