The flowers of the messenger of happiness

By Nasiba | Uzbekistan

When the two women came to the cafe- shop, there was no one, let alone three or four people. Since the hall was empty, the bell like sounds of women, the clatter of shoes, and the noise of the chairs being pushed could be heard. A suspicious man was sitting in the corner, wrapped in a dark cloak, his black hat pulled down over his eyes, and his heavy body was sitting on the back of a chair. He was seemed bothered. He said himself silently

– There is no peace even here because of these women. They don’t even want forget their presence. Wasn’t enough to mumble in your home, office or on the street?

He muttered and pulled his hat tighter over his eyes, pulling it tight. The women did not notice him and stopped at the table next the man. They do not see what is next to them with open eyes, it is an old habit of the human race.

– How nice. It’s quiet and cozy,- one said sadly.

– My husband likes this place very much. Sometimes we come on weekdays,- said the second one solemnly.

– Hmm…- said the another woman not liking her words, but immediately added,- Come, let’s sit in the light.

– No, no. I’d rather sit looking at the window.

My husband always says so, the woman emphasized her words and smiled. The other woman didn’t hid that she was fed up. Mahfuza giggled and began to order the waitress.

– Mashkura, what do we drink?

– What do you mean, Mahfuza? – And she also laughed.

– Cognac, wine… the man whispered raising his hat.

– Do they have any nationality, if so, who are they. He began to watch the women with a frown. In front of him sat a thirty- five years- old, handsome women, dressed in modern fashion.

– Mashkura, tell me what do you want, green or black tea?

– You know it yourself,- her friend raised her dark, thick eyebrows, blinked her beautiful eyes, and pursed her lips.

– It’s good… the man lowered his hat to his eyes and took a deep breath.

– At that moment, a flower seller with a bouquet of flowers appeared at the door and began to come straight towards them. Women’s eyes sparkled. The flower seller who arrived looked at the women with envy, handed them a bouquet.

However, the sad, tired, young, wrinkled face was not at all suitable for this beauty.

– Get a beautiful flowers like you,- said flower seller.

– It’s not enough for me right,- sighed Mashkura and turned away.

– In what connection? It’s not necessary, – said Mahfuza even though she really wanted to buy flowers.

– Please, get my flower s…- the flower seller was a little confused.

– Oh, it’s not good. They didn’t buy flowers,- the man smiled softly.

– Mashkura, what do we drink?

– Would they have taken it you had brought them a similar one? He thought.

– Your dress is great, let it be Mubarak, – Mashkura said with pleasure – What is the fabric? She stretched out and took hold of the dress.

– Dod, it’s still a damn shirt… The man gritted his teeth.

– Thanks- Mahfuza laughs with pleasure and asked,- Why did you call me here? Have you reconciled with your husband yet?

– I am talking, he’s not saying anything. Mashkura began aimless through her bag of papers.

– It’s been a month,- She looked carefully at her friend. I think, there is another woman between us. I need your advice.

– Let’s face it, he was merely upset with you.

– I think he is doing something,- Mashkura said while helping the waitress to settle foods on the table, continued talking,- Whatever happened, it is not good. I don’t want to be in regret.

-The man who was sitting at the table next to women, – whispered- They want to tie your tail, my friend.

– I am sorry you are bad person, I know your actions. When your husband says “my dear” your head is high and reaches to the sky, and you are flying on seventh heaven. Why don’t you show that?

– He hadn’t said me “my dear”, and he wouldn’t say.

– If he doesn’t say then you couldn’t be his soul. It’s your fault!

– Why do you blame me? Let there be no husband! Let the earth swallow!

The man at the other table sat down well in his chair, pressed his hat tighter to his eyes and began to think with hatred.

– Uff, there is no peace here either. Shall I not come with cotton in my ears?! Stick out your tongue. What the hell, these are my wife’s friends. They say the same things. They are all the same, I wish they would go sooner…

– The sky is on your nose,-Mahfuza said with a smile.

– Oh, I am asking if he needs tea or food. He doesn’t answer.

– I’ve read somewhere that a man is dependent on a woman from birth to death. He lives on them for a lifetime. First he takes care of his mother, then he marries. He looks for mother’s love and care from his wife without realizing it. As a wife, cheer him up, but be kind and forgiving like a mother. If you don’t take care of yourself, it will be difficult for you. Our mothers say “husband is also a big boy”!

– That’s enough, don’t talk! I don’t want to hear you, it touched my soul.

– You are the one who asks an advice,- said Mahfuza. A good word is never followed bya bad word. A bad word is the enemy of a mind.

– I’ve finished speaking well. Only husbands have a heart?! Mashkura fixed her short hair. Then she took glasses out of her bag and began to read her papers. Mahfuza watched her for a while, she couldn’t stand it and continued talking.

– You speak well from the day you died. Fill your heart with love, and speak with love in your eyes.

– Uff, I am bad again!

-Come on, comrade, give it a try!

– Even women who have completely devoted themselves to their husbands are being abandoned by their husbands.

-It’s one thing to sacrifice yourself blindly, it’s another thing to sacrifice yourself as a proud woman,- Mahfuza looked at her friend’s glasses and smiled.- If you can’t live in agreement with your husband, how would you be defining science.

-She is defined as a science- the men shook his head unknowingly- My wife will be also defined as a science soon” ,- he thought.

– Where is your knowledge if you can’t please your husband?!

-I’ll say she is a professor,- The man woke up and raised his hat a little.

– I would have known if I didn’t work like you and stayed at home- said Mashkura pushing the papers away. Besides your husband is understanding man.

– Imm, what do you say, we haven’t talked for fifteen days,- Mahfuza sighed deeply and hid her eyes.

– Really? Mashkura took off her glasses and looked at her.

– Yes, we won’t talk like this for another fifteen days, maybe?!

They stared at each other, then burst out laughing.

– Are your tips not working for you? – Yes, I am asking you for things that I can’t do. Maybe you can do it….although Mahfuza was smiling, there was a look of regret in her eyes. They rated me as the most perfect woman. There are unfulfilled dream stones pressing on my heart. I don’t want to just show them. I hide them with my happy smiles. There was a long silence. Mashkura sighed as she played with the old and dirty artificial flowers in a simple vase placed on the table.

– Why we didn’t buy those flowers, comrade, for some reason, I liken happiness to a bouquet.

– I think, – said Mashkura- It is happiness. The more bouquets you get from the people you wait for, the happier you are.

– Voy, Masskura- said Mahfuza suddenly blushing- there is a suspicious person sitting in the corner. He seems to be hearing us.

– Where? Mashkura looked at him,- If he hears, he will hear.

– We are talking about our inner secrets and feelings. It’s uncomfortable for a stranger, to reveal these things, even in front of our loved ones,- said Mahfuza.

– Actually, we should learn to speak. Maybe, if it is easy for them to understand us.

Have you ever paid attention? They will freely tell each other their feelings, which they could not tell us, could not explain, and they certainly show them. Why is that, you know? Because they speak openly. Because we can’t bear to listen them. Or vice versa.

-Then so…..You have a reason to hate, but you have no right. You have a right to love, you have no basis,- the man mumbled.

– I don’t like this man, it’s strange. I am looking backwards- Mahfuza passed the other image and sat down- What was I talking about? – Haa, patience… A wife doesn’t receive her husband’s love, she should not be considered herself a wife.

– What if I don’t want to make love to my husband?

– There is no such woman in the world. Except for those who want to get rid of their husbands. Do you also to get rid of your husband?   The mysterious one in the corner is smiling with satisfaction.

– Oh, it’s OK. I wish my wife was here too. She would be listen to them.

Mashkura’s eyes filled with tears, she turned her face away, so as not to show it.

– Do you think men are innocent?

– Not so much. But a lot depends on the woman.

– Anyway, let it be a woman, right?

– Listen, our neighbor got his son married. The bride was very beautiful and young… The groom was staying in a faraway city and only came on vocations. The groom didn’t want to get the bride with himself, he was afraid if someone can get the bride in his way. Then the bride went home, bored with loneliness. No one was interested in the fact. That the bride’s husband did not interested in with the bride’s wishes or dreams,

– Is it right?

– Is it a sin for a man to be indifferent to his duty? Many thought a woman has forty souls along, but forgot her another- very elegent and delicate soul- her heart. Think yourself, silk fabric will burn even with a weak flame. It is foolish to ask a woman to withstand fire like iron.

– Let a man takes care of and protects her – only delicate soul, which belongs to a man, – said Mashkura with angry, wiping the tears from her eyes with pain. Then…then…It would be late… The man couldn’t sit still. His grateful eyes secretly looked at the women with a sense of forgiveness and compassion. Thanks for great conversation. Oh, my silly head. My wife… she must be crying too, he thought sadly and walked out.

The women looked at each other with a slight pull.

– What are you going to do now- Mahfuza asked.

– I don’t know. I think there is another woman between us.

– Oh, ask him, demand him to tell the truth!

-It’s useless to talk. It’s easy abroad, the act differently and it’s true.

Why can’t we do same? Why is that, we make one mistake, we will never be happy again?

– Mashkura stared at Mahfuza as if all her problems would be solved, if she found the answers to these questions.

– The men have strong self-confidence. They are not afraid to take risks. The women have no confidence, we are cowards. This fear gives us desire, will and strength to protect our family for a lifetime. Our happiness is also like that.

– It has touched my soul, I will divorce. Whatever happens,- said Mashkura, relaxed and indifferent.

– The man sat down his place, the women did not notice him.

– No, collect your mind,- said Mahfuza, looking at her friend. People look at with a pity, whom are divorcing women. A woman who lives with her husband is treated with respect. I don’t know how can do it, but you can make a good husband yourself. This is the duty of a wife. It’s just my opinion.

– Should I divorce when my children grow up? I’ll bear him now- Mashkura smiled sincerely.

-Well, OK, this is what we said. Your hair is blond, eyes are blue, but mind is Uzbek, it’s good,- the man thought sarcastically.

– Don’t bear… Prove that you love him, and you need for him, and convince him; give free rein to your feelings, why are you hesitating, he is your husband. Maybe, that is what he wanted.

– OK, OK- Mashkura said with a soulless smile – I’ll try.

The women were in a strange situation. Then, they began paying waitress and leaving the cafe.

At that moment the flower seller visited in again buried flowers.

It seems no one have bought flowers. The flower seller unexpectedly surprised the friends and handed them two very beautiful bouquets.

– Here, take them.

– What are they?

The man wanted me to give these flowers to you.

– Who is he?

– The messenger of happiness.

– Repentance, who is he?

– He is a handsome man- the flower seller looked at the man in the corner without realizing it.

– What was his appearance? Mahfuza asked. It’s wonderful.- He looks like Uzbek,- she looked around the corner again. Seeing that man, smiled, she knew that she was speaking the truth. Yes, he is Uzbek.

– Is the messenger of happiness Uzbek?

– What happened to Uzbek,- answered the flower seller getting angry. Maybe every nation has it’s own the messenger of happiness. The flower seller is also great. But she mustn’t expose me, that man thought.

– Looking like someone is testing us? Friends looked around with interest.

– Tell the truth, why are you giving us flowers for free? – asked Mahfuza looking at flower seller.

– I needn’t give you flowers for free. That man paid money for flowers and said he is messenger of happiness and asked me giving flowers to you.

– Who is he? He is a handsome and a tall man.

– Take them if you want, you know yourselves if you don’t. The flower seller put the flowers on the table. Mashkura reluctantly reached for flowers.

– Shell we take Mahfuza. Maybe a miracle will happen?

– We will get them, we will certainly get the gifts of the messenger of happiness. How much will they cost?

– Who do you think I am? The flower sellers lips trembled,- I said the money has been paid.

– Here is the money, we can’t get flowers for free from a stranger.

– I can’t either- the flower seller put the money in front of Mashkura.

– Don’t rush… Mahfuza took the bouquets and handed one to her friend, passed the other to her lap.

Mashkura hesitantly took the flowers, pushed the money on the table away. Anyway, I won’t get that money back.

– Can’t you take it- Mahfuza asked and took the money, handed it to the flower seller? Mahfuza chose the biggest and most beautiful of the bouquets and gave it to the flower seller.

– This is for you!

– For me, why?

– A gift from that messenger of happiness to you.

-Oh, the wise women of my Uzbek. The man smiled proudly. Anyone else will find solvation as these.

The friends happily waved to the flower seller as they left. The flower seller tried to answer, but her eyes filled with tears.

– Hmm, well done …The man stood tall and took his hat in his hand. He came out of the dark corner and faced to the flower seller.

– Thank you, you did a great job. Give two more from your bouquets. One for my wife at home and one for you. Please, take it.

As the man left, the woman pressed flowers in her hand and whispered:

– What’s going on? What a wonderful day today was.

Her face lit up like flowers. She looked really beautiful. Her pale face and her red fingers were beautiful too.

_________________

Nasiba, born in Uzbekistan, writes short stories and poems. Her poems and short stories were published in newspapers, such Oila plus, Bekajon, Darakchi. She is a teacher at a school.

Translator: Vasilahon Artikova