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Трансформация - Рашида Юсуфи

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or wrong. And we still go on. For example, my lost friends. Can they be even called friends? Perhaps, we should be more selective in choosing friends. We should choose them. And do not let them to choose us. Currently, I look at people from a different perspective. I analyze their behaviors and words. I evaluate their values in life.

Today, I appreciate equality and justice. I value honesty and humanity. My criterion of success is not being an Olympic winner but being passioned about what I do. And what values I create for my community.

Scent of a mother

She was sitting at the table and working on her laptop. My mother was always busy writing some projects. She was full of energy and new ideas. She had a couple of very successful business cases. When I entered her room, she looked at me with a smile on her face. Her eyes radiated kindness. Her face conveyed courage and resilience. She was like a coconut: hard – outside, soft – inside.

“I am dying” – said mom smiling.

I started crying. What? Why? What happened? But there was no response. I just remembered her beautiful and happy face. “It is OK, babe. I will be fine”, she continued.

I did not understand. She was in front of me. She looked strong and healthy. I was not able to control my emotions. I wept like a baby. Next thing I heard – an alarm sound “apex” from my iPhone. I woke up. It was just a dream. My tears ran down my cheeks like a water from the tap. How would I live without her? I hoped she was fine. I had to call her.

I was a student in Turkey while my mom lived in Tajikistan. Since my childhood I had been so much attached to my mother, not only emotionally, but physically. I used to sleep in her room with her from the day I was born. Until I left for university. I knew it was not an easy decision for my mom to make. To let me go. In my country, girls were not allowed to attend schools. They couldn’t travel alone to another country. Parents were afraid. Their baby girls would be spoiled. In my case, I had two cousins studying at the same university with me. I was lucky. Therefore, my family agreed to let me study abroad.

The next day I went downstairs. I usually use the phone in dormitory to call outside. I called my mom. She did not pick up the phone. I called my brother.

– Hello. How are you?

– I am fine. Where is my mom?

– Mmm she is sleeping.

– It is daytime? Come on. Is she fine? I had a dream…are you sure she is ok?

– Yes…don’t worry. You know her. She works all night until morning. She is just resting. I will ask her to call you back. When she is awake.

– Ok. I have to go. Bye.

I trusted my brother. He never lied to me. So, I felt better and went back to my room. After a couple of days, I received a phone call. It was mother. I picked up the phone. She sounded sad. She confirmed that she was totally fine. Except, small headache. I was so happy to hear her voice. She was alive. My soul has found peace.

Two more months passed. Final exams were over. I returned home to my family. We had nice talk with mother. Discussed my future plans after graduation. Also, she told me about herself. It turned out that she had a bad car accident. It was the same period when I had dream about her. I found out when I called her last time, she was at the hospital for a month. Another month – she received treatment at home. Just recently she was back to work. I said: “So, my dream was a massage for me. Oh, God. I could lose you, mom. Why did not you tell me?” Mom replied that she did not want me to be worried. She added: “you had exams. I wanted you to be focused on them. You need to study well. You should get proper education. To survive in this world. To fit yourself. I am better now. I will be fine”.

She was convincing me that she was fine. But I was feeling terribly guilty. Maybe if I was here, this would not happen to her. I was not able to protect her.

Unfortunately, I had to go back to Turkey. My last semester. I had to complete what I had started.

Two months later. My grandmother. She was in the balcony. She looked so nervous. The house started shaking as if it was an earthquake. She ran toward the corridor. She took her shoes. Put on one of them. The second pair she was not able to put on. She was in such a hurry. She left the house. But only with one shoe on her foot….

I opened my eyes. It was a dream, again. I was worried. What was going on at home? I was afraid of my dreams. I never knew what to expect from them. A week later, my brother phoned me: “We lost our cousin Jonny”.

Jonny was 32 years old. He got married last year. No kids yet. His wife was on a business trip in Khujand city. It was 8 hours from our city. He sat down on the windowsill on the balcony. They were talking on the phone. The mobile connection was poor. So, he leaned a little towards the street to be able to hear her better. Lost his balance and fell from the window. 4th floor. Hit his head. Died instantly.

I never understood my dreams. If only I could know what they meant. I could warn the people involved. Two more months. Final exams. Graduation ceremony. My

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