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#Tarix #MarkaziyOsiyo #Yevrosiyo #Iqtisodiy\_Tarix #Taraqqiyot #Ijtimoiy\_Tarix #Talaba\_kundaligi Muallif: Dilrabo Tursunova

Surrounded with shelves of pickles, old bicycles, and gardening tools, it took my eyes some time to adjust to the dark. Within minutes, I was hiccupping from too much crying. My grandpa let me out and we spent the day with our usual routine, yet I was too sad.
That night I didn’t sleep, I waited for the morning. As soon as the daylight started breaking through pitch darkness, I got up and run to school. Interestingly, the school gates were closed and locked. I started banging the gate with a stone. Uncle Qorovul came out from his cabin next to the library building rubbing his eyes. I explained everything to him, occasionally looking over my shoulder to see if my mom wasn’t coming after me. He let me in. We even had a breakfast, bread with qaymoq** in his cabin before I went to my classroom.
That morning our first class was interrupted by my mom and the school director. Caught again, I started packing my notebooks and pens. But the director announced my mom should bring my documents and I was officially accepted to grade one.
Today I am far away from Konibodom. I miss the apricot trees of the village. And my grandpa is no longer with us.
I miss our lessons, talks with him. And I miss our walks to the barn the most.


3/3

@MenSenvaUlar2

Are you still with me? Good. I might be getting too nostalgic with my memories from Konibodom and about my grandpa and could go on and on. So not to bore you with my rumbling any longer, let me tell you one little story from those days.

One day, I decide to pay a visit to my mom while she is at work. Her workplace, the village school being six houses and one chaykhana away from grandpa’s, it doesn’t take me much to get there. The only challenge to find the classroom where my mom would be teaching at that exact hour. By now, I know five - six classrooms she would likely be. I am not tall enough to peek through the keyholes, I put my earlobe on the doors instead. This day, I find her on the second floor, drawing the solar system on the board.
Quiet classroom fills with giggles and laughter as soon as I enter the room. On one side my mom furious at me for interrupting her class, on the other side, whole class trying to get my attention. Almost everyone is begging me to seat next to them. Ha! I see Nemat Terak* among them calling my name enthusiastically. The other day, he made us chase him the whole neighborhood for our ball that he took away. Now totally ignoring his pleadings, I pick a guy in front of him to sit next to and I shoot a victorious look at him. I ask the guy for a pen and paper. By now my mom manages to quiet the class somehow, but this guy next to me continues whispering and asking me questions. I tell him to shut up and concentrate on the lesson. I, myself start copying the solar system from the board. At that moment, the door opens and enters the school director. Seeing me among the students:
‘Your little one is again here today? She seems very interested in coming to school. Why don’t you let her to attend Shoira’s grade one and see if she likes it?’
‘But she is only four years old, how can she study with the kids three years older than her. No, she is too young’ refuses my mom.

That evening with the help of my grandpa, I manage to convince my mom. Now I have to get ready to school next day. I have no supplies, no school bag. I run to my cousins, get some notebooks, pens, and an old bag from previous years. It has no back straps, just a handle on top. No problem! If I lean to one side a bit, I can manage walking without it touching the ground. I didn’t bother with school uniform much and went on my first day with slippers on my foot. I went three days in a row. I was getting ready on the fourth day, alas, my mom grabbed me by my elbow and next I found myself locked up in the basement. I could hear her arguing with grandpa:
‘She is too young. She barely reaches the board. I thought she would get tired and bored by sitting for hours in the class, yet she is getting more eager day by day. It needs to stop.’ And off she went to work.

2/3

@MenSenvaUlar2

Barn Lessons
for Grandpa
Dear reader, let me take you on a tour today. If you take a bus from Tashkent to Kokand going through the province of Sughd, just before reaching Beshariq, the outskirts of Kokand, you get to enjoy the sweetest scents from forty types of apricots that ripen in the orchard fields of Konibodom. Heavy from their golden harvest, the trees bow to the ground as if welcoming you. At the far distance, behind the vast orchards your eyes could rest on the emerald waters of Kairakum reservoir.

A couple of years of my childhood is spent between two neighboring villages of Konibodom, Hamijo’ and Kuchkak. The years being 1994 - 1996, the peak of the economic crisis following the collapse of the Soviet Union, the ongoing civil war on the south of the country, non-stop quarrels between my parents, my mom and me going back and forth between two villages, between two homes, three/four-year-old myself was living my childhood, much unaware of what was going around me.

It was at my maternal grandpa’s place, I felt the happiest. My mom being away at work during the days, my grandpa and me would spend our days together in his grand home.

There were two separate buildings, ustki uy (higher home) and pastki uy (lower home) with a pomegranate orchard in between. The orchard itself was cut by the middle with concrete pavement, roses blooming on each side. Grapevines with black, red, and white chandeliers divide the orchard and open space of the pastki uy, giving a full shade to the yard and even partly covering the rooftop.

Recently retired school math teacher of fifty years, my grandpa would busy himself feeding the sheep three times a day with two course meals. First, we serve vegetable and fruit peelings followed by forage and lastly serve water in backets. With much of the cooking and living happening in pastki uy, all the food and water is kept in the porch there. We would be doing nine trips a day going through the rosy pavement, around ustki uy to the corner of the back orchard, to the barn. On the way and as my grandpa feeds the sheep, four-year-old curious me would bombard him with questions after questions. He in turn would answer and explain everything meticulously and with lots of affection. We would learn various folklore, prose, and poems. It is back then, I learnt by heart Hamid Olimjon’s epic poem - Oygul bilan Baxtiyor, and Erkin Vohidov’s ode - O’zbegim. We had already mastered basic arithmetic and alphabet. In the evenings, my two cousins, both boys and much older than me would join us for grandpa’s classes. He would teach us old Uzbek script (Arabic letters) and as well as Ayats* from Koran.

1/3

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​​2/2

Kitob mutolaasini tadbir ertansi kuni davom ettirdim va oxirgi qismini bugun o’qib tugatdim. Tolstoyning o’limi junbog’i, Peterburgdagi muz saroyi va uning adabiyotda aks etilishi, Babel Isaac haqida xalqaro konferensiya, va Dosteyevskiy asarlari orqali adabiy nazariya tahlili, orasida Batumanning mazkur safarlar va universitetda kechgan voqealarni kulgi ostiga olib yozishi, men ham nimadirlar o’rganib, ham kayfim chog’ o’qiyotgandim.

Va nihoyat Samarqandda o’zbek tilini o’rganishi voqealariga keldim. Asli rus adabiyoti tadqiqotchisi sifatida bakalavrlarga rus tili darsi o’tishi kerak. U esa osonroq yo’lni tanlaydi, o’zbek tili turkiy til bo’lsa, tez o’rganib olaman, ham dars o’rgatganda xato qilsam talabalar ham, kafedrada ham itam o’zbekcha bilmaydi, tak chto hammasi yaxshi bo’ladi deb, Samarqandga otlanadi. Samolyotdan tushib qarasa atrofda hamma tojikcha gapiryapti. Buyog’i qiziq bo’ldiku deydi Batuman, shunisini Google qilmay kelgan ekan. Gulya ismli bir ajabtovur ayolning xonadoniga o’rnashadi. Bu Batumanni qachon ko’chaga chiqishidan tortib nima yeyishigacha osh - qatiq. Bir qarasang chumoli bosgan murabbo beradimiyey. Xullas mezbon ayol klassik “o’zbek mehmondo’zligi” fenomeniga putur yetkazadigan ko’p ishlarni qiladi.

Universitetda esa Batuman Dilorom ismli o’qituvchidan eski o’zbek adabiyotidan dars ola boshlaydi. Boshqa talaba yigit esa unga o’zbek tilidan dars bera boshlaydi. Kitobda adabiyot va til saboqlaridan avval Batuman “chalkash” o’zbek etnogenezi va tarixi haqida biroz so’zlaydi. Keyin esa shoir va yozuvchilarmiz avtobiografiyasining e’tiborini tortgan jihatlaridan (odatda kulgulilari) so’zlaydi.

To’g’risi, voqealar Stanford, Peterburg, Anatoliyada kechayotganda o’zim ham maza qilib kulayotgandim. Lekin bu bo’limlarida vatanparvarligim jo’sh urib ketdimi yoki, shu kunga qadar Bobur va Mashrab ustidan kimdir ochiqchasiga kalaka qilganini ko’rmaganim uchunmi, xullas, kulolmadim. Asli Batumanning adabiyotimiz yoinki tilimizni o’rganaman deb ko’zi uchib turmagandi, ustiga - ustak mezbon ayolning nomaqulchiliklari, to’g’risi unga ham rahmim keldi. Samolyotga chiqayotganida g’azal-u, ruboiylar tahlilidek azoblardan qutilganidan bir xursand bo’lgan bo’lsam, adabiyotimiz mazax qilinishi tugaganidan ikki xursand bo’ldim.

Shunaqa gaplar, azizlar, yumorga boy qalami yoqqan yozuvchi o’zimiz haqimizda kulgiga olib yozsa tegib ketdi. Men o’ylardimki natsionalistik aqidalarimni ortda qoldirib ancha xolis fikrlaydigan bo’lib qolganman deb…

​​Elif Batumanning kitoblarini o’qiydigan qiz sarguzashtlari. 1/2
Diqqat: Bu postni hammadan ham ko’ra o’zim uchun yozmoqdaman va haminqadar uzun bo’lishi aniq.

Elif Batumanni ilk The Idiot (Telba) asari orqali tanidim. Harvardda birinchi kurs tilshunoslik talabasi bo’lmish Selin hayotidan so’zlovchi avtobiografik – badiiy asar bo’lib, yozuvchining o’z talabalik davri voqealaridan ilhomlanib yozilgan. Kulguli, ba’zan absurd voqealar guvohi bo’lsak-da, menga ayni Selinning aqlida unga hamrohlik qilish, uning o’ylariga sherik bo’lish yoqqandi. 18 yosh qiz, eng nufuzli oliygoh talabasi, favqulodda aqlli, va bu aqlini hamma narsaga ishlatib ko’rishni istaydi, ko’p narsalarni so’roqqa tutadi. 18 yosh qiz, hissiy va ruhiy jihatdan endi shakllanayotgan, yetuklikka intilayotgan shaxs, va yoshiga monand g’o’r, tajribasiz va beqaror. U men uchun badiiy qahramon emas, balki xuddi Elifning o’zidek, 100% haqqoniy inson bo’lib aqlimda gavdalangandi. Bundan tashqari, tilshunoslik haqidagi (rus tilini o’rganish, turk tilidagi ayrim elementlar tahlili o’rin olgan) qismlar bu ikki tilni bilganim uchun anchayin qiziq tuyilgandi.

Shunday qilib Batuman meni o’ziga xos yumorga boy va qahramonini o’ta haqqoniy gavdalantiruvchi qalami bilan jalb qildi. So’ngra uning The Possessed: Adventures with Russian Books and The People Who Read Them (Rus kitoblariga mukkasidan ketganlarning sarguzashtlari) kitobini oldim. Kitobda uning rus adabiyotini tadqiq qilish bo’yicha doktorantura yillaridagi ilmiy sayohatlari/ esselari o’rin olgan. Yanada yoqib tushgani, Batuman O’zbekistonga o’zbek tili va adabiyotini o’rgangani borgani haqida esselar ham o’rin olgani bo’ldi. Xullas, kitobni olgandim, lekin hali o’qishga fursat bo’lmagandi.

Iyunni boshrog’ida tug’ilgan kunimni nishonlash uchun Seattlega borishni reja qilib yurgandim. Batumanning ijtimoiy sahifasida 3-iyun kuni Seattleda Either/Or kitobi taqdimoti bo’lib o’tishini ko’rib qoldim. Hech ikkilanmay 3-iyunga borish va majbur 7- iyunga qaytish chiptasi oldim. Tug’ilgan kunim esa 8- iyun. Ko’pi bilan 5 kunga keta olardim, tu’g’ilgan kunim esa samolyotda va parvoz charchog’i bilan o’tadigan bo’ldi. Safarga o’zim bilan hamroh qilib, albatta, The Possessedni olib oldim. Aeroportda, parvoz chog’i o’qib ketdim.

Kitob to’rtta rus adabiyoti namoyondari haqidagi esselar va Batumanning bir yozni Samarqandda o’tkazgani haqidagi sayohatnoma/ xotirasidan iborat edi. Kitob taqdimotiga qadar ayni rus adabiyoti haqidagi qismlarini o’qigandim.

Either/ Or The Idiotning davomi sifatida yozilgan roman, va Selinning universitetda ikkinchi kurs sarguzashtlari haqida so’zlaydi. Tadbir ajoyib kechdi. Batumanni ovozi/ so’zlari/ o’ylari men yaxshi ko’rib qolganim Selinning o’zginasi, qancha so’zlasa shuncha tinglardim.

Tabdir yakunida kitoblarimga dasxat olgani navbatda turibman. Turkcha gapirsammi, yoki ruscha, balki o’zbekcha gapirsam… yo’q, Batuman amerikalik bo’lsa, kitoblarini inglizchada o’qigan bo’lsam, inglizcha gapiraveray… The Idiotni qanchalik yaxshi ko’rganimni, eng yoqqan joylari haqida aytishni o’yladim, keyin hozir The Possessed’ni o’qiyotganimni aytaman… navbatim yetgani sari hayajon kuchaya bordi. Yuragim duk – duk urishi xayollarimni to’zg’atib yuborardi. Mana meni galim, amerikancha keng tabassum bilan qarshilab oldi.

Salom berib, kitoblarni uzatdim. Ismimni so’radi. Dilrabo. Boshqa turklarga o’xshab shartta “Dilruba” deb yozib ketmadi, aksincha, amerikaliklarga xos harflab aytishimni so’radi va to’g’ri yozdi. Men esa, ha yo’q, be yo’q, tomdan tushganday “ O’zbekistondanman. The Idiot ko’p yoqdi, ayniqsa, turk tilidagi “– mish – mish”ning tahlil qilingan yeri. Hozir The Possesed’ni o’qiyapman, qiziq Samarqand haqida nimalar yozgan ekansiz?” dedim. Yo’g’ey,- deya, O’zbek tilining qiyinligi, ayniqsa, fe’lning tuslanishi murakkabligini aytib qoldi. Shundan keyin nima deyishni bilmadim, hayajondan to’liq tilimni yutgandim. Serrayib turaverdim. Sukunat. Ruchkaning tovushi. Dasxat qo’yib bo’lib, kitoblarni tuzqazarkan, “kelganingiz uchun rahmat” - dedi. Javob tarzida nima deganim esimda yo’q.

​​Fitrat domlaning “Munozara” asari 1911- yil ilk bor fors tilida Istanbulda nashr qilingan. Bundan qariyb 111 yil o’tib, mazkur asar o’rin olgan kitob va men Istanbuldamiz.

To’liq nomi: Hindistonda bir farangi ila buxoroli mudarrisning jadid maktablari xususinda qilg’an munozarasi.

Tarjimon: Hamidulla Boltaboyev.

O’z nomiga ko’ra asar munozara ko’rinishida yozilgan bo’lib, ikki taraf (madrasa mudarrisi va bir o’qimishli nasroniy farangi) baxsiga guvoh bo’lamiz. XX asr boshlarida marifatparvar jadidlar millat taraqqiyoti najotini ilmda ko’rib, zo’r berib yangi usul maktablari ocha boshlaydilar. Bu maktablarda ham diniy va dunyoviy ilmlar samarali usullar yordamida malakali o’qituvchi va darsliklar asnosida o’rgatiladi. Yangi raqobatchilarini maydonga chiqishiga esa eski maktabdoru, madrasa ulamolari tish - tirnog’i bilan qarshi bo’lishadi. Tor ma’noda mazkur ziddiyatli vaziyatni, keng miqyosda esa butun Buxorodagi ta’lim jarayoni, undagi muammolar tanqid qilinadi.
Maktab va madrasa ta’limiga 30 yil umr va qancha mablag’ ketkaziladi-yu, o’rganilgan ma’lumotlar barmoq bilan sanarli, xattoki arab tili ham tayinli o’rganilmaydi. O’qish davri uzunligi, madrasalar faqat markazda/uzoqligi bois qizlar ta’limdan bebahra qolayotganligi aytiladi.

Keng yoyilgan ommaviy ilmsizlikning ta’magirlik, poraxo’rlik va alal oqibatda tanazzulga, musulmon o’lkalari nasroniylar mustamlakalariga aylanishi, shu jumladan, Buxoro yerlarining qo’ldan ketishi, qolgan qismi ham Rus imperiyasi vassaliga aylanganligi bayon etiladi.

Bir yoqda bir qolipda qotib qolgan eskicha ta’lim tarafdori mudarris, boshqa yoqda ham islomdan, ham forschadan, ham dunyoviy ilmlardan xabardor va qiziquvchan farangi, ikkisini kinoya-yu hangomaga boy til bilan Fitrat domla so’zlatar ekan, ahvolimizga achiq - achiq kula - kula o’qib munozara tugaganini sezmay ham qolasiz.

Asar xotimasida: “Insonning boshqa maxluqotdan sharafi shundaki, inson taraqqiyot va tanazzulga qobildir…” deb yozilgan. Taraqqiyot uchun esa - ilm darkor.

@MenSenvaUlar2

Tunov kuni bir tanishim bilan Ves Anderson tomonidan ishlangan “Itlar oroli” nomli multfilm ko’rgani bordik ( Film hayvonlar shelterlarini qo’llab quvvatlovchi Sokofest loyihasi tomonidan namoyish qilindi). Hozir film haqida emas, namoyishdan avval bo’lgan bir voqea bois mulohazalarimni yozmoqdaman.

Loyiha tashkilotchilari namoyish oldidan loyiha haqida qisqacha aytib berishgandan keyin, tamoshobinlarni qiziqtirgan savollarga ham biroz javob berishdi. Old qatorda o’tirgan rusiy zabon bir yigit so’rab qoldi: Nega o’zi Toshkentda it boquvchilar kam? Ko’chalarda itini sayr qildirib yurganlarga kam ko’zim tushyapti. Rossiyada buni aksi, ko’p odamlar it boqadi, ko’chalarda ko’p ko’rasiz. Yana Rossiyada bunaqa, unaqa, Toshkent esa bunaqa ekan va h.k. Aftidan Putin opressiyasi va G’arb sanksiyalarining Rossiya iqtisodiyotiga ta’siridan yaqinda Toshkentga qochib kelgan insonga o’xshaydi. Bu insonni noo’rin savollari kamiga, tashkilotchilardan bo’lgan qizning hijolatomuz, aybdor ohangidagi tushuntirishi odamni o’yga toldirdi. “Endi, bu yerda mentalitet boshqa, odamlarni dunyoqarashi boshqa, ko’p qavatli uyda it asrashni xohlamaydi, it aylantirishga yetarli parklar yo’q va h.k”. Shundan keyin ham u bola, Rossiyani maqtashdan qolmadi.

Aslida Rus imperializmi, mustamlakachiligi, ayrim/balki ko’pchilik ruslarning Markaziy Osiyo xalqlari va madaniyati/qadriyatlariga past nazarda qarashi, hattoki til bilish darajasi va terisini rangi bois ochiq diskriminatsiya qilishi juda katta mavzu. Lekin qochqin yoxud muhojir sifatida kelgan mazkur inson hech qursa, bunaqa o’ylab - o’ylamay solishtirishdan avval, kelayotgan davlati haqida o’rgansa, qadriyatlariga hurmat ko’rsatsa yaxshi bo’lardi.

Bundan tashqari ijtimoiy tarmoqlarda Rossiyadan qochib kelayotganlarga nisbatan “ekspat” so’zi qo’llanilayotgani odamni hayron qoldiradi.

Bizning vatandoshlar tinch zamonda Rossiyaga ishlash uchun borganda, mehnat muhojiri ba’zan kamisitilib “qoralar”, “gastarbaytar” degan tamg’a qo’yilganda, siyosiy - iqtisodiy tang holat, urushdan kelgan odamlarga nega “ekspat” maqomi qo’yilishi kerak? Avval mustamlakachimiz bo’lgani uchunmi? Rus imperiyasi va Sho’ro davrida yurtlarimizni talashgani, xalqimizni qirgani uchunmi, yerlarmizni xom - ashyo bazasiga aylantirishgani uchunmi? Orolni quritishgani uchunmi? Yoki shunchaki teri pigmentlari oqligi uchunmi?

@MenSenvaUlar2

? «O‘zbekistonlik» hujjatli filmining premyerasi 12 mart kuni 18.00da MY5 kanalida va U-club rasmiy sahifasida bo‘lib o‘tadi.

✅ Film haqida batafsil〰️

? Премьера документального фильма "Узбекистонлик" состоится 12 марта в 18.00 на канале МY5и на официальной странице U-club✅ Подробнее о фильмеInstagram | Meta | Telegram | Website | YouTube