In the Shade of Sidrat. Maryam Nashkhoeva
all left together with some man to another city. Sonya wanted to take us with her, she cried. I told her I would stay here and wait for you, – Magomed cried again.
– Okay, enough already, you’re a man after all! – Adam said, ruffling Magomed’s hair.
– Here’s a piece of paper with an address. Sonya asked me to give it to mom, – Magomed said.
– Okay, who are you living with here? – Adam asked.
– With Aunt Medina, she was with us in the car when we came here, – he replied.
– Let’s wait for Aunt Medina and go home, – Adam smiled.
– Back to our home? They’re shooting there, I don’t want to go there, – Magomed said, lowering his head.
– No, not there, to another house, here in Ingushetia, to Uncle Islam’s, we’ll stay with him until everything is sorted out, – Adam replied.
After a while, Medina came, Adam thanked her for taking care of the kids like her own, said goodbye, took Makka in his arms, and they left the refugee camp. Magomed did not leave Adam’s side, Amina, Kazbek’s wife, fell in love with little Makka and called her “my sweet kiddie”.
That evening, Adam ate hot food for the first time, drank hot tea, the aroma of fresh bread intoxicated his head. All these months, he had been dreaming of the simplest things: drinking clean water, eating delicious food to his fill in warmth and silence, taking a hot bath, and lying down to sleep on clean sheets in a soft bed, not thinking about airplanes, explosions, and death.
Isn’t this happiness? Yes, happiness lies in the simplest and most familiar things for us. We don’t appreciate their value until we lose everything. In fact, the simplest things bring the greatest happiness.
When he finally fell asleep, he had a dream. In the shade of the beautiful tree Sidrat al-Muntaha, there were his parents, with Akhmed and Markha beside them, all dressed in beautiful green silk garments and turbans, sitting among beautiful lotus flowers. Fragrant musk emanated from them, and their faces were shining with beautiful white light. There was no sun, no cold, no fear, and no sadness. Adam felt complete peace and tranquility.
Markha held a crystal pitcher in her hands, shimmering with various colors. Then she approached the nearby spring, filled the pitcher with water, and handed it to Adam’s parents. After drinking water from the heavenly source, Adam’s father said to him, “Everything has its time, son! Your golden leaf has not yet fallen from the tree. Take care of your children, we will always be with you, in your heart”.
After the war ended, Adam returned to his homeland, his beloved and native Grozny. He couldn’t even imagine his life outside the city, Grozny was sealed in his heart for life. Almost twenty years had passed, the city had become even more beautiful and magnificent, there was no single trace of war left.
Makka and Magomed grew up, went to university, Adam started a large family, every day thanking the Almighty for the Republic’s peace and prosperity. His heart preserves everything that happened and cherishes everything he has. Happiness is so fragile!
Every person has an inner magical power that can make them survive pain, overcome fear, and continue to fight even with themselves.
Every person has an internal magical power that can make them survive pain, overcome fear, and continue to fight even with themselves.
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The Scent of Happiness
Mommy, don’t cry. I have two weeks left to live – two whole weeks, fourteen days, three hundred and thirty-six hours, twenty thousand one hundred and sixty minutes. That’s so much time – time for sunshine, for warm and rainy days, for long, sleepless nights. It feels like an eternity for someone who knows the day their life will end.
You will read this letter when I am no longer by your side. But I will always remain in your heart, burning with the warm flame of your love. Always.
We’ve only just begun, and yet, you’re already crying. Is that really necessary? Smile, like we used to do on warm evenings, sitting together on the swings in our cozy yard. Take a cup of tea – yes, the one with the hearts on it. Pour our fancied blend with mint and lemon balm, take one sip, just like we always did. Then sit in your favourite rocking chair by the fireplace in the living room. You see, you’re already smiling. That means everything will be okay. A smile, after all, is a little glimmer of hope from a heart that’s desperate, but still strong.
I haven’t told you this yet, but the doctor said there’s no going back. My ship is about to set sail on its last voyage.
Mommy, don’t think I’m afraid. I’m not. I’m brave, after all. I’m not afraid of death itself. I’m afraid of leaving you, of breaking your heart. Parents aren’t meant to bury their children – it goes against the laws of nature.
But you know, Mommy, it’s almost easier for me now, after hearing the doctor’s words. You may wonder why. Well, because after these gruelling six months, I’m so exhausted – especially my soul. My body’s grown used to the constant presence of needles and tubes. At thirty, I feel like I’m eighty. Everything inside me feels rusted, worn out. Chemotherapy hasn’t just ravaged my body; it’s burned away my emotions too. It’s as if I’ve already lived my entire life before this moment. Everything feels distant, like an old movie reel – memories, smells, faces, emotions – all in the past. I’ve had my fill of it all.
The sun has become dim and cold, the days are short, the nights endless, and people indifferent. I’m left alone with my illness now – my closest companion, since my “real” friends turned away when I needed them most. My boyfriend left me when he found out about my diagnosis. I can’t offer him beauty anymore, or comfort by my side, or money. I’m bald now, no longer the person who caught his eye. I’m ashamed to go out with him, ashamed of how I look. I scare him, and I scare everyone around him. He has nothing left to brag about.
He once loved me – or at least I thought he did – but it was all an illusion, a false faсade hiding emptiness inside. I was just a big wallet to him, a useful thing, and he was a consumer. My shelf life has expired, and now I’m disposable. I’ve always attracted men like him – Alphonse – but I never found real happiness.
Maybe I was too strong, and that’s why I attracted people weaker than myself. But I have no regrets. In my brief, bright life, I’ve experienced it all: the good, thanks to you, and the bad, thanks to me. You always said there are no perfect people, and I am far from perfect. But you were always my ideal – my magical, guiding star. And stars never fade, so neither will we. Our souls will shine like eternal celestial stars.
I just want to confess to you my endless love! To capture it in these lines!
Please don’t cry, Mommy. I asked you not to. Read this to the end, smile once more, and kiss me on the cheek in your mind – just like you did when I was a child. Hug me tightly with your tender hands – oh, how they smell, Mommy! That scent is heavenly, the most beautiful in the world! They smell like my favourite lily of the valley.
Mommy, I want to share with you some little secrets of happiness. I’m sure that deep down, everyone knows them, but sometimes something holds us back from living by them. It’s hard to stop for just a moment, open your heart wide, and let yourself be happy. But don’t worry, it’s nothing serious – just a few words from a bald girl who loves life madly, and at the same time, hates it.
I decided to write you this letter because I wanted to leave something truly real behind, something that comes from the depths of my heart. Perhaps someday, these words will help someone