When I came home from hospital Babat said it was time to shut up our cockroach breeding firm. On the one hand, the goods do not sell well, that is cockroaches are not much in demand with tourists. On the other hand, the neighbors laugh at them. And thirdly, the state refuses to give credits on such a doubtful line of business fearing that it is either our collaboration with the West or we have both gone mad.
During the next session of our Family Parliament my wife"s proposal found approval by a majority vote and we shut down our cockroach breeding firm.
As soon as our cockroaches had received independence, in order to subsist somehow, they left for the neighboring house because we ourselves had nothing to eat. To prevent our refrigerator from turning into a hungerrator we had to find a job and work.
I got the job of a swine herd at a swine-breeding firm on the bank of the Karadarya River. The total number of pigs at the firm amounted to two hundred and fifty. I was grazing them on the swamp from morning till night driving them in the pigpen at sunset. Herding 250 pigs was not an easy task, of course. I was assisted by a dog by the name of Muravyed (anteater). The name matched her perfectly for she had a long muzzle, shaggy wool and a bushy tail. My cockroach Satiboldy, too, turned out to be a faithful and inseparable friend. It lived with us in the watch-box, and ran about the walls like crazy at night. In the day time it slept somewhere in a cool pace.
We lived in harmony, in peace and friendship. Occasionally, I would speak to them as if they were humans. They were silent. But they understood me. My children never visited this place. "I feel ashamed - Sharabboy explained - people laugh at us calling us swine-herds". Babat, a real attorney and a defender of mine, justified me. But she wasn"t my frequent visitor either. She would come to see me at the pigsty twice a week. Sometimes I would ask Matash to keep an eye on the pigs, and leave for home.
One day I met our local imam Zainuddin Ibn Gainuddin. Showing my respect, I stretched my hand to him for a handshake, but, instead of greeting me, he covered his face with the sleeves of his chapan , and walked away hastily. As I learnt later here is what he sad publicly:
- Muslims, if you meet with the swine-herd Al Kazim, do not even greet him. Should his fingertips touch your clothes, you must wash them right away and dry them for forty days. Or cut off and burn the spot of your clothes which his fingers have touched! Or else you will be eternally burning in the flame of hell.
Of course, I realized that Zainuddin Ibn Gainuddin envied me. It was all black envy. I did not pay attention to that.
The day before they delivered combined feed to the farm.
At night Matash secretly sold one part of the feed to clients and with the money he got from them he bought 3 bottles of vodka. Then we stabbed a young pig, fried it for the snack and arranged a feast.
We sat by the fire drinking, eating and chatting. There were stars twinkling in the sky and the moon shined illuminating the Kirguizkhadjin fields. Such a romance!
Matash had drained his piala and taking a snack started speaking:
-Yes, life is a great thing! But it"s too short! The most terrible thing is that sooner or later one dies. You die and that"s the end, you will never come back. Never, do you hear? Say, you believe in God. Tell me please, do the invalids feel their lost leg? No, of course, not! Why do you think I am sure of that? It"s because I have asked many invalids that question. They say they don"t feel their lost leg, they just don"t sense it. That"s what makes it so frightening, Al Kizim! Hence my conclusion that once invalids do not feel their lost leg they will not feel the loss of the other parts of the body. It means that when a human being dies he turns into nothing. Therefore I do not believe in life after death.
On hearing this I got frightened and said:
- Matash, ask God to pardon you now! God will severely punish you for saying such things!
My words had no effect on him and he continued:
- Common you, theologian! To tell you the truth, you have no right to talk about God. Because you a swine-herd. You eat pork and drink vodka, and you dare make speeches about God. All right. Now tell me honestly, what appeared first, the hen or the egg?
I puzzled. Matash smiled:
- That"s it! Think, Plato, you won"t find the answer anyway.
-All right I - said. I will give you the answer. Just tell me honestly, who was the first to be born, you or your father?
-Of course, it was my father - Matash answered.
- Then the answer is obvious. It was neither the hen nor the egg, it was the rooster that came first.
Flipping his eye-lids Matash stretched his neck and frowned:
-What are you driving at? What do you men by that?
- I mean to say that all the living and nonliving in this world exist in pairs: good- bad, long - short, dark - light, god - evil, man - woman and so on. Thus we can draw the conclusion that the world we are living in has its antipode. And that is the world where all the deceased go. To put it more plainly, the picture appears to be as follows: you know well that there is such a word as "Naught" And once there is the word "Naught" it means there is such a thing as "Naught". In fact, "Naught" means "Hollow". Once there is such a notion as "Hollow" then, in a certain sense, it does exist. Let us assume that we are asleep at home. Our home is in Matarak. The latter is in Uzbekistan. Uzbekistan is in the World. The World is in Space. If there is no Hollow, then where is Space? After all, by logic, the space we are living in should, like apples in the fridge, have its place somewhere...
At this point Matash interrupted me:
- All right then, tell me, where is the Hollow containing our world, like apples in the fridge? After all, Hollow, if it does really exist, should be somewhere, like apples in the fridge, right? You confirmed by saying that everything existing in this world has its match, that is something nonexistent. You think I am not a believer, don"t you? No, my friend, I believe in nonexistence. Therefore, I am a believer, just like you. My belief is unbelief. It means, I am not a "kafir". One that has no belief is called "kafir". I say it again: my belief is unbelief! Once there is the word "Naught" it means it exists in the form of Hollow. All that human beings have seen and experienced - is illusion, a mirage, like a dream against the background of the Hollow.
- Well, then let me give you a primitive example. Here is a glass vessel which we call a bottle. All things in this World have names, and they are existent. Once the notion of "Naught" has a name it is existent, like a bottle or an apple. In other words, if you believe in the notion of nonexistence named "Naught", then it turns out that you believe in something that exists. Considering this, you believe in the nonexistence, which exists under the name of "The other w4orld" where the deceased depart.
After I said this Matash seized me by the color, and we started fighting. We fought for a long time until Matash had his head hurt badly.
When I had calmed down Marash was lying, with his head crushed, like a water-melon which someone has dropped after seeing the woman he loved in his remote youth. I gave him first aid having bandaged his wounded head with a wrap.
Presently, the moon was shining over the canes far away where the croaking of frogs resounded in the air. It seemed that the moon was fading. Looking at the moon we realized how meaningless all the bloodsheds and wars in the world were. We thought that our dispute was one of the reasons. As it appeared, we needed sports but not a war of words. Disputes divide whereas sport unites all people of the world irrespective of their belief, nationality and race.
chapan - traditional men"s striped and colored overcoat, a full-length garment with elbow-length or long sleeves, worn by men in Central Asia