18 Stories on the Train

3

Jabrail-muallim and Bahlul-kishi are completely different people with completely opposing views. They are neighbors. Jabrail-muallim holds a high position, and Bahlul-kishi is a person who does not have a permanent job. And they are united by a single hobby: playing domino in their yard. Jabril-muallim sees this game as a filling for his leisure time, but for Bahlul-kishi it is a matter of life and death. He goes all out to make their team win and to cheer up Jabrail-muallim. Perhaps, he will get a favor as a result of this, and he will be able to get at least a simple job from his neighbor.

One day Jabrail-muallim suddenly suggested Bahlul-kishi going on vacation with their families. The latter was overcome with joy, thinking: this is a real chance to resolve the employment issue. But, as it turned out, it was not to happen.

A Clumsy Assistance

It was the last Friday of December. The residents of the five-story building were sitting in a self-built room arranged in the courtyard for various events and domino playing. People were waiting for their turn. It was very noisy. The losing pair left the game, giving way to another one. When someone made a wrong move, a clamor was heard. As a result of the squabble, the pieces of domino flew to the floor with such force that the noise from it could be heard in the nearest apartments. Everyone was equal here. No one was superior to any other. It could be a teacher, a scientist, even a simple worker – everyone was called “a neighbor.” They were united by the game of dominoes. In principle, they were not bad neighbors. They shared both their troubles and their joys, they helped each other.

It was hot in the room, even though it was December. A wooden stove was burning at one end, and a samovar was boiling at the other. Those who dropped out of the game, those who lost, were obliged to put hot tea in front of the players instead of the cooled ones.

When the turn came to Jabrail-muallim, who was the head of a company, the audience died down and the jokes stopped. After all, this person enjoyed high authority. Jabrail-muallim took his place and turned to his partner:

“Bahlul, my neighbor, please be careful, we must take revenge for the latest defeat.”

“Yessir,” said Bahlul-kishi, who was recently hired as a watchman in the yard market. The Jabrail-Bahlul pair was considered the strongest in the quarter. Both were graduates of the University of Economics and were good at calculating moves, as well as guessing the result of the game. The first round passed at quite a pace. They won and took revenge for their previous defeat, but were unlucky in the next round. They hardly sat down when they had to get up again.

The passions were burning. No one cared about tea anymore. Upset, Jabrail left the room. “Damn it, what an awful thing to happen,” Bahlul thought to himself and went out, following his neighbor. He had to solve his problem somehow. Having caught up with his neighbor, he began to apologize:

“Excuse me, for god's sake, I tried my best. We were unlucky somehow…”

“Take it easy, you lose once, you win later,” the neighbor tried to calm him down. These words made Bahlul-kishi cheer up, so he decided to move on:

“Jabrail-muallim, you promised to give me a suitable job if the opportunity arises.”

“I remember, neighbor,” Jabrail-muallim replied. “There’s no vacancy yet. Have some patience. I am a responsible person. If I promised something, I’ll do it.”

“I know, brother. Heaven bless you,” said Bahlul-kishi, expressing his gratitude. It was cold outside. Bahlul-kishi decided not to hold back his neighbor, said goodbye and thought to leave. Seeing this, Jabrail-muallim, apparently remembering about something, turned to his neighbor:

“Neighbor, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Why are you asking, dear? I can ask my son to watch over the market for me. I'm at your service.”

“There’s no service. I haven’t travelled for a long time, I want to go on vacation to Kechresh, Quba, with my wife tomorrow. If you want, you can join us. Take your wife too. It will be more fun having a company.”

Bahlul-kishi was very happy with the proposal of his neighbor. To be honest, he did not expect it and considered it an honor to set out on the road with such a respected person, so he was quick to agree:

“With great pleasure. But I want to ask you for something. Just don't be offended, please.”

“I am listening.”

“I’ll pay my expenses.”

“Come on, what kind of expense are you talking about?” said Jabrail- muallim. Bahlul-kishi answered quickly:

“No. Please, don’t say so. I have to spend money as well, otherwise I will feel myself uncomfortable.”

At 9 am, both neighbors stood at their respective entrance doors with their bags and spouses. Despite the insistence of Jabrail-muallim, Bahlul-kishi did not agree to get into his new Jeep. “I cannot be so impudent,” he thought to himself and turned to Jabrail-muallim:

“Don’t you worry, neighbor. We don’t need to go far after all. Let everyone use their own car. It will be more spacious this way. And then, my Zhiguli needs a test drive as well. I have never traveled out of town on it.”

Jabrail-muallim was not a fan of high-speed driving. He always said, “The quieter you drive, the further you get.” This characteristic was beneficial for Bahlul-kishi, since his car was old, but at the same time reliable, having never let his owner down on the way. Bahlul asked God to make sure that nothing happened to his car on the road. This might annoy Jabrail-muallim.

They reached Kechresh. Then they went to the Ulduz hotel, located on a mountain covered with forest.

The hotel staff went out to meet them. Jabrail-muallim greeted them by shaking hands:

“How are you, daredevils?”

“Thanks, dear,” the guy who stood in front of everyone said. “Everything’s ok, your rooms are ready.”

Bahlul-kishi realized that Jabrail-muallim had called and booked rooms before leaving.

In the hotel, the two good neighbors were also located next door. But the difference was that in the city they lived opposite each other, but here they lived side by side. Each family had their own room. About an hour later, Jabrail-muallim went out into the corridor and quietly knocked on the door of Bahlul-kishi. The latter, as if standing just behind the door, waiting, immediately looked out.

“What can I do for you, dear?” he asked.

“It’s time for lunch, neighbor, let’s go eat. The shashlik is great here,” Jabrail- muallim said.

“I swear by Allah, brother, I am not hungry,” Bahlul-kishi answered immediately. “In the morning we left the house in a hurry and did not have time to have breakfast, so when we arrived, we began to eat immediately. Feel free to go and dine. Bon appetite.”

Jabrail-muallim began to object:

“What are you saying? Listen, we don’t eat shashlik every day, do we? Get ready, let's go. This one’s on me.”

“Don’t insist, neighbor. We are not hungry. Otherwise, we would surely accompany you.”

* * *

Although it didn't snow, it was still cold. Jabrail-muallim and his wife were sitting in the spacious, bright salon of the restaurant near the hotel and having lunch. The couple chirped about something sweetly, while contemplating the landscape.

Jabrail-muallim was a busy man, and as such, he rarely could find the time to leave the city and somehow relax. This means that he was greatly enjoying his trip. He took a break from the bustle of the city and felt relieved. He decided to go with Bahlul-kishi thinking that he would have someone to talk to when bored. But he could not imagine that his neighbor would show his stubborn character. Such a person is not good for a company. At the moment, his role was assumed by Laman – the wife of Jabrail-muallim.

Only the devil knows what Bahlul-kishi and his wife were doing back there in the room. They never opened their door until evening, and never left the room. When it was time for dinner, Jabrail-muallim knocked on his neighbors’ door again. Less than a couple of seconds later, Bahlul-kishi already opened the door:

“Please, brother, come in. Welcome.”

“Thanks. That’s not what I came for. You two did not leave the room today. I thought I’d ask what was happening.”

“Nothing special, we’re just chatting here, me and my wife,” Bahlul- kishi replied.

“Look, go out and enjoy nature, admire the landscape. You don’t have this clean air in Baku. You’ll have plenty of time to chat at home,” Jabrail-muallim advised.

“To be honest, we were afraid to catch a cold, that’s why we stayed here. And you know how expensive the drugs are.”

Shaking his head, Jabrail-muallim changed the subject:

“Alright, get ready, let’s have dinner. You did not share lunch with us.”

Bahlul-kishi took his neighbor by the hand and answered:

“My dear, maybe you can be our guest? My wife brought excellent cabbage rolls from home, she prepared it herself.”

Jabrail-muallim realized that the neighbors did not want to be a burden to them, so they were not a good company, and decided to be clear:

“Bahlul, we want to taste the turkey shashlik. We invite you too. If you change your mind, feel free to come.”

* * *

The night came. Like all the other vacationers, our neighbors slept soundly in their rooms. Waking up in the morning, they could not believe their eyes. It snowed at night and everything was covered in white. Bahlul-kishi was very upset: “What am I going to do? How do I get out of here in my wreck of a car? How can I get to Baku?”

Jabrail-muallim, on the contrary, was happy as a child:

“You see, how lucky we were, wife? Did you expect that we would see such snow?”

“I did not expect at all,” Lyaman replied, delighted, and then joked: “If I had known, I would have brought a thermos with me to collect and take some snow to the children.”

This time there was a knock on Jabrail-muallim’s door.

“Brother, there is snow everywhere, how can we get out in this weather?” Bahlul- kishi asked, agitated.

Jabrail-muallim began to calm him down:

“Don’t worry, neighbor. We’ll come up with something.”

It was about 12 in the afternoon. The snow would not stop. Bahlul- kishi was deeply worried. His wife Sakhne Khanum, seeing her husband's condition, began to calm him down:

“Look, why all this agony? Who forces you to race with your car? We’ll go slower and we will get there somehow.”

“What are you saying, wife? We saved money for 20 years to buy this used car. And now you say that I have to ruin it over bumps? You think it is easy to go downhill on bald tires? What it slips and crashes against the trees? Do we have extra money to pay for the repairs?”

“What do you propose, then?” the wife asked.

“We’ll walk down the hill. Then we’ll catch a ride with someone and continue. When the snow melts, I will come back for the car.”

Jabrail-muallim and his wife were also going to leave. Lyaman Aliyeva said:

“Jabi, the roads are covered in ice, maybe we should leave the car here and go down on foot. We'll catch some car and go home.”

“What are you talking about, wife?” Jabrail-muallim objected. “You want us to slip and hurt ourselves? To the hell with the car, let it break down. At least we will be alive and well.”

Secretly from Jabrail-muallim, Bahlul-kishi went and paid for his room, which greatly upset his neighbor. But he nevertheless accepted his offer to go in his Jeep, although he tried to refuse at first.

… The neighbors arrived safely at home.

Bahlul-kishi was going crazy. He just kept thinking about his old “Zhiguli” car. As for Jabrail-muallim, although he was in a good mood, seeing the concern of his neighbor, he also felt guilty somehow. He was not even particularly happy that he had travelled to Kechresh.

* * *

Bahlul-kishi could not keep still. It was two weeks already that the car had been waiting for him on the mountain. Every day he called the hotel and asked about the local situation, but the snow would not melt. He had to wait, there was no other solution.

Another week passed. The snow did not melt – on the contrary, it snowed harder now.

When they were playing dominoes again, Jabrail-muallim, seeing Bahlul-kishi's frustration, offered unexpectedly:

“Neighbor, our opponents beat us last time. If you play well and we win, I promise to bring your car from Kechresh using a tow truck.”

Bahlul-kishi almost jumped of joy. It was as if he was not facing a domino game, but a struggle for survival.

4

It seems that this rain will never stop. In fact, the story of Bahlul- kishi, although it seems funny, is in fact sad. It reminds me of Nijat Bey. His story is very different from that of the previous hero. What happened to him brings up a smile, but not sympathy. It is a story with a good ending. Nijat Bey is in no hurry to get married, he is passionate about his work. He doesn't even want to think about the fact that it is time to create a family. His mother, Nargiz-khanum, complains to her son's friends all the time, saying that they have all got married and that they could try to convince her son to follow their example.

Aunt Nargiz has more than enough candidates for the position of her daughter-in- law. But the problem is, the son says that he will marry only the one he will love. Moreover, he is in no hurry, as I have already noted.

One fine day, friends on the street drive him into such a situation that he is forced to get to know two girls. And the girls are far from being of the timid kind. They test him so much that the poor fellow runs home and tells his mother: “Marry me with whoever you want, I agree.”

The Choice

The house where Nijat’s family lived was located near the Central Department Store. Nijat was busy in the office five days a week, and the other two days he spent at home. His mother Nargiz-khanum kept swearing: “How long are you going to stay at home, go out into the city, enjoy life.” But everything was useless. Sometimes friends managed to pull him out of the house by force and take him on a walk through the boulevard or to the cinema. But it happened extremely rarely. When at home, he would sit by the window, watching passers-by: he observed the way the people were dressed, the shapes of their faces and reflected on human society.

Nargiz khanum's cherished dream was to marry his son, who was already over thirty, as soon as possible, and devote the rest of her life to raising grandchildren. Actually, her husband Nadir-muallim dreamed of the same thing. But due to the respectful father / son relationship, he could not tell him about it directly, always passing a hint through his spouse, Nargiz-khanum. However, last time they talked, the head of the family put the question bluntly. His order was clear and concise. “Tell him that his father says that it is enough already, he has to have some mercy. I am giving him two months. If during this time he does not decide himself, he has been warned. I myself will go and marry him with the daughter of some relative.” Nargiz-khanum passed her father's words to her son, word for word.

The poor woman asked her son's friends so many times to try and influence him. And at each meeting, they tried to start a conversation about marriage in order to ignite a spark of interest from their friend. All these young people were married and tried using their own example to convince their friend how important and necessary it is to have a family, how good it is to be a married person.

The office where Nijat worked belonged to a computer programming company. Sometimes he did not have time to complete a job and then he took it home. He loved his profession and therefore did not get tired at work. And when he achieved good results, his joy had no limits. All of his attention was given to specialized literature and scientific research. He did not even want to think about the need to arrange his personal life. Over the years, he became more indecisive. He didn't know how to approach young girls, how to start a conversation with them. He could not imagine how he would behave if they refused. At the same time, he was actually aware of the need to start a family.

It was Saturday afternoon. A bit earlier than at noon, Oktay and Huseyn, the guys from neighboring families, knocked on their door and began to call him. Nargiz- khanum rejoiced at seeing her son's friends on the doorstep:

“It is so nice to see you, please, come in.”

“Thanks, auntie Nargiz. Is our nerd at home?” Huseyn asked. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” Nijat’s voice sounded.

While he was preparing himself, Nargiz-khanum, as usual, made it clear to the guests that they should again somehow bring him to the question of marriage.

In the presence of his mother, Nijat just could not refUse the offer of his friends to “go get a breath of fresh air” and agreed reluctantly. They all went out into the street and stood under a wide pine tree that grew at the edge of the sidewalk.

Huseyn lit a cigarette and started chatting about stuff. Oktay, though, was more to the point:

“Why don’t you marry, Nijat? It’s time, brother. Time to act. Arrange a wedding, we would enjoy hanging out with you. You don’t have pity of yourself – ok, but have mercy of your parents. You promised you would soon decide yourself, didn’t you. So?”

Nijat kept silent. This time, it was Huseyn who interfered:

“Say something. Aren’t there enough girls in the city? I swear that if you don’t marry, I’ll let my grandma to your place and I want to see how you will manage to expulse her.”

Husein's humor brought a smile to his friend’s face. But he still didn’t say anything about the case:

“Nijat, maybe you have problems that prevent you from marrying? Don't hide from us. We won't tell anyone,” Oktay said. He was so ambiguous that his friend was forced to answer:

“What are you talking about? Don’t even think about it. You know, Oktay, I do understand myself that one cannot wait too long with that. I am also aware that my father and my mother are extremely worried. They are desperate. But you have to understand me as well. At noon I am at work, at night I am home. Where should I find a girl? Let’s say I managed to find one. But then, I will have to get to know her well. I can’t get married blindfolded, can I?”

“Isn’t there a girl you would know well among your colleagues or relatives?” Huseyn asked.

“At work, no. Everyone’s married. As for relatives, I don’t know what to say. I think it is better to marry someone who is not your relative.”

“How many times did we tell you? You didn’t want to listen. Girls are girls. They are quick to get married. Now, it is not easy to find a girl who would match your age,” Oktay remarked.

At this moment, Huseyn noticed that two young ladies were walking towards them, and said, pointing at them:

“Look, Nijat, what pretties: nice and without makeup. Maybe they’re not even married. Maybe it is God sending them to you? What do you say? Which o