Читать книгу: «Adam’s Dictionary. Short novels»

© Vahid Mammadli, 2023

ISBN 978-5-0060-8193-2

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

When I am alone, I speak to myself in a foreign language, the origin of which I still cannot find. For example, yesterday, when I called my friend who is a composer, let’s go for a walk in the park near our house, my friend said: “You made a good call, I was going to pick you up.” I need a thousand manat urgently. I say debt. When you come, bring me so that I can walk willingly, today we will cover a distance of ten thousand steps,” he laughed. He himself said it in such a way that if you don’t bring a thousand manats, I won’t even come for a walk. As soon as I promised him a loan and hung up the phone, I shouted: “Takama sasa!” – these words, the meaning of which I did not understand, seemed to be said by someone else who spoke this language from inside me, the “translation” according to that situation was probably as follows: “My stupid head, you are the kutumats that no singer wants to sing (probably the translation is “banal song” means) why are you calling this shumutta (egoist) who is the author, after all, he has a headache for a thousand manats?” Hearing my screams, my wife came from the kitchen and asked, “Why are you speaking in your own language again?” I answered him again in my own language: Amada takama sasa tuta. Kkhı mataka. Yamasa kasa mitita, Yamasa kosa mota, Yamasa kutumat.

You know, my wife already knows the “meaning” of some words, since she has heard this language that I speak to myself for a long time. Because to me “why do you call stupid people?” said and left.

How and where this non-existent language, which I speak freely without knowing its meaning, is clear to me, is just a mystery to me, an unsolved puzzle.For example, my close friends know that when I see something I really like, I don’t say “it’s great”, I say “it’s awesome”. Apparently, the language I speak also uses foreign words like “super”, and “auza” probably means very, that is, very super. Once my daughter, a philologist, asked, “Dad, what nation’s language do you speak?” I replied that I don’t know which people’s language it is, but I feel that it is something ancient. For now, my life is like this, talking in my own language.

Lately, I have been speaking in this language with my friends whom I trust a lot. To be honest, it doesn’t depend on me anymore… I have a friend who travels around the world and comes to Baku once or twice a year. As soon as he arrives, he calls to let us eat khangal in the inner city. Once he called from the Central Clinical Hospital saying, brother, good health, I was bitten by an exotic cockroach in Tanzania, I don’t have a fever, you can’t know the affairs of the world, maybe you should come. I was saddened by my life-loving friend’s pessimism and went to the hospital. My friend was continuously transplanted, the doctors did their best. And I sat in the chair in the ward where he was sleeping from morning to evening, often saying that he will probably recover tomorrow and we will go with him and eat khangal in the Inner City. I knew that nothing would heal him so quickly, except the love of a hookah. Every time the nurse came in and out of the ward, she asked my friend and me so many questions in a shrill voice that in the end, after she left, I couldn’t stand it and said again in my own language: “Strenka”. Although my friend did not know the meaning of the word, he understood that it was referring to the talkative, annoying nurse. I didn’t even know the meaning of what I said about the nurse.

Thankfully, my friend recovered quickly and we fulfilled our dream of eating khangal in the Inner City with him. In front of the cafe, a word came out again in that unknown language: “Ninakupenda” (I think it meant “these pastries will kill us”). After that incident, my friend left saying that this time he will travel to South America. I said “kata susapa” behind my friend (probably meant “let your way be clear”).