Дело в том, что в 17 лет она закончила школу. К тому моменту они уже 2 года встречались с Микой. После получения аттестата зрелости она получила стипендию в Турции. Мика не хотел ее отпускать одну. Страстная любовь. Он предложил ей замуж. Она согласилась. Они вместе уехали. Все было прекрасно. Пока одним летом они не вернулись на родину. На каникулы. Небольшой скандал. Тяжелый развод. Семья бывшего мужа не приняла ее в свою семью.
В этот раз события повторялись. Снова любовь. Снова поездка. Нужно выбирать. В первый раз она не могла отказаться от учебы за границей. Вышла замуж. В этот раз, она также выбрала себя, а не любовь. Она сделала свой выбор: отказала принять предложение выйти замуж. Решила уехать одна. Надеялась, что разлука не помешает им быть вместе. Но увы, после двух месяцев разлуки Фунт и Зезо все-таки расстались. В сети.
Спустя два года Зезо вернулась. Но Фунт уже был женат. На другой. А Зезо смогла получить бесценный опыт работы. Смогла накопить для себя сбережения. Она долгое время жалела о случившемся. Но спустя годы поняла. Все происходит так, как должно быть. Не раз эти накопления выручали ее и ее семью. Был период, когда их семья осталась без кормильца. Было время, когда она не могла трудоустроиться. Дважды. Был промежуток времени, когда бабушка сильно заболела. Все эти финансовые трудности в семье были решены благодаря тому, что она заработала за два года в Европе.
Прошли годы. Ей уже 35. Она вновь встретила любовь. И опять перед выбором. Уехать или остаться.
Если уж все предначертано заранее… Если верить в судьбу. То нужно верить и в свои решения. Человек одарен одним замечательным правом. Мы имеем право принимать решения. Наш выбор определяет нашу судьбу. В этот раз она поступила иначе. Она никуда не убегает. Она научилась бороться со страхом. Она точно знает. Её счастье здесь. В родном городе. Рядом с ним.
In 1991 Tajikistan gained its independence. USSR was in the past, but not for the people. During the civil war, our family was threatened, and the family was forced to leave the capital. We left to the north.
At the age of 6, I found myself in a city that was strange to me, among people who were not like me. People here were religious, although they loved to gossip. People here liked to invite each other to one’s house, but without address details. Indeed, they did not want you to visit them. They had many unwritten customs and traditions and lots of taboos for girls. For example, girls should not be photographed with fluffy long hair.
Once I was sitting in the yard and heard a conversation between a neighbor and her daughter.
“How could you take a picture with your hair down?” – asked a woman.
“I wanted it like that”, the girl replied to her.
To which her mother reacted nervously and said: “This is how prostitutes take pictures!”
For me it was weird. Why are girls allowed to wear beautiful long hair, but not allowed to take a picture?
Girls are not allowed to walk hand in hand with boys, otherwise everyone will think that he is her lover. It's amazing why people can't show their relationship to the society? Love is a wonderful feeling. Why hide it?
A lot of different "no" for girls in our society. I did not understand these prohibitions when I was little. Even more I did not understand the submissiveness and obedience of girls. For them, all prohibitions were the norm, but for me they were strange.
I went to first grade. It was an ordinary secondary school with Tajik as the language of instruction. There were 20 students in a class. Half of which were girls. I didn't want to be friends with girls. And yes, they were not particularly drawn to me. “She is not from our city. She is an outsider”, classmates said. It was painful and uncomfortable. I wanted to rebel. But at that moment I could not even imagine that it was possible to change something. So, I took everything for granted. I followed the customs and traditions; I did not want to upset my mother. My family had to obey the rules of the north, as it was necessary to build relationships with people and establish a new life in a new place. But the feeling of injustice haunted me.
Fourth grade. I was already 10 years old. My photo was hanged on the honor roll among the rest of the high school students, but I did not have any friend among girls. A way out was needed since it was no longer possible to be alone in the class. And I decided to talk to the boys. They didn't care where I was from. They did not have bans.
We used to run around the school yard during breaks, played gun shooting games, climbed trees, and built shelters there to hide.
It seemed like boys have more rights. They were free in their movements and in the choice of communication. They were allowed to walk until late, visit friends and stay there overnight.
