Hands cuffed, elbows gripped, Abdulla was taken down a dark staircase into the building’s basement. In one of the niches, by the dim light of the caged paraffin lamp, a swarthy Russian stuck his hands under Abdulla’s gown and poked in all his pockets, pulling out everything to the last penny, and then, after feeling his trousers, removed his thick leather belt. ‘Sign this!’ he barked, holding out a piece of paper. Abdulla gestured to his handcuffed wrists. ‘Well, scribbler,’ the guard laughed, ‘you’ve had your itchy little
hands put out of action!’ He kicked Abdulla in the knee so hard that the latter curled up in agony. ‘Hold the pen with your teeth,’ the Russian demanded.

Қўлида кишани билан Абдуллани қоронғу бинонинг қоронғу зиналари бўйлаб қоронғу ертўласига судрашди. Ертўланинг бир хонасида темир катакка илинган жинчироқ остида пешанаси кетга кетган бир барзангидек ўрис Абдулланинг чопони остига қўлини тиқиб, чўнтакларини кавлаб, сариқ чақагача бор пулини йиғиб олди-да, сўнг иштонига ёпишиб, ултон қамарини ечди. “Мана бунга имзо чек!” – деб бир парча қоғозни узатар экан, Абдулла қўлидаги кишанга имо қилган эди: “Ҳа, ёзувчишка, қичиган қўлларинг қисқарибди-да!” - деб тиззасига оғир ўтиги билан тепган эди, қимтилаб Абдулла чидаб бўлмас оғриқдан икки эгилди. “Тишла энди ручкани!” - деб ўшқирди бу бандибон жаллод.

Why hadn’t Abdulla begun his story with a description of the bunch of grapes? He might have got away with saying that this was just a little sketch of a fictitious gardener. But now his pieces would certainly damn him. Thoughts have strange paths, indeed.

Нега ахир узум ғужумидан бошлагани йўқ, боғбонлар ҳаётидан бир асарча деб қўя қолармиди. Ҳали бунисини ҳам унинг бўйнига қўйишса керак. Хаёл йўллари ажиб.