Armenians bring bribes and steals to Azerbaijan.

Still in Soviet times, my father used to garden on the edge of the forest. Will he not add? Watermelon, watermelon, various vegetables, pumpkin, kertof, onion etc. We had a butler named Selman in our house. My father II. During World War II, when he went to a tree without hunger and thirst, our bull took it in his arms and brought it to our house. In front of our large building was a two-room thatched-roof house. There were two tenders, two stoves and all the winter potatoes, kertophu, flour, rice and food in our house. The next room had two ovens and two ovens. The room was always warm. My mother brought a mattress, duvet and pillow, we took off the plane called Selman and my mother ate breakfast, lunch and dinner there. Later, Gulvardi and Shahvardi brothers were added to that room. Three employees were managing our vineyards and orchards and the whole property. Like Selman, my dad saw them in a hole, fainted with hunger, he was upset and brought them to Selman’s house … my poor mother healed them. He hurriedly placed a wide chest, a wide rui and two small pillows for the two brothers and placed them next to Selman …

These three men took care of all the household chores in our house … Two cows, two wetlands, a large field of land, hundreds of chickens and roosters, tens of our fifteen ducks … My father was a school teacher, school was closed in summer and my father Kolkhoj bought potatoes from the state. He was carrying watermelons and watermelons to Baku in a big trolley. There he would deliver it to the state warehouse and return it. Selman, Shahvardi and Gulvardi were assisting him in this work and they were doing all the work in our house … I saw these when I was a child … we helped Selman from time to time. Also, every morning, Selman would go to the forest, wrap a large pile of wood around his waist and bring it home. Then Shahvardi and Gulvardi will go with him …

Dad, we would get official permission from the state on Sundays and go to the forest in groups: we would cut wood with an ax and my father would rent a big truck and we would bring wood to our garden. In general, Selman, Gulvardi and his brother Shahvardi loaded the truck with a wooden ax … Thus, preparations were made for winter. The ground floor of our large two-story building was lined with wood, and in the winter Dad would fill our steel stove and burn it. The rooms were thus nicely heated. My brothers used to sit around the stove with books in their hands. We used to read our school lessons. Tevfik, Mutaalim and I would occasionally lie on our chests around the lamp on the carpet, reading and writing our lessons. Our breasts were turning red on the carpet every now and then … Almost every day during the summer months, my mother would put us in a big bowl in our garden and wash our whole body with soap. During the winter, in the room where Selma slept, we washed right next to the stove. It was definitely under the care of our mother.

We survived an adventurous childhood

I can say that I had a very adventurous and different childhood. To collect wood in the forest, we would spend the night together with his late cousin Selal and Bhagif in a two-hectare garden field by the sea … We would wake up very early in the morning with the unique scent of watermelon. Inside the garden …

Ahmed, I could not see my uncles from Mirza … II. They participated in World War II, they were wounded and moved to mercy. My uncle poet Golam was a doctor and they also had a house. We lived in the same building as my late cousins, and my father helped them financially.

The building we live in was built by a famous doctor, my grandfather Mirza Mutallimi Erdebili. The eight-room building was made of red tools … it had a spacious Evan and a high roof. Everyone in the provinces of Astara and Lankaran knew our building, which was made of red tools for the first time in the district. Every day dozens of people would come to our garden as if they were going to the hospital. My father, my mother, my grandmother Ensibeim Haneem used to say this all the time …

My grandfather, Mirza Mutallimi Erdebili, once studied Nature Medicine in Germany, learned the genetics of all kinds of medicinal plants of the world, made medicines for all kinds of diseases, mixed herbs, day by day, mixed. My father was a magician …

They knew his name in Iran, Baku, Ganja, Tbilisi, and the Caucasus, and he was constantly invited to these provinces and districts with his Fitton. He was a great doctor who healed thousands of people with his healing hands …

When I was a student at the University of Baku Theater, I would occasionally go to their home in Jabra with my classmate Sefa Ismailoglu. We would go to the Ersivan district of Astara with Sefar. While in Jabra, their neighbor Haji Alekpar took care of me and when he heard that I was the grandson of Dr. Mirza Mutalimi Ardebil, the man jumped up and hugged me:

– Are you Mirza’s grandson? He saved my father and mother from death … In 1926, he was a guest in our house with his feton and his servant. He saved our family from spring. I can say that in those years people were injured in the spring in the village … Your father (grandfather) saved many people in our district from death … God have mercy on him. Your grandfather was a rare doctor and a beautiful poet. They were inviting him privately from Iran … He even sang a poem on the night of Baku. They were quickly inviting him to the Hastarkhana, the Caucasus, Ganja and Tbilisi … may Allah have mercy on him. This type of doctor has been growing one after another in a hundred years. The man was talking, he hugged me from time to time and smelled … You can smell Mirza too, I swear …

My father also taught his children

Mama’s children studied, studied, got married in Baku … Over time, our grandfather’s building became empty … We were the only ones left …

My brother, the surgeon doctor, Tevfik, demolished my father’s old building in 1971-72 and replaced it with a new, larger building … A box was found on the ground floor of the building. It contained only stamped documents of the Arabic alphabet … We were all shocked … My brother, Dr. Tevfik, invited a merchant from Iran to our house and started reading the papers. My grandfather had property and land title deeds in Baku, Ganja, Mastaga and other provinces of Azerbaijan … The man said:

– Doctor, these papers are the property deed of your grandfather Mirza Mutallim and title deeds of land in Iran, Azerbaijan and other cities … If you demand these from the state, you will become one of the richest people in the world. You have enough property and land to keep up with your whole generation … we are all shocked. My father worked as a zoology and primary school teacher in our district’s secondary school. He said to my brother:

-Son, take these and let them stay in their place. The Soviet state confiscated all our property, our homes, our lands. Don’t worry about it … or they’ll deport us all to Siberia … shut up here and don’t talk to anyone about it … my brother Tevfik left with the documents. Upstairs in her room …

The Soviet Union collapsed … in towns and villages, people rushed to occupy and share the land. Going to the main gate of the village, he was asking the people:

– Does anyone want land? People have taken land, shared …

One day I asked my brother: What do you think about those deeds? The lands of our district have been sealed and divided among the people … How can we take away the lands from the men? He said and remained silent. If so, give me those two or three acts. I will talk to the people upstairs … He looked at me, he was silent … He did not answer … He never raised this issue again ….

My brother has made a great sacrifice for our family. After my father retired, he took care of all the financial problems of our large family for his hardships and earnings. Our family is indebted to him spiritually … but I still don’t understand why he didn’t answer.

My brother Tevfik was afraid to save our family …

We all loved my late brother … When I was a student in St. Petersburg, he sent me money from his salary every month for three years. There the trained cursant was performing opera with the youngsters, entertaining them and making them laugh. I was going to the training center in Pushkino by tram two days a week … I told my brother Tevfik not to send me money …

I grew up in a very large family … we had five brothers and six sisters … my older brother and older brother died … my brother Mutalim also patronized my brothers in Baku, we cannot forget his suffering. .. Thanks to Kafer Kaferov, my doctoral scientific adviser in Baku (he was the Deputy Secretary General of the Azerbaijani Communist Party), the state has officially given me a one-room space … with my wall Concourse, an Armenian nationalist and a Turkish enemy named Akim.

He opened a private mini-workshop at the beginning of the corridor, setting up, making and selling ax, knife and saw tools … This man was a staunch anti-Turkish, a traitor. I took my brother Elder with me, I let him work in the bakery, so we lived well … My Armenian neighbor was meeting at his house once a week, sometimes ten days a week and they were insulting our Azerbaijani Turks. .. I warned him … his son lived in Moscow. He came and I talked to him, I said, “Stop these meetings …”

When I was a student at the St. Petersburg Conservatory, my humiliated Armenian wife died … That’s when I came to Baku. In the official bagpipe, the state has set up a house for me …

Thus, we got hilsa from my smog neighbor Armenian. Later, I heard that in the Armenian-Kent region of Baku, Armenian-Turkish hostility meetings were held in every neighborhood and speeches were made against the Azerbaijani Turks … I told this again to my close friends and officials, but no one was interested.

In the 1990s, these meeting houses were also raided and forced to relocate. I would like to emphasize that my late friend – LCB has played a great role here. Thus, some traitors, hypocrites, smugglers, hypocritical Armenians – from Baku and its surrounding districts to Moscow, Rostov and Uzbekistan and other regions, have disappeared … but more than thirty thousand Armenians still live in Baku (?). ..

However, the Azerbaijani Turks, who throughout history have lived in the eternal land of Yerevan and its surroundings, were exiled by the Russians from their ancestral and patriarchal country.

Every time the Russians show their hostility towards the Turks …

Leave a Comment