chingiz aitmatov jamila pdf

I wanted to walk up to him, put my arm around him and say something comforting. What's Yours? Jamila rode in the trap when we drove through the canyon, but she would walk alongside it in the steppe. After all, we had carried the sacks from the very fields where women, old men and children had planted the wheat and reaped it, and now, at the height of the harvesting season, the combine operator was struggling with the old machine that had long since outlived its usefulness, where the women's backs were always bent over their scorching sickles, where children's hands carefully collected each dropped ear of corn. What could have happened to her?

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