Тhe secrets of grandfather's mill

By Bajruzin Hajro Planjac

"His book is unique because of the stories that turn us back to the past and explain to children some other world that they do not remember and that is specific because of many things. Less things and more happiness. All other books today talk about technology, future or imaginable things and this has a powerful idea : To tell children that happ

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ukiyoto Publishing
• Release date: Dec 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9789360495435

Book preview

Тhe Secrets of Grandfather’s Mill

Bajruzin Hajro Planjac

Ukiyoto Publishing

All global publishing rights are held by

Ukiyoto Publishing

Published in 2022

Content Copyright © Bajruzin Hajro Planjac

ISBN

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

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Contents

Childhood On Two Coasts

Mysterious Mill

Blood Sled

Apartment Solution

Sutkin’s View

Black Flock Attack

Moving Into Uncertainity

Magic Skyscraper

Blocked Elevator

A Mysterious City

Green Phone

Goingout With Diana

Jasmine Orange

Visit Of Grandfathers And Grandfathers

Job Award

Escape From Hell

Skills On Voice

Grandfather’s Funeral

Fear Of Disease

Good Roomer

Exit From The Hospital

Youth Action

Return to Homeland

The Story Of Grandfather Hemed

Accident News

About the Author

Childhood On Two Coasts

I

was born on the left bank of the bistro-eyed Usora, which for centuries, like a benevolent snake, meandered through the Pousor valley and divided it

into two almost equal parts. This is where the ball  of my childhood unwound carelessly until the age of twelve, when I moved with my family to Zenica. My parents gave me the name Benjamin at birth, but few people called me by it. For the teachers, I was Benja- min, and for everyone else, Benjo. I grew up with my brother Sad and sister Dina, whom I loved im- mensely. I also loved the friends with whom I spent a good part of my childhood near Usora, and most  of all my grandfather Mehmed. I drove Shark with him and spent my days in a mysterious mill grinding a fragrant grinder. Sometimes I would fall asleep in the mill and I was not afraid of the dark next to the brave grandfather, who was not afraid of anything. Grandfather Ibrahim, my mother’s father, with whom I spent summer vacations one year, was a good man, but not even close to Grandpa Mehmed.

He wouldn’t let me groom his  horses,  and  he  had three. He  forbade  me  to  ride  the horse  saying  he was angry and knew how to throw off a rider, while  Grandpa  Mehmed  was  his  opposite.  It seems to me that if I asked to drive his carriage, he would allow me to do the same. He was like that. Grandfather  Mehmed,  my  father’s    father,    was a huge man, hunched over and  like  a  blossom  of  white  hair,  which  he  covered  with  a  turban.  He wore black trousers and a white shirt in which he harmoniously bound a wide linen trabaloz. He had grasshoppers on his feet. His face was wrinkled. He had deep and cheerful eyes under the bushy canopies surrounded by wrinkled cheekbones. There was always an enigmatic smile on his face ... He was cheerful, ready to joke and tell interesting stories that I loved to listen to.

If we looked at each other for a moment, our eyes would tell us everything. And love  and  intimacy.  My grandmother Akif Pobro, mother Naza, brother Sado, sister Dina and I lived in my grandfather’s big house in Bobare, in a garden full of various fruit trees, by the hill above the road that led to the neighboring village of Kalošević. In addition to grandfather and grandmother Alema, uncle Meho, aunt Hana, their sons Rasim, Safet, Bećir and Džemal, aunts Hedi, Ramiz and Mina also lived in the house. Rasim and Bećir had their wives and children, so there were twenty-three of us living in the house.

Grandfather lived with his grandmother in a halvat on the ground floor of the house. Our halvat was on the first floor, and opposite it was the one where the uncle and aunt lived with the children. There were two halvats on the loggia where my uncles lived, Rasim and Bećir with their families. My aunts were in the kitchen, and they also had their common room on the loggia. In the morning, when we would get up, all twenty- three of us would sit for a huge blue and have breakfast, tasting with spoons from a large glass. Those more skillful would grab more food. The food was fasting, except on Fridays, when the mint would prepare wheat pie, sogan dolma, pilaf, halva, and sometimes gurabi jams. On other days, nana made soups, dumplings, croissants, tops and other fasting dishes that we ate with pleasure. We kids would stay last and lick the plates for a long time.

Then we would each part for our business. Nana would clean the house. Grandfather would go to the mill, daughters-in-law would work in the fields, gardens or milking cows, and children would look after them. For a snack, mint would thinly spread a slice of corn with kaymak or jam. Along the way, we would stop by someone else’s orchard and sweeten up there. That’s how we would spend our days working and playing. In the evening, we would all gather in my grandfather’s house, except for my grandmother, who worked in the mine in Zenica and came home one day. He would spend a day or two with us and go to Zenica again. When grandma would get paid, he would give it to

grandpa, and he would buy us some small things to make us happy.

-      As he finished political school in Kumrovec, his salary doubled - my mother boasted to her aunt over coffee, muttering:

-      My Akif will get an apartment in Zenica and he wants to take us all. He wants to hire me in a factory to be a seamstress.

This is how my hardworking mother boasted. Grandpa used to be angry and he would make noise when someone didn’t listen to him. He even knew how to swing the claw with which he sometimes cracked the mare Shark. He never looked at me grimly. He loved me the most, and I listened to him. He would often drive me in a carriage while Sharka trotted and he cracked his claw. Sometimes he would let me ride Shark in Blatusa. I, terrified, would grip the saddle tightly, and he would shout, encouraging me:

-      Don’t be afraid, Grandpa’s chicken! Fear not, Hinge is calm! She’s not a horse.

I loved going with my grandfather. He also liked  to go with me. I remember, once my grandfather even took me to the market in Teslić. He and I sat in the front, holding kayaks and claws and talking. A dozen women were driving in the car and we drove  to the market to sell grain, wheat, peppers, tomatoes, milk, cream ... We passed by my friends Kena Pekmez, Mira Žapac and Mujo Glavaš, who were grazing sheep at the grassland near the rake. They will surely envy me that my grandfather and I go to the market in the town, and their grandfathers do not take them anywhere. Admittedly, Mujo Žapac’s grandfather has a mare and sometimes drives him, but he never took him to town.

-      My chicken, do you know where Teslić is? My grandfather would ask, interrupting my daydreams.

-      Upstairs, Grandpa, I pointed to the big hills.

-      Well done, my clever girl! Upstairs is Teslić, said

his grandfather proudly.

-      And where is Zenica? I asked my grandfather.

-      Zenica is there, behind Husar - my grandfather pointed in the direction of the big hills.

-      How far is Zenica? I asked. Two days of good walking with Shark, Grandpa said, smiling. Uh, far away, I muttered.

-      Far away, Grandpa’s  chicken.  Far  away. When we arrived in Teslić, grandfather stopped Šarka in the shade of a crowned linden tree. I laid a handful of hay on her and unbuttoned the strands. Later, I groomed her for a long, long time and combed her lush mane, which she liked very much. Grandpa went to the market with the other passengers and he was gone for a long time.

I watched in amazement as cars, trucks and buses raced not far from us. I looked at the large glass windows from which enticing sweets, graders, toys ... Afterwards,  my  grandfather  brought  me  a  piece  of  cherry  and  half  of  the  hot-smelling  flatbread. I took the kayaks from my grandfather when we went home, he just looked and laughed, and sometimes said:

You will be a good coachman, my chicken.

Mysterious Mill

T

he mill is the most beautiful decoration of the river ... And right on the left bank of the gold-bearing Usora, which stretched like a silk thread down the

valley, my grandfather Mehmed had a mill in which he ground corn to the inhabitants of Pousorje, the villa- gers of Bobare, Kalošević, Putešić, Mrkotić and Vre- lo. and wheat. True, the mill was not just Grandpa’s. He was also his ally Uncle Adem. That is how grandfather and uncle Adem Bašić took turns in the mill every week.

On Friday morning, grandma prepared her grandfather for the