Khorazmiy A.
By rubric: "Satiric of Khorezm”
Knockout at a London museum
(an adventure)
At the end of March 2008 I attended a congress of Jehovah’s Witnesses in London as a scientific researcher into world religions. Before returning home to Stockport I visited the world-famous museum "Madame Tussaud’s”.
In the museum of Madam Tussaud. London - 2008 In this museum are exhibited wax models of famous people from around the world, from Pele to Muhammad Ali, from Michael Jackson to Raj Kapur, from Karl Marx to Adolf Hitler, from Joseph Stalin to Elizabeth II and so on. Also in the basement are shown the dreadful actions of killers and bandits, as well as punishments used on people in former times.
After looking at the famous people I went down to the basement to have a look at the dreadful sights. By the entrance was a notice: "Entry not recommended for the faint hearted or those with a weak heart.” It turned out that the museum guide collects groups of 5 or 6 people, gives them appropriate recommendations and then sends them on their way to look at the exhibits.
Noticing my age and my relatively athletic figure, the guide put me in charge of the group and after giving various recommendations he asked "Do you all understand?” and we all replied in unison "Yes, we understand”. Due to the noise in our group and my as yet poor grasp of the language, amongst the various instructions from our guide I understood: "Be careful”, "Don’t be afraid”, "A killer-bandit could attack you suddenly”.
Then I thought "It’s not for nothing that they put me at the head of the group. Maybe they noticed that in my youth I was an athlete” and clenching my fists as the leader of the group and if necessary their saviour, began the tour.
In the darkness seeing the various terrible episodes was indeed frightening. The women at times cried out in fear at these sights. But I, clenching my fists hard led the way, in readiness for any extreme situation. Suddenly, a dreadful man reminiscent of a giant jumped out of a dark corner with a shout, brandishing a knife half a metre long. The knife, the hands and the clothes of this killer were stained with blood. It was not difficult to conclude that he had just killed someone.
All the people behind me cried out in fear, fell down, got up and began running off in all directions. Gathering all my strength and shouting "Allah is great!” I punched him hard in the jaw. The bandit who had been attacking us with a knife fell down, unconscious and the knife flew out of his hand.
Blood started to come out of his lower jaw but he was motionless. Just in case, I stood in readiness for the next bandit. Feeling that I still had the strength of an athlete and the ability of a boxer, both from my youth, I congratulated myself. Around us gathered many spectators and museum guards.
The members of my group, far from praising me, pointed at me shouting "He is a terrorist – he killed that man, saying "Allah is great”” and showed the blood flowing from the neck of the prone bandit. I was also amazed that blood should be flowing from his neck.
When I punched him, I had on my finger a 15-gramme ring with the inscription "Allah is great!” It turned out that this ring, under the pressure of the heavy blows, punctured the lower part of the jaw, which was where the blood was coming from.
Very soon a large of number of policemen who threatened me with their weapons and shouted "Hands up!” in confusion I raised my hands. Gradually the policemen approached me. If I made any slight movement they ran off in various directions out of fear, like birds being shooed away.
2 or 3 big policemen from their number jumped me and pinned me to the ground. They pulled my arms behind my back and handcuffed me. After my arrest the doctors who had arrived with the ambulance attended the injured man. They were happy to discover that he was still alive. They bandaged his jaw and stopped the bleeding.
One doctor said "He is still deeply unconscious”. He was given an injection and something to smell, after which he began to move. The police began to question me whilst I was still in handcuffs. I said that I acted in accordance with the instructions given by the museum guide and in so doing saved not only my own life, but those of the members of my group.
By way of evidence I pointed out the bloodstained hands and clothes of this bloodthirsty killer, who had just murdered someone. Blood was dripping from his knife and with a shout and brandishing a half-metre knife he attacked us, which would be corroborated by all the members of our group.
On hearing my testimony all the museum staff and police fell about laughing. The bandit also came to laughing: "I have one question for this boxer,” he said, barely enunciating his words due to his damaged jaw, "I survived the punches of even Mike Tyson, but this is the first time I experienced such a blow. What sort of boxing did you do and when were you a champion?”
In reply to his question I said: "In my youth I did box but didn’t even have a rating and now I am nearly sixty.” Then he said: "Thank God – if you had been younger you might simply have killed me with one blow,” and looking me up and down added "In fact you’re not a very big man.” They put me next to the bandit with the bandaged jaw and photographed us.
I was still deeply confused. As they explained, this "killer bandit” was only an actor, who played the role of a killer bandit who ‘knifed’ people. His knife and the blood on his hands and clothes were also false. It turned out that this actor had previously been a professional boxer.
It turned out the museum guide had said "The man who suddenly attacks you is not a bandit but an actor playing the role of a killer bandit. He won’t hurt anyone so don’t be frightened of him.” It was because my knowledge of English was still poor that I didn’t fully understand what the guide had said to me, which was the reason for this dangerous and yet funny adventure.
This gives me the opportunity of retelling a similar (though slightly different) adventure which took place some 40 years ago. In my youth I fanatically loved sports such as wrestling, weightlifting and boxing and trained constantly. Of course this produced its effect.
By the age of only 15 I could lift 32 kilogram weights 4 or 5 times with one hand. However, I then broke my hand and had to undergo a number of operations. I then continued training and took part in international competitions (in Uzbekistan in 1971 and in Africa in 1983), achieving high positions.
Akhmad strong man (Akhmad hoji Khorazmiy) is in a compitation
As a result I became known as "Akhmad the bogatyr” (bogatyr was a Russian folk hero) and a number of articles were published about me in the press. In 1967 I applied to enter the National University. However, the medical commission, on the advice of the surgeon-traumatologist Galina Vassilievna, who said "His hand was broken and operated on, so he is not fit for his chosen specialism” refused me entry.
I was upset at the medical commission’s decision and made the following request to them: "Alright, would you let the doctor shake my hand. I will squeeze hers as hard as I can with my operated-on hand. If she can bear it then I will agree with your decision.” The members of the commission put my proposal to the surgeon-traumatologist, to which a displeased Galina Vassilievna replied "If I must” and proffered her hands to me.
I laid my palm on her delicate hand and looked over to the members of the commission to receive permission to squeeze. They nodded in agreement. Everyone was watching the hands…
Feeling that the fate of my student career was about to be decided I gathered all my physical and spiritual forces and crying out "Yo polvon pir” (Uzbek for ‘Help me, teacher – bogatyr’) (Makhmud the bogatyr lived in Khorezma in the 13th century and was renowned both as a bogatyr and as a Sufi in the way of Javanmardi, the Persian chivalric tradition) I squeezed the doctor’s hand strongly.
Galina Vassilievna was unable to bear the pain and loudly cried out "Mama-a-a!!!!” and standing there wet herself for all to see. It turned out that her index finger was dislocated, whilst her small finger was broken in two places.
This I successfully passed through the medical commission and became a student. The University newspaper published a long article about this adventure under the title "The strength of a disabled hand”.
Professor Akhmad hoji Khorazmiy
Stockport, United Kingdom
(translated from the Russian by Marc Gwynne)
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