The market woman's joke: why didn't the Uzbek chess player hold the Indian woman's hand? (humor)

It's hard to understand a market woman who spends her nights on the phone and sleeps all day: she loves to make everyone's heads spin by philosophizing on topics she knows absolutely nothing about. Some even attribute this to the whims of widowhood. Today, too, the woman read a news story about an Uzbek chess player who refused to take the hand of an Indian woman, and we porters are in trouble.

- A girl like Suksura is reaching out to you, won't you hold her hand and sing her some Shahrukh Khan songs? She's a lullaby-singing person. Since this is a rule everywhere, you should keep holding her hand. In such a situation, international rules are followed, not faith. No matter what anyone says, this will have a bad effect on our image. This guy still needs to apologize to that Indian woman...

When a customer is a member of the Anko clan, we porters are obliged to listen to what she says. I, as a gentle person by nature, do not object to the aunt. But my partner Mominjon is not like that. He likes to refute the aunt's words.

- Image?! Aunt, what kind of image do you have that can be damaged? Why should a Muslim man in general follow the rules that the same people who invented international laws spit out whenever they feel like it, and turn their backs on the values that their ancestors considered important?

- Wow, you're smart. So, when did those who came up with these rules not follow them?

- Aren't those "law enforcement officers" you're talking about providing Israel with billions of dollars worth of weapons and massacring thousands of Palestinians? What's this if not a flouting of international rules?

"What do I say, what does my boss say?" The marketer laughed heartily, amused by what Auntie said. "I'm talking to you about sports, you're not educated."

-Then... After I pushed harder, Mominjon's words remained in his mouth. I seemed to be telling him, "Come on, don't be like that aunt." He was silent for a while, then he couldn't bear it anymore:

- Oh, my dear, why didn't you say these things to the Ukrainians who haven't seen Russian or Caucasian athletes? On the contrary, their actions have made those who made this rule with you feel ashamed...

"This shows how short-sighted you are, boy," the market woman said, sticking her chewing gum to her ear and looking at Momin with a bull's-eye:

- Would you meet an enemy athlete who invaded your country?

- Then, wouldn't it be right not to meet an athlete from a country that is destroying mosques built by our grandfather Muhammad Babur and building idols in their place, oppressing Indian Muslims and subjecting them to various tortures?

"Oh, my God, take this child away before I do anything!"

The market woman looks at me and those around her. I gesture to my partner to be quiet. Mominjon also softens a little:

- Okay, aunt, let's go to you. In fact, as I said, it's the lawmakers themselves who started violating international rules. The host country of the Olympics in France did not allow female athletes wearing hijabs to participate, violating the rights of Muslim women. It allowed men who were dressed as women to beat up the fairer sex, so why did you and those like you sit there with your tongue between your teeth?! As a Muslim child, you are paying tribute to our champion chess player, someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's partner, and crying if he doesn't hold her hand?!

Mominjon's words made the market woman blush like a turnip, her anger boiling over the fact that this illiterate young man was not stopping. As for me, I imagined that a few of the potatoes and onions that the aunt was selling would fly towards my partner. Fortunately, in the meantime, her cart-sized load had left. Otherwise, the market woman's face would have been in the air. We would have said nothing. As for me, I am a gentle person by nature who does not get involved in politics. I am also glad that our ears have calmed down now. Frankly, I am for peace. We can do it peacefully. The rest is just a matter of words...