12/06/2026
Letra e Dzekos për fëmijët e Bosnjës që përloti gjithë Botën: Nga rritja në luftë, te sakrifica për ushqimin dhe Kupa e Botës 🇧🇦🥺
Kapiteni i përfaqësueses së Bosnjës dhe Hercegovinës, Edin Dzeko, ka shkruar një mesazh prekës në platformën e njohur mediatike "The Players' Tribune", e cila u jep mundësi sportistëve të rrëfejnë historitë e tyre personale.
Dzeko e shfrytëzoi këtë platformë për t’iu drejtuar fëmijëve të Bosnjës dhe Hercegovinës me një letër emocionale, pak para paraqitjes së kombëtares së tij në Kupën e Botës 2026, që do të zhvillohet në Shtetet e Bashkuara të Amerikës, Meksikë dhe Kanada.
Në "The Players' Tribune", sportistët më të njohur të botës ndajnë histori në vetën e parë për karrierën e tyre, jetën private, sfidat, lëndimet, shëndetin mendor, sukseset dhe dështimet.
𝐌𝐞̈ 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐞̈ 𝐞 𝐠𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐢 𝐭𝐞̈ 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐞̈ 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐞̈𝐧 𝐞 𝐃𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐨𝐬, 𝐭𝐞̈ 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚𝐫: "𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐞̈𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐞̈𝐦𝐢𝐣𝐞̈𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐞̈ 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐧𝐣𝐞̈𝐬 𝐝𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞̈𝐬":
𝑇𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑒̈𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝐵𝑜𝑠𝑛𝑗𝑒̈𝑠 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑒̈𝑠,
𝐾𝑎𝑚 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑚 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑧ℎ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑗𝑢.
𝐴𝑠𝑔𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟.
𝐴𝑠𝑔𝑗𝑒̈.
𝐽𝑒𝑚𝑖 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑗𝑒𝑚𝑖 𝑏𝑜𝑠ℎ𝑛𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒̈. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑝𝑜 𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑚 𝑠𝑖 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖 𝑡𝑎 𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑒̈𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑟𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑗, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑖 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑗𝑎𝑙𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑖 𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑖 𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑡𝑒̈𝑠 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑒ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑟.
𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑙𝑞𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑅𝑟𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛 𝑒 𝑆𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑒𝑣𝑒̈𝑠, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑟𝑒̈𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑠𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑗𝑢 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖 𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑖 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑒̈𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑡𝑒̈. 𝐼𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑔𝑗𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑐̧ 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑖. 𝑀𝑏𝑎𝑗 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑡 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈𝑛𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑎𝑝𝑖, 𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑠𝑎 𝑢 𝑓𝑠ℎ𝑒ℎ𝑒̈𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑒̈𝑝𝑢𝑐𝑒̈𝑣𝑒. 𝐾𝑗𝑜 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑎 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒̈. 𝑉𝑎𝑧ℎ𝑑𝑜𝑖 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑒̈𝑟 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑡. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑒 𝑘𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑡𝑒̈𝑠𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑒 𝑐̧𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑜 𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑑ℎ𝑡𝑒, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑐̧𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑎𝑟.
𝐾𝑢𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈𝑝𝑖𝑎 𝑗𝑜𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑢 𝑏𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑎𝑡𝑦, 𝑢 𝑧ℎ𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑠𝑒̈𝑚 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛 𝑒 𝑔𝑗𝑦𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑖. 𝑀𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑗 𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑡ℎ 40 𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑟𝑒̈. 𝐼𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 15 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑎 – 𝑘𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑗, ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑎, 𝑥ℎ𝑎𝑥ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑒̈ – 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑦𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒.
𝑁𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑀𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑖. 𝐴 𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑜𝑗𝑒̈? 𝐼𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑒 𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑧𝑖𝑘𝑠ℎ𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑗𝑒 𝑗𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈, 𝑠𝑒𝑝𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑗𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑡 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑞𝑦𝑡𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛, 𝑘𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑢 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑢𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑗𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑚𝑖 𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑦𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑘𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑡 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈𝑟𝑎. 𝐷𝑒̈𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑡 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑡. 𝑁𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑜𝑘𝑎 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑑ℎ𝑒𝑗 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑒̈𝑡 𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑗𝑒̈𝑠 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑦𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑒̈.
𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚, 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑜𝑔𝑙𝑎 𝑘𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑠𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑜𝑗𝑒̈. 𝑃𝑒̈𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎, 𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑡𝑒̈𝑛.
𝐷𝑜 𝑡𝑒̈ ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡𝑎 𝑝𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑗 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑡ℎ 𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ.
𝑃𝑒̈𝑟 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑚 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑛𝑎 𝑙𝑒𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑗 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑗𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑡 𝑓𝑒̈𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑒̈.
𝑁𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑒̈𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑏𝑜𝑙𝑙 𝑗𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈. 𝐶̧𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑖ℎ𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑗𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑧 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑗𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑚 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑎. 𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑖 𝑒 𝑚𝑏𝑦𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑒̈𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑒̈𝑟 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑡? 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑒̈. 𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒𝑗 𝑠𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑠𝑖, 𝑛𝑒̈𝑛𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑒 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑗𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑒̈𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑒̈𝑡 𝑒 𝑡𝑗𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑗𝑒𝑠.
𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑗 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑘𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒̈. 𝐾𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑢𝑧𝑒̈𝑞𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑗𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑒ℎ𝑡𝑒̈, 𝑠𝑒𝑝𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑡𝑢𝑟 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑖ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑢𝑟. 𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑖𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑘𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑠𝑦𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎 𝑘𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑠𝑎 𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑞𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑡ℎ𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈.
𝑇𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑎 𝑑𝑢ℎ𝑒𝑗 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑛𝑖𝑚 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒. 𝑁𝑎 𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑢𝑗𝑖 𝑣𝑎𝑧ℎ𝑑𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡, 𝑘𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑢 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑢ℎ𝑒𝑗 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑘𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈𝑟𝑒̈𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑗 𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑔𝑒̈𝑣𝑒 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡’𝑖 𝑚𝑏𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑟. 𝐴𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑒̈𝑡 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑗𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑘𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑡. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑗𝑖 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑘𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑒. 𝐾𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑢 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑒𝑐𝑛𝑖𝑚.
𝐾𝑎𝑡𝑖 𝑖 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑒̈...
𝐾𝑎𝑡𝑖 𝑖 𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑒̈𝑟𝑡...
𝐸𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑗𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑗𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟.
𝐷𝑢ℎ𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑒𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑒̈𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑎 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑆𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑒𝑣𝑒̈.
𝑈𝑠ℎ𝑞𝑖𝑚𝑖 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑢 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑡𝑒̈. 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑧𝑖𝑘𝑢𝑎𝑛 𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒 𝑡𝑦𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈. 𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑢𝑡𝑖 𝑚𝑒 𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑞𝑖𝑚 𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑞𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖, 𝑠𝑖𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑗𝑖. 𝐼 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑘𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑘𝑒̈𝑠. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑛𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒. 𝐼𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑘𝑒. 𝑃𝑒̈𝑟 𝑛𝑒, 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑗𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑗𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈𝑧𝑎𝑘𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑚𝑒. 𝐾𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈𝑗𝑡𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑗𝑒̈𝑟𝑎 𝑐̧𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑒̈, 𝑔𝑗𝑎𝑙𝑝𝑖 𝑖 𝑘𝑖𝑘𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑑𝑖ℎ𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑖 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑑ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑞𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖.
𝑁𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑, 𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑚. 𝐷𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑎, 𝑗𝑎𝑚 𝑖 ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐼𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑗𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑡 𝑓𝑒̈𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑒𝑔𝑗𝑒̈𝑙. 𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑡𝑎 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑘𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑚. 𝑇𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑡𝑎 𝑛𝑗𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑧 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑗𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑚 𝑢 𝑣𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑒̈, 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑐̧𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑒̈?
𝑃𝑒̈𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎.
𝑃𝑒̈𝑟 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑡.
𝑃𝑒̈𝑟 𝑒𝑔𝑜.
𝑃𝑒̈𝑟 𝑎𝑠𝑔𝑗𝑒̈.
𝐾𝑢𝑟 𝑘𝑎 𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑎𝑗𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑡, 𝑛𝑑𝑖ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑘𝑒𝑞.
𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑑𝑢𝑎 𝑡𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑜ℎ 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑢𝑛𝑑.
𝑃𝑒̈𝑟 𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑟𝑠𝑦𝑒, 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑚𝑒̈𝑠𝑜𝑗𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈.
𝐼𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑠𝑒 10 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑐̧ 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑖 𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑖. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑎𝑠𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑒̈ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑏𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡.
𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒𝑗 𝑎𝑞 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑎𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑒̈𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈. 𝐸 𝑠ℎ𝑖ℎ𝑛𝑖, 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑐̧𝑘𝑎 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑒̈𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑎𝑟. 𝐹𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑟 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑖ℎ𝑛𝑖 𝑠𝑜𝑡 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑗𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑖 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑙. 𝑉𝑎𝑧ℎ𝑑𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑎 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑏𝑜𝑙𝑙 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑚 𝑠𝑒𝑝𝑠𝑒 𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑎. 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑖 𝑖𝑚 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑐̧𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒̈𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒̈, 𝑘𝑢 𝑠𝑡𝑒̈𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒̈. 𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑, 𝑎𝑡𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑘𝑒̈𝑛 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛 𝑣𝑖𝑗𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑑ℎ𝑎 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑘𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑗𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑟.
𝑃𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑜ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑒̈𝑚𝑏𝑒̈𝑙𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑘𝑒̈, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑢 𝑏𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑙𝑢𝑏𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒̈, 𝑎𝑖 𝑏𝑒̈𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑝𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑐̧𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑡𝑒̈𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑗𝑒. 𝐺𝑗𝑎𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑔𝑒̈𝑠, 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑖 𝑠𝑗𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑚 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑡’𝑖 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈𝑠𝑜𝑗, 𝑝𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑟𝑒̈𝑠𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑝𝑜 𝑐̧𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑒̈𝑛𝑖𝑛. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑒̈. 𝐴𝑖 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑒𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑜𝑗𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑧𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑢𝑙𝑒̈𝑡𝑎 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑖 𝑖𝑚.
𝑆𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑗𝑎 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑎, 𝑎𝑖 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑗𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒:
“𝑃𝑎𝑐̧ 𝑓𝑎𝑡, 𝑏𝑖𝑟”.
𝑁𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑗𝑎𝑣𝑒̈, 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑘𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑏𝑜𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑢 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑟. (𝐺𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑖 𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑘𝑠𝑖𝑘𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑠ℎ𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑘𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈𝑛𝑒̈𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.)
𝑁𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑜ℎ𝑒̈, 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒 𝐴 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑎 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑒̈. 𝐴 𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑖 𝑑𝑒̈𝑔𝑗𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑣𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑘𝑜𝑛, 𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑛 𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡? 𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑙𝑞𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ “𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑣𝑎”. 𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑙𝑞𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝐼𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑎. 𝑀𝑢𝑎 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒𝑗 𝑠𝑖 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑛𝑒̈𝑛 𝑡𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑜𝑡𝑒̈𝑠. 𝑇𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑎 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑏𝑜𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑡𝑗𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑗𝑎. 𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒𝑗 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑚𝑒.
𝐸 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑚𝑗𝑎 𝑔𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑎 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑒𝑘𝑖𝑝𝑖𝑛 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑙𝑢𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚, 𝑍𝑒𝑙𝑗𝑒𝑧𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑟. 𝑁𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑡 𝑒 𝑚𝑖 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑖 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑣𝑎, 𝑠𝑒𝑝𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑛𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑎. 𝑈𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒̈: “𝐻𝑒̈𝑚, 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑗”.
𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑒̈, 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 19 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑐̧, 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑟 𝑒𝑟𝑑ℎ𝑖 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑅𝑒𝑝𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒̈𝑛 𝐶̧𝑒𝑘𝑒. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝐵𝑜𝑠𝑛𝑗𝑎, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑖 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑚𝑏𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑟 𝑒̈𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑟𝑒̈𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑗𝑒.
𝑇𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑡𝑒̈𝑛, 𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑗𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑎 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑒̈𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝐷𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑚 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑒̈𝑠𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑎. 𝐾𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑒. 𝑃𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑎 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑗𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑒.
𝐾𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑏𝑒̈𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑇𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒, 𝑖 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑠:
“𝐸𝑑𝑖𝑛, 𝑑𝑢ℎ𝑒𝑡 𝑡’𝑖 𝑡𝑒𝑗𝑘𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑠ℎ 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑎 𝑑𝑗𝑒𝑚 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑡𝑒̈𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑗𝑒, 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑦𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑗𝑛𝑒̈”.
𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 25 𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑒𝑢𝑟𝑜.
𝑅𝑟𝑒𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑦 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑜𝑛𝑒̈, 𝑛𝑒̈𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓𝑠𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑔.
𝐾𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑒̈𝑚 𝑘𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡, 𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑣𝑒̈𝑛.
𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐶𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑟𝑜𝑖 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 37 𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒̈.
𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑖𝑢 𝑏𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒̈𝑠.
𝑈 𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑡𝑒̈.
𝑃𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑠, 𝑝𝑜 𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑗𝑎 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒̈.
𝐴𝑠𝑔𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟.
𝐴𝑠 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝑒 𝑐̧𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝐵𝑜𝑠𝑛𝑗𝑒̈𝑛 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝐾𝑢𝑝𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒 𝐵𝑜𝑡𝑒̈𝑠.
𝐴 𝑒 𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛 2014? 𝑆ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑗 𝑗𝑢𝑠ℎ 𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑎 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒. 𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑢 𝑘𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑘𝑢𝑎𝑚 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝐾𝑢𝑝𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒 𝐵𝑜𝑡𝑒̈𝑠 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒̈, 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑎 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑒 𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑒̈.
𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑗𝑡𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑡 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑒̈𝑚 𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑗𝑒𝑛 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑚𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑘𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑘𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑢𝑚 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑟 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑖 𝑑ℎ𝑒, 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑔𝑗𝑦𝑞𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑖 𝑓𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑒̈𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑢 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑡, 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑟𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑜𝑠ℎ𝑛𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒̈𝑠ℎ 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑒̈ ℎ𝑖𝑑ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑏𝑖 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒̈.
𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑦 𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑎 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑦𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑢 𝑑𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑡𝑒̈ ℎ𝑖𝑑ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑏𝑖 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑛.
𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑗𝑡𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑡 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑢 𝑘𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑣𝑎 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑖 𝑝𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝑣𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ, 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑎𝑟:
“𝑍𝑜𝑡 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑑ℎ, 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑎 𝑑𝑗𝑒𝑚 𝑗𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑐̧𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟”.
𝐷ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑝𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑗𝑎𝑙𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑘 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑙𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑗𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑡.
𝐴𝑖 𝑝𝑜 𝑐̧𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑗𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑦.
𝐼𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑖 𝑖𝑚.
𝑈𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒̈:
“𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑖, 𝑐̧𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑎 𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑑ℎ𝑢𝑟?”
𝐴𝑖 𝑡ℎ𝑎:
“𝐸 𝑙𝑒̈𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑘𝑒̈𝑚𝑏𝑒̈𝑛 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑟𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒̈. 𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑢 𝑠ℎ𝑞𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑠𝑜. 𝑇𝑎𝑛𝑖 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑖, 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑗 𝑑ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑏𝑗𝑒!”
𝑁𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑗𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑡 𝑢 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑞𝑎𝑓𝑢𝑎𝑚 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑞𝑎𝑚𝑒̈.
𝐹𝑎𝑡𝑘𝑒𝑞𝑒̈𝑠𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡, 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑖 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑛𝑒̈𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝐵𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑖𝑙. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑎 𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑒̈, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑜𝑙 𝑘𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟 𝑁𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑢ℎ𝑒𝑗 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑟, 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑉𝐴𝑅, 𝑘𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑢 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑢 𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑖. 𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑎𝑘𝑡𝑒̈𝑛 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖 𝑦𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑖 𝑣𝑜𝑔𝑒̈𝑙 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑖 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑎.
𝑇𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑎𝑘𝑡𝑒̈𝑛 𝑖 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑚 𝑏𝑜𝑡𝑒̈𝑠 𝑠𝑒 𝑘𝑢𝑠ℎ 𝑗𝑒𝑚𝑖.
𝐷ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑖 𝑗𝑒𝑚𝑖 𝑘𝑡ℎ𝑦𝑒𝑟.
𝐸 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑐̧𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑘𝑒?
𝑀𝑏𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑎 40 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑐̧ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑒 𝑘𝑎𝑚 𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑟.
𝐽𝑎𝑚 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑅𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑧𝑎𝑛, 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎 𝑝𝑢𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑒̈𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟 𝑈𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠𝑖𝑡 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝐼𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑒̈.
𝐾𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑢 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑣𝑎:
“𝑁𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑙𝑙, 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑎 𝑏𝑒̈𝑗 𝐾𝐸̈𝑇𝐸̈ 𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒̈𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒”.
𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑗𝑡𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑡 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑢𝑟 1-0 𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑗 𝑈𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠𝑖𝑡 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑘𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑧𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒.
85:00.
𝑃𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑘.
𝑃𝑜 𝑛𝑎 𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑘𝑜ℎ𝑎.
𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑓𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑗𝑒 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑘𝑒̈𝑛𝑑𝑖 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑗𝑎𝑙𝑒̈ 𝑖 𝑣𝑜𝑔𝑒̈𝑙 𝑝𝑜 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒.
𝑈𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒̈:
“𝑂ℎ, 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑒̈𝑙𝑞𝑦𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑚!”
𝐸 𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑛 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑟𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑ℎ𝑒, 𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑠𝑎 𝑝𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑗𝑎, 𝑚’𝑢 𝑘𝑢𝑗𝑡𝑢𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑞𝑒𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑒̈𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑔𝑗𝑎𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑒.
𝐼 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑢𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑎.
𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑒̈ 𝑍𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑡, 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑗𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑖 𝑡’𝑖 𝑔𝑗𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑒̈.
𝐴𝑡𝑎 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑖 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑒̈𝑟𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑖 𝑛𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑒̈𝑡.
𝐾𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑒̈𝑚 𝑘𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟 𝐼𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑍𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑒̈, 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎.
𝐴𝑖 𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑑ℎ, 𝑒 𝑘𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑜𝑛?
𝑆𝑖𝑛𝑞𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡, 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑗𝑎𝑚 𝑖 𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑛𝑒̈𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑘𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑖𝑗 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑗𝑒𝑡 𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑙𝑒̈𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒 𝑑𝑗𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑜ℎ𝑒̈𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑒̈ 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑢ℎ𝑒𝑗 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑗𝑎 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑗𝑎.
𝑁𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑎𝑘𝑡, 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒̈, 𝑠𝑒𝑝𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑖 𝑦𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑜 𝑚𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑑ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑘𝑟𝑎ℎ𝑢𝑛 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑘𝑠.
𝐼𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑢𝑙𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑙 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑡 𝑝𝑜 𝑚𝑎 𝑏𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑘𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑚𝑗𝑒𝑛.
𝐾𝑢𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑖 𝑢 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑔𝑗𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑗𝑒, 𝑑𝑒̈𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑚𝑒̈𝑛 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑢𝑙𝑒̈𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑣𝑎:
“𝐸 𝑑𝑖 𝑐̧𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑒̈? 𝑁𝑑𝑜𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑎 𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑎𝑡. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑘𝑜𝑗. 𝑁𝑢𝑘 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑘𝑜𝑗. 𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑒𝑗𝑜𝑛𝑖 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑒̈𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑗 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑚𝑒̈𝑛. 𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑒𝑗𝑜𝑛𝑖 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑒̈𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑗 𝑛𝑗𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑧𝑖𝑡 𝑒 𝑚𝑖”.
𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝐼𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑜𝑖.
𝑍ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑚𝑎 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑒̈.
𝐾𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑡𝑎 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑟, 𝑧ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑚𝑎 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑒 𝑐̧𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟.
𝑈𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑗𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑡 𝑝𝑜 𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑎.
𝐸 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑚𝑗𝑎 𝑔𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑖ℎ𝑗𝑎 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡 𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑒̈.
𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗, 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝐸𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑖 𝑢 𝑎𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑎 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑚𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑖 𝑦𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑢 𝑘𝑡ℎ𝑦𝑒 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎:
“𝐴𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑘𝑜𝑗”.
𝐴𝑖 𝑒𝑟𝑑ℎ𝑖 𝑡𝑒𝑘 𝑢𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑞𝑎𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑠𝑖 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑟𝑖.
𝑁𝑒 𝑖 𝑏𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑢𝑎𝑚 𝑘𝑜𝑘𝑎𝑡, 𝑚𝑏𝑦𝑙𝑙𝑒̈𝑚 𝑠𝑦𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑗𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑡 𝑑𝑒̈𝑔𝑗𝑢𝑎𝑚...
𝐷ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑑𝑒̈𝑔𝑗𝑢𝑎𝑚 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑐̧𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑠ℎ𝑒̈𝑚 𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈.
𝐸 𝑑𝑒̈𝑔𝑗𝑢𝑎𝑚 𝐸𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑛.
𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑚𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑖:
“𝐴ℎℎℎℎℎℎℎ....”
𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎 𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑘𝑢 𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑛.
𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑚𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑖:
“𝑂ℎℎℎℎℎℎ…”
𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑢𝑚𝑖 ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑖 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡.
𝐼𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑘𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑔𝑗𝑎𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑒.
𝐷ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗...
𝑁𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑚.
𝐵𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑚𝑎, 𝑓𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑘𝑧𝑗𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑒̈, 𝑡𝑦𝑚 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒̈.
𝑁𝑗𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑧 𝑞𝑒̈ ℎ𝑖𝑑ℎ𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑡ℎ.
𝐼 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑖 𝑦𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑖 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒̈.
𝐸 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑞𝑎𝑓𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚 𝑒𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡, 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑘𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑡 𝑞𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑡 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑙𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑚𝑒̈𝑛 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑎𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑒.
“𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐴𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻𝐻!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
𝐾𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑢 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 20 𝑠𝑒𝑘𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑎.
𝑉𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖 𝑦𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑖 𝑣𝑜𝑔𝑒̈𝑙 𝑝𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑠𝑒̈𝑟𝑖 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝐾𝑢𝑝𝑒̈𝑛 𝑒 𝐵𝑜𝑡𝑒̈𝑠.
𝑇𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑢 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑘𝑎 𝑞𝑒𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑙𝑒ℎ𝑡𝑒̈.
𝐸𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑙𝑒ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑗𝑒 40 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑐̧, 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑏 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑒̈𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑛 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑒̈𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑒𝑠 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑢ℎ𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑒̈𝑟𝑘𝑜𝑠ℎ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑠𝑒̈𝑟𝑖 𝑞𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑠𝑢𝑒𝑠 𝑑ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑏𝑗𝑒𝑠ℎ.
𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑖 𝑖𝑚 𝑑𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒̈𝑧𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑡, 𝑘𝑢𝑗𝑡𝑜𝑗 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑎𝑚 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑢𝑟, 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑎𝑚 𝑘𝑎𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑔 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑗𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑎 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑢𝑎 𝑘𝑎𝑚 𝑘𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑠𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑞𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑚𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑜𝑘𝑡𝑒𝑗𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑧ℎ.
𝑀𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡, 𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑣𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒̈.
𝐾𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑘𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑑ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑛.
𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑙 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒̈, 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑛𝑑𝑖ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑖 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑒̈𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑒̈, 𝑠𝑖 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑗𝑢, 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑘 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑗𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑦.
𝐷ℎ𝑒 𝑐̧𝑑𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑡ℎ𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑒 𝑒 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈𝑗𝑡𝑎 𝑔𝑗𝑒̈.
𝐼𝑎 𝑣𝑙𝑒𝑛.
𝑇𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑎.
𝑃𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑡 𝑒 𝑘𝑒̈𝑞𝑖𝑗𝑎, 𝑎𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑣𝑖𝑗𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈.
𝐾𝑢𝑟 𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑚 𝐼𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒̈, 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑖ℎ𝑗𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑑𝑗𝑒𝑚𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑚𝑖, 𝑎𝑡𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑒̈𝑡 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑡𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒 𝐴.
𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑗 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑒𝑗𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑗𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑎.
𝐸 𝑝𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑢𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.
𝐼 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑞𝑎𝑓𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑖𝑡 𝑒 𝑚𝑖.
𝑃𝑎 𝑡𝑎, 𝑎𝑠𝑔𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑘𝑗𝑜 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑑ℎ𝑢𝑟.
𝐴𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒̈, 𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑚 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑡 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑍𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑒̈ 𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑚𝑒.
𝑆𝑎 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑗𝑎𝑚 𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑔 𝐵𝑜𝑠𝑛𝑗𝑒̈𝑠, 𝑎𝑞 𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑎 𝑎𝑡𝑒̈.
𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑎𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑟 20 𝑣𝑗𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑖.
𝑁𝑒̈𝑛𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑗 𝑡𝑦𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝐼𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑖.
𝐹𝑒̈𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑒̈𝑡 𝑒 𝑚𝑖 𝑘𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒̈.
𝐸̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈𝑝𝑖𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑒 𝑑𝑦𝑡𝑒̈.
𝑃𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑖𝑧𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑗 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒̈𝑟𝑖𝑡 𝑒 𝑚𝑖 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑆𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑒𝑣𝑒̈, 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈𝑛𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑜 𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑛, 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈ 𝑗𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑡𝑦, 𝑗𝑎𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑗𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑖 𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑡𝑢𝑟.
𝐷𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑟 𝑘𝑒̈𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒̈, 𝑧𝑒𝑚𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑟𝑒ℎ 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑚𝑒̈𝑛𝑦𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑒̈𝑟.
𝑃𝑜 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚.
𝑃𝑜 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑑𝑗𝑒𝑚𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑎𝑗𝑧𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑔𝑒̈𝑡 𝑒 𝑆𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑒𝑣𝑒̈𝑠.
𝑃𝑜 𝑙𝑢𝑎𝑗 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑎 𝑘𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑡 𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑒 𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑦𝑠ℎ𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑒̈ 𝑒 𝑏𝑒̈𝑗𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑎𝑞 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑢𝑘𝑢𝑟, 𝑒𝑑ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒̈𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎 𝑛𝑗𝑒𝑟𝑒̈𝑧 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟𝑝𝑖𝑞𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑎 𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑗𝑛𝑒̈.
𝐴𝑡𝑎 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑠𝑢𝑘𝑠𝑒𝑠.
𝐽𝑜 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚.
𝐽𝑜 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑎𝑘 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑒.
𝑁𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑚𝑒̈𝑠𝑜𝑗𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈.
𝐸̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑝𝑒̈𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑘𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑛 𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑗, 𝑓𝑒̈𝑚𝑖𝑗𝑒̈...
𝐽𝑢 𝑛𝑢𝑘 𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑦𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑖 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈.
𝑀𝑒̈ 𝑏𝑒̈𝑛𝑖 𝑛𝑗𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑡, 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑙𝑙?
𝑃𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑟𝑒̈𝑠𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑒̈𝑠𝑒 𝑗𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑆𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑒𝑣𝑒̈, 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑝𝑜 𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑆ℎ𝑒̈𝑛 𝐿𝑢𝑖𝑠...
𝑁𝑒̈𝑠𝑒 𝑗𝑒𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑝𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑗, 𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒̈ 𝑎𝑝𝑜 𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑘𝑠𝑒̈...
𝑀𝑜𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖 𝑘𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑖.
𝐽𝑢 𝑗𝑒𝑛𝑖 𝑏𝑜𝑠ℎ𝑛𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒̈.
𝐵𝑜𝑡𝑎 𝑒̈𝑠ℎ𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑛𝑒̈𝑛 𝑘𝑒̈𝑚𝑏𝑒̈𝑡 𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑎.
𝐽𝑢 𝑑𝑢𝑎 𝑡𝑒̈ 𝑔𝑗𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒̈𝑣𝑒.
𝑀𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑘𝑡,
— 𝐸𝑑𝑖𝑛
