Having lost his parents as a child, the writer Shukhat Mardonov evokes his life in all his works. He learned that in a distant village, there lived a certain Kholumin who looked a lot like him. Knowing that he had had a brother, he began to hope that it could be this man. So he went to the village, but when he arrived, Kholumin had just died and the family, in which he lived, did not welcome the arrival of this stranger. Finally, a mutual understanding emerged.
