Lusine Hakobyan's Stories
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“What should I do now”, I was talking to myself. “Who told you to go out for a walk all alone? Didn't you know you would get lost? I think I will knock at this door and ask about a possible way out”.
I pulled the rusty gate, which squeaked and let me in. There, inside, under an apricot tree two 5 to 6 year old children were playing. The girl who stood at the doorway went in and returned with a woman. I told her I was lost and asked whether I could use their phone.
“Come in; wait for a while and I will go to call from our neighbor's. We don't have a phone. ”
I entered the house, which, to tell the truth, was far from being one. It was dark inside. The light came in from a tiny window. There was something like a bookcase and a bed beside the table and some chairs in the room. A man was lying in the bed. The atmosphere in the room made me feel depressed and I hurried to leave it.
“Let's go see our garden”, said the girl standing outside the house.
What they called a garden was made up of some trees and beds on which many different things grew.
“I have planted a flower here, but don't tell mother about it. She'll get angry. She tells me not to occupy myself with senseless things--but the flowers are beautiful, they are not senseless”, said my escortesse.
“What's your name”, I asked.
“Ani.”
“How old are you?”
“I am ten, but I don't go to school”, she added quickly as if guessing my question to follow.
“Why?”
“I am helping mother. She collects money in the streets. I look after Suren and Armen meanwhile, or help her about the house. Besides, one needs money to go to school.”
“And where is your father?”
“In the house. Don't you remember the man lying in the bed? He has been having a footache, he can't walk”, answered Ani in a calm voice.
“Where do you come from?”
“We are refugees. Mother tells us it was good in our motherland, but I don't remember as I was born here. I will leave for America when I grow up. It is not good here. Mother says no one loved us when we first came here. They are greedy here; they give nothing to others. In the yard children mock me; they say refugees have come to destroy their life. Let these flowers grow. Then everybody will be jealous of me. I will have beautiful flowers which I will give to no one, even for money. This is not an ordinary flower; it is my friend. I will never sell it.
I don't know whether her flower grew or not but I know one thing for sure, which is that ten year old little girl taught me more important things than all of my teachers did during the eight years of my school attendance.
Wrote at 13 years old age
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“About Myself” (About Me)
I don't know who I am as there is a complete chaos in my mind and soul at the moment and changeability is the only feature of mine which I can best be seen. I can assure you once I used to be better than now. I am very indecisive. I hesitate all the time even I am sure of what I do. I lack self confidence. I can't refuse people and suffer as a result. Sometimes I do things I feel ashamed about later. Craziness… I am very lazy; I leave every thing for the last moment to do. It won't be a self praise to say I am kind and love my relatives. Sometimes I become selfish and hurt people who are close to me. I am a serious person, but from time to time things change and I start teasing others. I am become unbearable at those moments. I get offended from nothing and though at the bottom of my heart I realize my fault I never accept the fact in reality. I don't like others talking badly of my best loved people but do the same with those of theirs. I am very sensitive: when people are laughing next to me it seems they are laughing at me.
That's me. I leave it for you to decide whether I am god or bad.
Wrote at 14 years old age
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I have thought much of war and peace and have failed to understand the causes of wars. They seem to be so easy and solvable. The adults really tend to make things complicated. I am sure children would be able to solve all the problems on any battlefield if the adults cared to turn to them. It's easy to say war is a great vice or that peace should be established all over the world. One should just be a bit kind to put an end to wars.
People are very pessimistic nowadays. Everybody thinks wars will never end that our planet is going to be ruined. That's why we have never thought of how to establish peace. We should come to the notion the earth is very small and its inhabitants are and should be like one family. We should realize every destroyed house is ours, every killed person is our relative.
No one is better than others are and no one has the right to deprive people of their lives.
Peace cannot be reached if we only wish of it. We should always keep to the Bible saying, “Love each other”.
Wrote at 13 years old age
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My parents had two children, my sister and me. We lived happy and cared for nothing: ate, played and went to bed. These were probably the happiest days of my life. One day my mom told me that there would be a new member in our family. I was glad to have a brother, a new playmate or, better to say, a new toy. My brother's name was to be Stepan.
We moved to granny's place while mom was in the hospital. Every day we were tying food on a rope and sending it up to the window of the ward where my mom was. I don't remember things clearly. Maybe all this is a matter of my imagination, maybe no rope or any food was ever sent.
At last the day arrived. My mom and brother came home. To tell the truth, my brother didn't meet my expectations. He looked pale and was screaming incessantly. The first drawback is now gone but yelling is still causing much trouble. I asked, “Why is he screaming, mom?”
“He is sorry for being born,” was the answer.
“We can take him to where he came from, if he feels sorry for being born.” This was my offer but no one even listened to it, being busy with the newborn.
I sat pouting in a lonely corner, hoping to be consoled. My two year old sister was the only person paying attention to me.
“Ga, ga, ga…” My brother was babbling something that only another newborn could understand.
“Be quiet,” I shouted in an angry voice.
My sister, I guess, was just as tired of the baby's noise and immediately came to help me kill Stepan. We put the baby down, on the floor, and covered him with pillows. If not for mom… the world would lack a boy.
I cannot tell you for exactly how long I was on bad terms with my brother, but one day I understood that I could not manage without this stubborn and naughty little being. I approached mom and asked her, “Can I hold him, mom?”
Mom usually gave me Stepan to hold with her help. “Come on, mom. I can hold him all by myself. Let him go, please.” I was displeased with not being trusted.
It is only now, many years later I realize that with Stepan in our house, we got not only joy and happiness, but also maturity.
Wrote at 14 years old age
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Mrs. Anik is the oldest resident on our street. She lives opposite our house on the other side of the stream. The stream divides our street into two. Many of those who live here have stories about the stream. I can't imagine our neighborhood without it, or without Mrs. Anik. The stream, Mrs. Anik, and her bench form a unity, a part of the street. I think Mrs. Anik looks like the mulberry tree in our yard. Her face and hands look like the tree bark. They are brown and wrinkled. Mrs. Anik lives alone, but her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren are her frequent guests.
Then there are Mr. Zhora and Mrs. Olga. Grandpa Zhora came to Armenia when he was 27. He had spent his childhood and youth in Greece . Grandpa Zhora has a cow with a broken horn. The cow had once fallen into the stream and broken its horn. Mrs. Olga had once fallen there, too, but didn't sink because she was so fat. Only some strong men were only able to take her out of the stream.
Sister Eran lives on the other side of the stream. To tell the truth, she is an aunt and even a grandmother but makes everyone call her sister. Sister Eran lived alone or, to be more accurate, with some ten cats. The name of these cats' grandmother was Maneh. My sister, though younger than the cat, had the same name. When Maneh the Cat died Sister Eran buried her and put a stone over her grave. My sister, Maneh, reminded Sister Eran of her dear cat and she used to cry every time she saw her. Some of Mrs. Eran's cats had fallen into the stream and sunk and for that reason she didn't like it.
Uncle Yervand and Mrs. Lilik also live in our street. Once I used to play with their calves, which are now big cows whose milk we drink.
Uncle Samvel is another member of our neighborhood. He lives here with his family and a dog called Vanda. Once Vanda scared me, and I scared it back. After that incident, Samvel would take Vanda out only when I was at home so that we wouldn't meet.
Next comes my grandpa. My grandparents visit us nearly every morning and leave our place in the evening. Grandpa is a jack of all trades, and that's the reason people love and respect him. When any problem arises with someone's phone, Artsroun is ready to help. If an animal or even a child is sinking- no problem if Artsroun is somewhere nearby. In a word, he is always of help to everyone: to my brother whose bicycle has a flat tyre, to the neighborhood children who need a swing.
Sometimes it seems to me that all the people round are wicked. But at those moments I remember my grandfather. He is the kindest person on the earth.
So this is how people look in our neighborhood.
Wrote at 13 years old age
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If I didn't exist, oh, that would have been a huge disappointment. The history teacher wouldn't have anyone to put her hopes on, if they will answer well, like it happened when the head of the teachers' group came to overlook our class. If I didn't exist, who would have kept up the face of the classroom? Who? This is, of course, a joke. I cannot say what would have happened if I didn't exist, because if I didn't exist, in that case I wouldn't know what would have happened, if I didn't exist.
Wrote at 9 years old age
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“Whether it’s easy to be a father” (Young and old)
“Dad, is it easy to be the father of three?”
“It’s not easy, but it’s a pleasure.”
“Why?”
“It’s a pleasure when you have three children, 2 daughters and a son. It’s a pleasure to watch them grow up.”
“Dad, do you want to stay here?”
“Of course.”
“Then why are you going?”
“I’m going so it will be better.”
“What is the most previous thing to you in life?”
“Family.”
“If that’s true, why are you leaving us?”
“I’m not leaving. And I’m going because family is the most precious thing to me.”
“Dad, when will you come back?”
“As soon as possible.”
“And what will we do without you.”
“You will live.”
“I will miss you a lot.”
“I will miss you too.”
Wrote at 11 years old age
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“Help, help! I don’t know what to do. I got myself into a difficult situation. People think I am an alien, a stranger. Nobody understands me, even my friend. Although we are close, she doesn’t understand me. The thing is that I don’t even tell her about me, or tell wrong things. How can she then understand me, or feel sympathy towards me? For example, there is a student in our class who is not an ordinary person, he is strange and doesn’t dress like everyone else. My classmates hate him, but I am not at odds with him. I am OK but a strange thing- I reprimand him most of all. Isn’t it strange? I don’t know. If you are able to help me and explain my actions, please write to “Manana” center, care of Lusine Hakobyan.”
Wrote at 13 years old age
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If I didn't exist, oh, that would have been a huge disappointment. The history teacher wouldn't have anyone to put her hopes on to answer correctly, like it happened when the head of the teachers' group came to overlook our class. If I didn't exist, who would have kept up the face of the classroom? Who? This is, of course, a joke. I cannot say what would have happened if I didn't exist because if I didn't exist, in that case I wouldn't know what would have happened, if I didn't exist.
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“Lusine Hakobyan, ‘bad’,” said my new teacher coldly and opened the test copy-book.
Awful.
“A bad mark?” I could hardly utter. I thought that the teacher might have been mistaken because I had never ever got a bad mark.
“A bad mark,” the teacher confirmed indifferently. “You had many mistakes, and only one exercise was written correctly. You can have a look, if you want. ”
I took the copy-book and saw my big mark in red ink. The light dimmed, I felt dizzy, I couldn’t breathe. How could I get a bad mark? Even satisfactory mark made me creepy. What will my folks think about me? Shall I tell them I have received the worst mark in the world?
Thinking of my sad situation, I started crying, which was more shameful when getting the bad mark. The tears were rolling down my cheeks on the notorious mark.
“There was no way out, you had solved one problem and I could put you but a bad mark,” the teacher tried to calm me.
But her words did not console me, life seemed meaningless because of the bad mark
“Don’t worry, I will try to do something,” sighed the teacher.
She took my copy-book and made some notes. She had changed my mark.
Wrote at 14 years old age
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“2322, September 16, New York, the UN officials signed a peace agreement. A year later they signed a document on nuclear weapon. There is no nuclear danger…”
“What are you busy with, Ann?”
“Preparing lessons, mom.”
“Your dad might be hungry. Would you take this lunch for him?”
“Can’t you send it by a sender machine?”
“You better go there yourself… and it will be a good chance to see dad’s office.”
“Then give me fuel and I will go.”
“Be careful, don’t drive yourself, and switch on the automatic control.”
“…there is no nuclear danger. Scientific and technical giants are flooding our reality…2345, European spacemen landed on… before the American crew… ”
“Stop reading Ann. You have landed already.”
“Is it you dad?”
“It’s me. You’re reading too much, you better meet you friends instead. ”
“Who to meet? My only best friend has left for Italy.”
“I don’t know, think of something. Well, come on… Be careful not to step on this new ant species. My last invention!! If I am successful in my experiments and accounts, 80% percent of our land will be covered with green thanks to these insects. ”
“And why do we need this green? Look around you. All the houses are built in forests, the atmosphere is clean. Who could think this might be real some day? Some centuries ago they would have taken us for insane if we had told about green paradise of the future.”
I am back home again. At last I can sit down to my books... Where had I stopped…?
“…European spacemen landed on the planet Mars before the American crew. The American Space Agency proved right: there has never been life on this planet, there is none now and no signs of life can be traced for the future. Despite this fact, the American reputation is far from being the best. ”
“The phone, Ann…”
“Who’s calling?”
“Your friend from Turkey.”
“Eff, it’s you, hey.”
“I am back and I am waiting for you.”
“I am busy, very busy at the moment. Can’t come right now. ”
“Come when you want. I’ll be waiting.”
“…Latin America, Africa, United Europe, Southern Asia and South-Western Asia became stronger than ever, our country being the leader. People chose a peaceful lifestyle… ”
“…and you will visit your friend in the neighboring country to prove this lifestyle.”
“You are right this time, mom. Our generation has the responsibility to improve this world and make it better, and we have to start right now.”
Wrote at 14 years old age
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One act Play: Me, Me 1, Me 2
Me 2: “You, be quiet, I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to her.”
Me: “But it’s my business too, isn’t it?”
Me 2: “Don’t interfere; we’ll decide what you will do. Furthermore, I will decide because I can’t rely upon you.”
Me 1: [babbling] “Why can’t I decide? What’s wrong with me?”
Me 2: [rudely] “Everything. First you’re kind to me, but you’re weak. Look at yourself [teasing], and you’ll understand me. When you see the smallest problem, you surrender, you give up easily, when something bad happens to you, you cry. You can’t do anything. For example, something happens to her, she doesn’t want to do her homework, what will you do, what do you think?”
Me 1: “I don’t know.”
Me 2: “I know. You see the world through rose-tinted glasses, you would say: “Oh well, I won’t do my homework today. Nothing will happen.” You should have made her feel angry with everyone, so that she hated everyone, this would have motivated her to sit down to do her lessons, and prove to everyone that she was able.”
Me 1: “Do you think that she would ever achieve anything with such an attitude in her heart?”
Me 2: “Of course she would, don’t be stupid.”
Me 1: “Do you really think so? All these years we have lived with elevated ideals of love, beauty, humanism… But something was missing. And now you’re saying this, I think, to make us quarrel.”
Me 2: “I am right. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I wanted to choke you, when you were filling her head with love, humanism, beauty – ridiculous ideas [teasing]. One must be more of a realist sometimes. Your time is up, now it’s my turn. Now you must sleep, you’ll wake when I tell you. Don’t worry; I’ll let you dream for half an hour each day. You see, I can be good too.”
Me 1: “Enough! Is that everything? What you said was in vain. She must choose us, we can’t change a thing.”
Me 2: I know. It will be a challenge for her, which will help her overcome more difficulties in the future. You must make the decision.”
Me: I’m listening…and I will make it.”
Me 1 and 2: And so.
Me: … [silence].
Wrote at 14 years old age
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“Elevator Traveling” (Confusion)
The wardrobe in our house is my most loved place in the world. When playing hide-and-seek you are welcome to hide there, for you will remain unnoticed. One more secret: this is not an ordinary wardrobe, it is also an elevator. If you want to go to the millionth floor just enter the wardrobe and scream:
“Wardrobe-elevator take me to the millionth floor!”
You may not believe this but it is a real elevator for us.
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“The smell of indifference” (The school)
“Children, Yeghishe Charents is one of the greatest Armenian poets. He… ”
“Did you see the episode yesterday? I bet you don’t know what happened.”
There is a dull murmuring in the classroom but it isn’t children’s voices.
“…if he only wrote the poem ‘Sweet flavored speech of Armenia…’”
“…yes I told him to leave that girl.”
The murmuring increases and the noise is getting louder.
“…and here are Saroyan’s words…”
“… pass this note, please…”
The murmuring goes on and the air starts to smell strange.
The teacher recites some more of Charents. I wonder who is listening.
The murmuring becomes more distinct, the smell heavier.
“Children, stop talking there.”
“What smell is this?”
It is the indifference that has penetrated in through windows and wall cracks with its murmuring and stink.
Wrote at 15 years old age
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