Maneh Tonoyan's Stories
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“About Myself” (About Me)
When being praised she shifts her look or changes the subject. But I know what goes on with her at the moment: either her cheeks blush or her eyes get wet. Then she plays with her eye brows, touches her eyes trying to stay invisible, closes her cheeks as if trying to put down the fire burning inside and blows up her hair, adding: “It is hot, isn't it?” And if they don't agree with her on the fact of being hot she blushes again. But they fortunately agree in most of the cases. Another thing about her is that she loves doing good to other people. She can never say no to those who turn to her with a request even though she realizes she is really unable to be helpful in most of the cases.
“Maneh, will you clean Mush's shoes? They are all in mud”, mother asks her.
“I will, I will”, she says in reply.
It rains. Mush has no shoes to put on. Maneh hasn't still cleaned them.
“I will, I will…” mother reprimands. “Your sister never promises to do thing she knows she will not. An eternity passes till you decide to do something.”
Maneh, nevertheless, thinks refusal to do a thing is worse than the promise which you are not supposed to keep.
People call her an “Arab” or an old lady who wears a shawl on her head. She doesn't like people saying this but the shawl is always on her.
Rare are the cases when she is back home from school without red and swelled eyes. The reason is either a problem with class boys or a good mark instead of an excellent one.
“Who are they to see you crying”, Maneh's brave friends encourage her.
When walks along the street they take her for an insane.
She helps people but never shows her willingness to hear a thanksgiving word from them though she really wants it to.
I'll tell you one more thing about Maneh, but please, keep it in secret. She never conceals the truth, talks straightly to people and tries to be as frank as possible.
Wrote at 14 years old age
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Why do people kill mice? This is because mice would never heed people's demand to stop making holes on the floor, or take away grains, they are neither going to understand us, nor to die of hunger. So people have no other choice but killing these animals. Who knows, maybe, it might have been possible to use them somehow and pay them back in form of grains? We may just suppose the mice themselves did not prefer this way of life.
People kill elephants, foxes, cows, birds (and many other animals) merely because they get some profit from them.
They get ivory from elephants (you know that it is very expensive), fur from foxes, meat from cows, feather from birds. Having profit is a kind of justification for people.
What a pity people kill each other, people become extinct. Can't they negotiate and come to consent?
They actually negotiate but consent is never reached.
So, this is the way the most evil thing in the world, war starts. Justifications exist even here. Some want oil, others free access to the sea, some say they are to attack not be attacked by others. All have justifications, an aim to reach to without any regard to the means applied.
Now, I am thinking over those reasons and fail to understand where it is safe. States are large and small, powerful and not, rich and poor. Powerful countries swallow less developed ones, the latter attack the former out of fear. Any state having riches inside is destined to try the power of other's fist. Good geographical position predestines the bad situation of a country. So, we can find no place to live safely in. Maybe people should sit down to think over this and stop making wars.
Wrote at 14 years old age
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The school bell rang and I got up. Then I heard noise coming out of the bakery. In my dream it sounded like the menacing school bell ring. I approached the window sleepily, opened it and leaned out. I could smell the newly baked bread in the air. Then I heard another ring, it was the honk of the green car.
Now I am on my way to school. The road looks like a construction place full of stones, and there was water coming out of the damaged pipes. Many children pass along this green path leading to the gates of knowledge.
“Hello,” a rusty haired face looking like a burnt corn greeted me. “Is Sona coming to classes today?” It was a classmate of my sister, Sona. “She'll be here in a second; she is busy combing her hair at the moment.”
I keep walking. Here, in this place, I usually run into my friend with a sparkling face. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I greeted my friend sleepily. I respect and love my friend very much. He is my best friend.
Now I am back at home, calmly having lunch in the kitchen. I hear people talking under our window, “Father, tell Ashot to let me ride the bicycle.”
“Hey, you, give the bicycle to Gevorg.”
I finished my lunch. Now I am standing by the oven making coffee. I hear them yelling outside, “Tigran, come home. You have homework to do” our neighbor's voice broke the air and it seemed she was about to fall down.
“Coming, mom!”
Then came the most interesting moment, the moment when I was to take Moush out for a walk. Moush looks mad, then I put him in his stroller and took him around our neighborhood to try and introduce it to him. Then come the ten top guys of our yard: Tsit, Mkho, Bidza, Abo and some more. Abo leads these ten and I don't like him. I think this place should have been taken over by the shop owner, Aro.
I went on pushing my brother's stroller crazily. At this time in the kindergarten playground, I always meet Mrs. Arous, the queen of fairy tales and kindness. When she smiles, her wrinkles remind me of “Tsilimon Tale” which my parents used to read to me at nights. I love Mrs. Arous a lot. Now she tells stories to other children but I don't know what kind of stories exactly- fairy tales or the adventures of Zorro.
“Car,” Moush pointed his finger.
Moush's voice wakes me up. I am at home, it's six o'clock . I am in the kitchen doing my homework for tomorrow. At least the books are spread on the table and this means I am supposed to learn. “Dad, tell Gevork to give the bicycle to me.”
“Hey, Tiko, I am counting to three and you are supposed to be home by the time I finish,” cried out aunt Nara .
“Sorry, but I am not coming, Mom.”
“Not coming?”
I looked back at my books. The pile was still on the table. The only difference was that it was eight o'clock now.
“Know what is waiting for you here at home, Tigran? Just come home, yeah, just come… ” I can't tell you much about my street. Perhaps you already figured out that I am too busy with my lessons all day long. I don't have time to go out or tell you a lot. I have much homework to do. I know we are going to move from this place soon and I am sure I'll be missing this boring and gloomy neighborhood.
Wrote at 14 years old age
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“Hello.”
“Hello, can I speak to Anie, please?”
“Hold on a moment, please,” a cold, unknown voice answered, which though did not know me, was waiting for my call.
Impatiently, I waited for this moment to pass.
At last:
“Anie is busy at the moment, can you call later?”
“OK, thanks.”
So, you did not want to talk to me, Anie. You found a new friend, didn’t you? But you should know that she can not be a real friend to you, because she is a gossip. You don’t need her gossip and don’t pay attention to her trickery. But a new friend is your problem, not mine. I will better do my homework.
Ten minutes passed. Shall I call again, I wondered.
“Hello.”
“Hello, excuse me, is Anie still busy?”
“Who’s speaking?”
“Please, tell her it’s Maneh.”
“One moment, please.”
I overheard her say:
“Annie, it’s Maneh.”
“Tell her, I will call her later,” her voice was so weak that I couldn’t tell if it was angry or not.
The voice of the unknown woman said to me:
“Mnaeh, Anie will call you later.”
I put down the phone, this time I felt different. OK, I understood her point. I had annoyed her. How silly she was. I remembered her angry look. This was the reason: when I was laughing with my other friends, she was talking behind my back. But if she were my closest friend, she would have answered my call. I was very sad today, I wanted you to encourage me and what did you do? You didn’t understand me.
An hour passed. I didn’t do my assignments. The phone rang. I answered sadly.
“Hello, Maneh I am sorry, but I was really busy. We bought new furniture, I was moving my things,” Anie said quickly and cheerfully.
Wrote at 15 years old age
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It was the first of March. The lessons were over and the girls were deciding the time to go to Anush’s. We were pleased not because it was the first of March, but because it was Anush’ birthday. And the most important thing was that there weren’t going to be any boys.
“OK, girls, I’ll be waiting for you at 2:00,” Anush said and left in a hurry, probably to set a table.
“Oh yeah, ” I though and smiled secretly.
Anna forgot about the party and didn’t get a present.
“Maneh, I don’t know where Anush lives, will you call me so that we go there together?”
Ani and I began to laugh so violently that we had to hold each other.
“Anna, don’t you know where Anush lives?” asked Ani laughing.
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re funny, aren’t you from our class?” I said, but then got serious and added: “Sure, I will call you and we’ll go there together.”
“Well, I better go,” said Anna and ran to manage to buy a present.
“It’s all the same, I got the best present,” – I though to myself.
Everybody left. It was 2:00 already; I got Anush’s present and was ready to leave.
“Maneh, aren’t you going to have lunch?” my mother asked.
“But Mom, I am going to a party.”
On my way I was thinking about delicious food I was going to eat and how I was going to dance, so I didn’t pay much attention to the spring.
Finally we were at Anush’s. We were talking with each other when Anush’s phone rang. The caller was Anna. I forgot about her. Now I had to go outside and meet her. For ten minutes Ani and I were standing on the street waiting for Anna.
“Maybe she is buying a present,” I said.
“I don’t know,” replied Ani.
Fifteen minutes passed. I was thinking how the girls were eating salads around the table; I was very hungry.
Another ten minutes passed. Then we saw a girl approaching.
“She looks like Anna,” I said.
“What are you talking about? She looks like a French girl,” replied Ani.
The French girl approached us, it was Anna. She was so beautiful; she had a new haircut, she was wearing pretty earrings and was walking and enjoying the spring.
“And we thought she was buying a present,” whispered Ani.
Finally, we were in front of the table. I was served the first.
“Anush, did you cook it?”
“No, my mom did.”
I was going to eat when I saw a hair in my plate. I didn’t eat. I sat silently and when I was asked why I would not eat I said I had a toast to propose.
After the toast I had to eat something.
“Anush, did you make that salad?”]
“No, my grandma did,” Ani replied with a smile.
“Sure, that is why there is a gray hair in it,” I muttered to myself.
Then I thought that probably her redhead aunt made a salad too. Everybody was eating and I had to propose more toasts. Everybody was tired of me and I was tired of toasts. I had to leave early because I had to go somewhere else.
“Thank you for wonderful food,” I made myself mutter and left.
Next day I found out that after I left they had an ice-cream. I was very glad I left before that. It would have been hard to look at how others eat ice-cream, since surely there would be a hair in my ice-cream.
Wrote at 15 years old age
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