Narineh Daneghyan's Stories
|
Our street is very noisy; it's full of all kinds of people who come here to eat barbecue. There are many restaurants on our street and it's normal to hear the drunks fight at night. There are often cases when the police arrive and take a guilty person to the police station.
The yard is on the other side of the street but I've only been there once. There are so many cars there that it is impossible to play.
Here there are neither old men playing backgammon, nor old women serving coffee to one another. I do not like my neighborhood, I feel like a stranger there.
In the neighborhood of my dreams, children will be busy with their games, and the old men playing backgammon. I wish there were many trees and flowers in our neighborhood. I wish the rustling of leaves were the only noises troubling people at night.
Wrote at 12 years old age
^ to Top
|
It was a warm autumn evening. The sunrays were filling my room through the open window, were playing with my hair, and were trying to seize the pen away from my hands. Go away you mischievous rays! I'm busy! I can't play with you today. I think, I must write about war. Well, you persuaded me. I will stand by the window for a while, will look at the white top of Massis, and will admire the autumn red and yellow of Hrazdan Gorge.
That's enough, I am going to write.
I cannot explain why I always think of “war” as the only antonym to the word “peace.” War and peace. People have fought for centuries, killed each other, destroyed developed cities, and brought to the ground all the miraculous buildings which were created once by people like them. Then they sign peace treaties and become joyous, after having made all around them suffer. Reconstruction has followed total destruction. People can rebuild houses but can they ever bring back to life their parents, sisters and brothers killed in wars?
“Nar, Nar. Please help me…”
It's Romanik, my younger brother. Here he is in front of me with his English book under his arms; with a pen, as always, in his mouth; with his round eyes looking at me.
“Come, let's see what we can do. Hurry, or else I will forget all I want to write about.”
See? I lost my train of thought. What was I writing about? Oh, yes it was peace…
One can, perhaps, restore and rebuild everything, but never human relations and lives. Where there are innocent victims there is always a bloody revenge. So, any kind of war should be put to an end if we want to see people around us.
“Nar, Nar, come. Be quick, there is a wedding over here. Look, there is no room for cars again. Look at how beautiful the bride is. Come, see the balloons. They are already high up in the sky.”
It is Rom again. He has climbed up the windowsill and is having fun.
“Rom, don't disturb me”.
I can hear a mix of melodies from outside; it's flooding my room. The music won't stop 'til the morning; the sounds of the people having a party won't let us sleep. What should we do? It's a holiday for them today. I close the window and try to concentrate. How can I convince people to stop fighting? How can I convince terrorists not to burst planes and take over theaters? What's to be done? Isn't it nice when the bright rays of the sun light up the blue sky? When the children make noise playing in the yard? When one can see colorful butterflies on flowers? I so like the noisy wedding party that is disturbing me. Maybe all the people should love each other. Their love should be so great that it doesn't leave any room for offense… Is it that hard to love people?
Wrote at 12 years old age
^ to Top
|
We were getting ready for the competition. I have already told you about that competition but if you don’t remember I can retell it one more time. A competition of the English language should occur between two teams at my school. I was the head of my team. We were getting ready for it almost every day. It was already spring so we decided to get ready in Gevorg’s garden. Gevorg was living in Kond. We reached there through the long way. When we reached to Gevorg’s house he showed us his dog. I told them that you can go without me, I won’t come.
To tell the truth I’m very afraid of dogs. Then everyone started to push me. And finally they made me enter Gevorg’s house. The place were the dog was living was closed with a stick and was near the house.
Then they told me to make the sentence “I have got a brother” negative and interrogative. I cried at that moment because Gevorg’s brother has opened the door of the dog. I don’t want to tell what had happened after that, but it was the last visit to Gevorg’s house.
Wrote at 11 years old age
^ to Top
|
I remember Grandpa telling me about a displaced family who had found refuge in their village years ago. The family was facing many difficulties. They had no house but did everything to make their living. The village children used to cry:
“Refugees! Refugees!!”
They didn't realize they were adding oil to the fire.
“We are not refugees, we have blankets and mattresses”, answered the youngest and ran to us with their fists tightly curled.
Wrote at 12 years old age
^ to Top
|
Hurrah, we are leaving at last. Where, you would ask. To my granny's of course. Why is she so happy about going there, you will wonder with good reason. It is because we don't have a yard where we can play. For long days we stay at home and going to granny's place is the only opportunity for us to play all kinds of games like hide-and-seek, tag or football.
We are always in a hurry when we know we are going to granny's. We call out, “Hey, mom, come on, let's go already! Romanik and I can share some chores. We'll help you around the house so we'll be able to leave sooner, mom!”
Here we are on our way to granny's, and here is our favorite yard. Wait just a minute, my friends will gather and we'll start the football match. Lena passes the ball to Romanik, and then it appears at my feet. A strong blow and the ball rolls into the yard of one of the houses. It missed the goal and, what is worse, it went into in the yard surrounded by tall stone walls. You may not believe this but it is not the most awful thing. There was no one in the house at the moment and we had no idea of how to free the poor ball from captivity.
We built a queue and started climbing the wall one by one. Nothing came out. The children went home in despair, only Romanik and I stayed. I put a large stone under my feet, stepped on it, and held Romanik high above my head so that he could climb the wall. I wasn't thinking of the possible consequences and how he would return. Suddenly I heard mom yelling in a scared voice, “Narineh, what are you doing?” My feet trembled, and both of us fell to the ground. We were happy to escape serious injury.
Then a boy nicknamed Cup freed the captive ball.
This is my story.
Wrote at 10 years old age
^ to Top
|
My aunt has a puppy. His name is Chapie.
I’m afraid of the puppy. They tie up Chapie every time I visit them. He starts whining and tries to free himself from the chain. I pity him very much but can’t make myself go up to him; I just throw him a piece of sausage and run away.
Wrote at 9 years old age
^ to Top
|
“Skipping that failed” (The school)
I have heard about skipping classes many, many times. All the people who have ever skipped say that they always exercise a kind of excitement either in the corridor or at the school exit. There is always a fear of being caught by the teacher; the heart always thumps, the conscience always tells you to turn back, to listen to the teacher.
At the same time there comes the childish self-persuasion not to listen to the conscience and run away, go home because everything is going to be fine.
I want to feel all these things myself and one day I had the opportunity to try.
“We are skipping today, guys,” said Ann.
“Which class?” Karen asked.
“Russian.”
“Are you sure everybody’s ready to do this? Last time we had problems with some student refusing to join the whole class.”
“This time is for sure.”
“What shall we do with the register?” I asked.
“I will take it to the teachers’ room.”
“And what will you say?”
“I will say something, don’t worry.”
“Like what?”
“Well…”
“We better leave the register here, in the classroom. We can hide it in the book case.”
“Then, who will come to take the register?”
“I will, I have some studies later.”
The bell rang. It was the history class. Although it was warm in the classroom, we had already put on our coats, hats and gloves, not to lose time on dressing during the break. I forgot to tell you that our rucksacks were ready too. We passed forty minutes dressed in warm clothes waiting for the bell. At last…It took us a second to leave. There were still some students who were getting ready. We were encouraging them to hurry. Finally everyone was ready. We were standing at the staircase- the most dangerous place from where the teacher could see us easily. We decided to leave in small groups.
At last we were out, in the schoolyard. We hurried not to leave place for hesitation, but…
“And if they get really angry with us?”
“I am leaving, you do what you want,” I said angrily.
Who could ever imagine that there would be those ready to decline at the very last moment. Everyone went back, and I had nothing left to do but follow the rest.
This happens every day. I decide to skip but always change my mind. I cannot explain this. But I will run away tomorrow for sure, even alone. I hope I would not change my
mind.
Wrote at 13 years old age
^ to Top
|
“Future! Hey, Future! What's going on on this street? Where is this noise coming from?”
I don’t like it when people make noise. I prefer silence. That is the reason why I have chosen this very house, which is right at the crossing of SILENCE and CALMNESS streets. Nearly nothing happens here. The houses are noise protected. Everything is noise protected in this quarter, even trees and parks. I have always dreamt of a place like this. Now things have changed.
“Future! Hey, Future!”
Future is approaching me at a slow pace. It is my friend, my robot, my assistant.
“What happened, Future?”
“Don’t worry…although it's really strange. Grass and a flower called a violet have grown in one of the gardens near here. People are hurrying to see the marvel. So, that is why it is very noisy.”
“What you're saying doesn’t make any sense at all. Grass, flowers, soil… they disappeared hundreds of years ago. We only learn about these things from textbooks.”
Soon my friend’s excited face appeared on the computer screen.
“Have you heard already?”
“I have…”
“You live near the place where these things are happening. You can send Future to fetch the grass, the flower and the soil. People from the institute will surely come to destroy these things. We must hurry. ..You'll be able to protect them in your house.”
“Suppose, Future went there. How can it steal the grass, flower and soil? How can it escape so many people? … We’ll see… ”
I sat nervously in the armchair.
“What do you think, Future?”
“I will try.”
Future went out. I approached the window and saw people walking back…maybe the plant extinguisher brigade had already arrived. I was impatient waiting for Future to come back. I was so worried they would catch him. It was better not think about him at all….They'd make me pay taxes for breaking the law and what's worse they'll take Future, MY Future, to the extermination institute.
“Come on, where are you Future, my dear friend?”
I could see Future’s face. He was asking for help. Maybe he had run out of batteries…poor Future… What can be done? My friend is in need… I can’t call Robot Repairs Booth… I will help you, just wait a bit. I am coming.
I went downstairs, took Future in my hands and hurried on since I could hear the voices of exterminators approaching.
“Great, you did it! Now, wait a bit…wait dear. I will change your batteries…”
Future’s eyes sparkled; he held the flower, grass and a handful of soil in his iron palm.
In a minute we were back at home. I sat delighted and happy in my armchair and stared at the violet and the green grass. It's so great that we could save this MARVEL.
Tomorrow people will be discussing the strange disappearance.
“This victory needs a mention. What do you think Future?”
Wrote at 12 years old age
^ to Top
|
“Guys, let’s skip classes today,” said Edward.
“No, it is not a good idea,” I said.
“We better lock the door,” said Karen.
“Let’s do it, if you want it so much,” said Felix.
“What if they get angry,” said Ann fearfully.
“We can say the lock got broken,” said Felix.
“Right, because it is old,” I said inspired.
“We better leave some of the pupils outside the class. That would be more convincing.”
“We will do that.”
“Guys, if you want to eat something do it now, because we won’t be able to do it after.”
Everybody left the class. The bell rang.
“How much time is left?” I asked Felix.
“Seven minutes.”
Seven minutes passed. The bell rang again.
“Where is the key?”
“Here.”
“Give it to me. Gevorg, Anna, Susik go outside.”
Arthur opened the door and Gevorg, Anna and Susik went out. Arthur closed the door.
Somebody began to move the doorknob from the other side. We all knew what to do. We began to cry that the door had been locked. Few minutes passed. We couldn’t keep the door closed anymore, so we had to open it. The teacher entered the class. Her face was red with anger.
“If you think you can get away with it, you are wrong.”
And she began the class.
“Felo?”
“I haven’t repeated the lesson yet.”
“Ann?”
“I went to the doctor and didn’t have time to study.”
“Samvel?”
“I am not ready.”
“Everybody gets an F. I am very hurt. Do you understand that each time you do something bad a nerve cell dies in me?”
The children laughed. The bell rang. And so we went home with bad marks but still happy, admiring the spring on the way.
Wrote at 13 years old age
^ to Top
|
Children's Pages
| Old Sites
| Donations
Newspaper |
Narineh Daneghyan's Page