Back Look to the Truth Razmik Markosyan

[Yervant1]

Back Look to the Truth

 

00:05, December 21, 2012

 

http://hetq.am/eng/articles/21742/back-look-to-the-truth.html

Razmik Markosyan

 

There are people whose life sounds as genius speech. Blessed are those

who stand near and listen to them. Blessed are those who witness as

the life of such people is incredible, and their uniqueness is

indescribable as a privilege granted by God. These people live as

geniuses. They are never wrong. Their slips are directed at a certain

target. They can only slip up and retreat only to the truth.

 

* * *

 

I know one of them. What bliss... I was the witness not only of his

unique lifestyle, but also I was his brother and best friend. I would

like to emphasize our friendship, because for my brother all kinds of

relations were incomplete, if they were not intertwined with

friendship.

 

Onik was my parents' eldest son, and I was the junior. Our family was

large, and there was a difference of 14 years between us. It took long

time for us to break the age barrier and for my brother to lend me a

hand of companionship. Before that I was the spectator of his

remarkable life. Frankly speaking, the age did not matter; he was in

the center of everyone's attention, including my parents. Their

attitude towards my brother was a little bit unusual: the respect was

above all feelings.

 

Onik's word was the unwritten law in our home. He was our protector,

the firmness of our castle and the easiness of our conscience. He was

like a light; he cared for all of us, and everything was going smooth.

 

Wherever he was, he dominated over the situation but not on his own

will; he was appointed. He would not tolerate mistakes; he both won

and was defeated, he liked to put everything in their places. People

around him always tried to find what they were seeking.

 

I was impressed in my teenage years when I was present at some

meetings held in our house that step by step were formulating me as an

individual. My brother's eyes would secretly watch me attentively

listening to the courageous speech of slightly drunk Paruyr Sevak,

interesting stories of Vahan Mirakyan, and the humor of Edmon

Keosayan. Some of my brother's friends now stand by me; from the rest

I remember a collective image of a unique, wise and creative person.

 

Accompanying his friends after those warm and exciting evenings, he

would call me, seat next to him, putting his hand on my shoulder, and

forgetting his strict, a little bit parental behavior, would ask me

innocent questions and give wise advices. `Choose a right path in your

life. Choosing your path you choose your destiny'.

 

Usually people do enjoy doing a kind act. My brother did not live a

day without doing something good but whatever he did he considered his

duty. I remember how he was concerned about Sevak's house in

Chanakhchi village that was too far from the road. It was difficult to

get to the remote part of the village both for the villagers and

guests. The solution to this problem seemed impossible. But my brother

found the way. The road was built stretching from the left side of the

highway to the end of the village. The houses far from the old road

became the nearest to the new one. Today, that same road leads us to

our favourite poet's house that became a unique sanctuary.

 

Thus, thousands of hardships and difficulties were overcome due to his

friends. No doubt, he was really very happy for all that, but it was

happiness of a friend, not the triumph of a benefactor.

 

It was my elder brother's life. He would not stand undesirable

situations or unsolved problems as if he were born to overcome the

difficulties.

 

But then came a day, when my brother was obliged to be present at a

trial. And I was sitting on the dock as a political criminal. It was

awful scene for my relatives. As usual, everybody was looking at Onik.

My activity, however fair and lawful, was defined as a violation

against the Soviet state system and the court set a punishment:

four-year arrest of strict regime and two-year exile.

 

Some time after the trial I was exiled with sensitive companionship of

KGB. I was far from everything that was dear for me: my country, our

home and yard, the busybody elders of my family and the careless

youngest ones, and my brother with clever and bright eyes.

 

I was taken to Mordovia. In that stage of my life I became

25-years-old. On that day, probably, my family members were sometimes

grieving, and sometimes console each other. I could imagine all of

them, one by one, except for Onik. I knew that nobody and nothing

could help me, that's why I could not imagine him.

 

The prison system never kept the political prisoners in the same place

for a long time. I was always taken from one camp to another. From

Mordovia I was taken to Ural, from Ural toKazakhstan, then to

Mangishlak, and in all my `temporary shelters' Onik tried to visit me

but he rarely could manage as the system punished me by depriving of

visits. Sometimes I could get only two-hours appointment instead of

two-day visit. In such cases I refused myself taking into

consideration the distance and other difficulties.

 

 

Two days would it be or two hours, our meetings passed as two minutes.

During those minutes, exhausted and depressed but filled with

surprising passion, I was telling my brother the motives and goals of

my struggle hoping that he would support me with his uprightness. I

need his ideological support and I was sure that he couldn't refuse.

But every time I was surprised and saddened to see that my brother

opposed to me. At times he inspired me, at times claimed to give up

and refuse struggling. But I took the lesson of virility from my

brother, a man of principles, so I would never retreat. Me, who even

never dared to smoke at his presence, even being allowed to, me was

arguing with him about Soviet anti-national policy and our national

identity. I was trying to prove to my brother that the criminals were

those who accused me. The proof was the fact that I was deprived of

liberty because I demanded to respect the USSR Constitution which gave

all nations the right to freely secede from the Union as well as the

right to freely join theUnion, but the second law was strongly

advocated though having the same force of law as the first one. And

this fact was the testimony to that I was accused unfairly... Our

historical past was present in each day of our life, and our present

life for me was as historical as the past.

 

Thus, the meeting with me was over, but our relatives inYerevanwere

waiting for my brother with their hopeless gaze to the unknown future...

 

Shortly after my imprisonment KGB began putting pressure on my family.

Soviet security system was expert in finding exact targets. The first

target was my brother; he was transferred from the position of the

general director of the Union factory to another job (by profession my

brother was pilot, economist, engineer and worked in the exact

electrical plant). My sister, the author of many books, dictionaries,

numerous translations, who lectured at the Pedagogical Institute, was

fired without any explanation. Even thousands of years after 1937, the

country of hammer and sickle must beware of its citizens able to think

and their relationship with the public.

 

Days in prison were passing hard leaving their heavy impact on

everything. My mind was concentrated on the constantly changing

distorted image of the time. Sometimes, the time seemed as stony as

ice and the seconds seemed hours. The passing day sometimes seemed to

be melted into the past, moving backwards. However, despite of my

thoughts and feelings, the years were passing, and my arrest was

approaching to end. Only ten days was left before my return, and my

thoughts lead me to my home: I was trying to catch up with the real

time to feel the lawful privilege of being free, when suddenly I was

accused of the attempt to escape, and my case was handed over to the

court. Even with total absence of corpus delicti, I was again

sentenced. The trial performed by professional jugglers of KGB made

the verdict to extend my punishment by 3 years. This was a final shock

for me and my relatives

 

And my brother... When I saw him after the trial, amazingly he was no

longer tensed as before. He looked at me as if he had retreated and

said, `I always wanted to tell you something, never give up your

struggle'. I was thunderstruck. Looking at his eyes I understood

suddenly that during all these years he had been struggling against my

ideas only for my welfare. As a relative of a person sentencing

himself to death, my brother tried to keep me back from my decision.

He spared no effort to convince me that I chose the wrong way, that

there were other ways of manifestation of patriotism. All for me, so

that I wouldn't be lost in the clutches of the sanguineous eyed

monster that was keeping the destiny of people in his hand. But the

game was over, and the loser was the game itself. Simply, the

monster's power could not be fully estimated. And now, he was looking

at me, my brother, my friend whose slips were directed at a certain

target, who both won and was defeated, who liked to put everything in

their places. He was looking at me trying to hide the difficulty of

laying down weapons and watching your brother throwing himself into

the fire.

 

* * *

 

Today, people are more likely to believe in the end of the world than

in the collapse ofSoviet Unionin those years. But theUSSRwas collapsed

because had been fed with the blood of its own citizens. The

sanguineous eyed monster was crashed down. I am sure thatSoviet

Unionwas collapsed because my brother, though having great desire,

could not fulfill the role of its defendant because he could not stand

the morality of the system. My brother would never undertake that

role. That role was the greatest self-sacrifice in his life which was

not changed in the course of matters.

 

That night I fell asleep and saw my brother in my dream. He called me,

seat next to him, put his friendly hand on my shoulder as he used to

do, and said, `I always wanted to tell you: choose a right path in

your life. Choosing your path you choose your destiny'.

 

Many years have passed since then. Now there is a barrier of life and

immortality between us: almost the same age difference, but now I am

the elder. Now I tell him, `My dear brother, how great was the ransom

that you paid for me. Although I did not accept it, I thought I would

have done the same if I were you. I am sure that even you would have

chosen the same path as a destiny if you were me. But we cannot choose

our roles in life. They are defined intrinsically. And, I always

wanted to tell you something: how glorious you lived on earth'.