Between two mountains

His father used to phone him every day, watching his every step. He didn’t want him to go to India as a tourist, but the first secretary wouldn’t offer India trip just to anyone – “No, I am obliged to send my son to India if the first secretary offers. I can’t object to him. I would let him go” – he said.

Yes, if it wasn’t for the first secretary he wouldn’t be able to travel to India….

***

…In Delhi they were placed in a “Holiday I

The guide was a girl – as if she was carved out of an ivory. She was like a Sirius* which was described and glorified in the classic Indian poetry. Her eyes resembled the eyes of the Goddess Varuna*. She could speak Russian very fluently with sweet Indian pronounciation. When she was opening her lips and speaking the student of the Law Department of Moscow State University named after Lomonosov , Masud Inbrahimzade thought she was singing a song. As if Masud was dreaming. A fear was emerging in his heart to wake up from this dream. He desired to live in this dream for all his life. But each dream has its ending. He didn’t have choice – it is called a love from the first sight. He didn’t know the reason why he similized this girl to a Goddess Varuna. The girl also did not stay indifferent to this tall guy….Maybe invisible spirits of Jahan Shah and Mumtaz Mahal, that were soaring above the Taj -Mahal palace blessed this love. Right there, in front of this love temple the girl told him her name:

–Kaushari.

–Masud.

India…The paradise on Earth….The country of contrasts. ..The stream of people of Delhi…Rosy city of Jaypur. The magnificent castle of Amber. Fascinating Agra. Romantic love city with five beautiful lakes one better than the other, “the Venice of India”– Udaypur. The old city of Jaysalmer, with narrow streets and charming palaces. The palace of Hava Mahal. The magnificent banks of Gang…Travelling to all these places accompanied by the girl with whom he fell in love at first sight made all these beauty become engraved in his mind forever.

As it is said in the Indian Vedas the life is itself like a dream. When they were separating the girl was moved to tears. Masud told her: – Wait for me, wait for me in any case – his voice broke.

Kaushari:

– 

I am “A mountain between two worlds.”*

I shall wait for you. Take, this is my mother’s gift for you.

– 

There is no need for it.

– 

It is

Surabkhi -

the girl smiled.

It seemed to Masud that only the girl who love comes from the heart can smile like this and he believed that she would wait for him.

***

* Sirius- a tree from the family of bamboo that blossoms white

* Varuna- the Goddess of water

* “A mountain between two worlds”-According to the belief of Indians the world is surrounded with mountains. These mountains are like the borders between the Earth and the unseen world of beyond. When the sun is inside the chains of mountain it lightens one side of the mountains, when it exits it lightens the other side of the mountains.

* Surabkhi- a mythical figure of a cow which is able to fulfill all the wishes

It would have been better if he didn’t study in Moscow at all. If he studied in his own city everything would be different. His diligent studies and afterwards diligent working brought disaster upon him… He was always appointed to the most difficult tasks and was never appreciated. Since that time there were those who envied him.

Unlike other students he didn’t have expensive fur coat or a fashionable cloak. He always wore shoes made at factory named after Volodarskiy, shirts made at Baku sewing factory or clothes made at Moscow “Proletarka” factory. But whatever he wore suited him well. Everybody thought he was wearing world’s most expensive clothes.

His heart started beating faster. Maybe his blood pressure went too high. He moved towards the telephone. He didn’t have any other way out except to call first aid. His blood pressure had to be measured, or he would again be stuck between life and death as previous time when he took medicine without measuring his blood pressure. Falling of his blood pressure would again drive him nuts. Maybe he should wait for some time, maybe blood pressure would fall. Or the neighbors would see the ambulance and would worry what has happened to him. As soon as he retired on a pension his health got worse. What does this supposed to mean? As soon as any of my colleagues retires he either gets a heart attack or passes away – he touched wood superstitiously – God forbids! Oh Lord, please help me…

He looked at the telephone. Whom else to phone? Who else did he have…He has a sister, but he isn’t in good relations with her. Numerous times she complained to him that despite the fact he works in such a place like Ministry of Interior he wouldn’t assist to find an employment for neither one of her sons. “If you really wanted you would do it” – she reckoned. When he felt that he is unable to explain he stopped calling her. Neither did she. Is there anybody else? He himself used to phone her only on holidays. Is there anyone out of his friends? One guy, Alibala, who worked in a little national cuisine restaurant near the Ministry, used to phone him sometimes asking about his health. He used to invite him over and he would visit him, eat some national meals with 50 gram of vodka. Alibala used to tell him about Samara city where he spent his youth years, and he used to talk about India. For the last time Alibala called him saying that representatives from Taxes Department came over and want to close the place. He asked if Masud could give a phone call to someone from Taxes. But in return, Masud told him that they don’t listen to anyone. Who am I for them? Since that day Alibala didn’t call anymore. Probably the restaurant got closed or maybe he isn’t in the city, he has left to Samara.

His blood pressure will fall by the time ambulance comes. Maybe not to call at all? His neighbors who never greeted him would ask about his health, “What happened to you, mister Masud?”… As if a policeman can never get ill.

Recently he feels better when outdoors. He decided to try to go out to see what happens.

Masud leaned his right hand on the wall and went forward in the corridor. He opened the door and went towards the stairs. He remembered that he didn’t lock the door with the key. What is there in his room except broken and old furniture … He returned back, locked the door with the key and went to stairs, went out of the bloc, but thought that it was not interesting to walk in the yard where there was no place because of the cars. It would be better to go behind the building. At least there are some trees left. Staggering he went behind of the building. He reached the grove and stood for a moment. He tried to breathe deeply; his heart was beating faster than before. Here he had to lean on to the building in order not to fall, but they wouldn’t understand him if he did so. It is better to go towards the trees. He took some steps forward, but seeing trash cans lined up in a row in the grove, he felt upset. He had to lean against something; he had to hold on to something. Somehow he approached a tree. Though there was a smell coming from the trash cans he leaned against a tree and breathed the smell of acacia trees mixed with the smell of trash.

How nice the wind wasn’t blowing. As if recently Baku wind has also changed, as if it felt hatred to everybody… While driving in the bus the wind brings the dust of newly built buildings and passengers in the bus are covered with dust. As if the wind was saying to people why they hide themselves in the buildings built in disorder. Do you deceive me or yourselves? The wind didn’t let the persons like Masud to feel comfortable even in the buses. As if it asked them whether they considered themselves so smart. Maybe the drivers who stopped hectically even in narrow streets or the passengers who reached out their hands to stop the buses act rightly? May be you live your lives same way you get into buses? My God! The wind was speaking to him so roughly…

He had a fit of coughing; he sat down on the ground. When he felt a bit better he stood up, but he was scared. By the other side of trash cans two persons dressed in shreds and tatters were rummaging sweepings of food, empty bottles and put them into their sacs. His started coughing again. The two persons heard the sounds of his coughing stopped rummaging and looked at him. The older one nudged his friend and took steps back from the trash can. His friend understood nothing, and stopped rummaging, went back. At any case they were homeless. The homeless vagrants who lived in the account of sweepings of food they gathered from the trash cans. Their faces looked bluish. They even had traces resembling the color of moldy bread.

Suddenly the older vagrant said without moving:

– How do you do, mister Masud? Do you need anything? We are leaving now, we shan’t return here anymore.

He was surprised seeing that the old vagrant knew him. – Do you know me?

The old vagrant had a puzzled look, he combed his dirty hair with his hand, said: – Well, when we came here yesterday, – he showed the second floor, a woman shouted at us: – “What are you doing there? We can hardly sit at home because of the stink”. You were passing near by. She pointed at you and said: – “See, mister Masud is coming. He is a policeman. I will tell him and he will take you away”. Mister Masud, we left this place yesterday. Today we decided to come here for the last time until we find some new litter-boxes. Now we are leaving.

He didn’t know what to say to them. He looked towards the porch and window of the second floor where as the old vagrant told him the woman lived.

He turned to that vagrant and said: – That woman is mistaken. I am not a policeman anymore. I have retired. The old vagrant made a circle around the litter-boxes and ran towards the back of the building with electric generator. He brought a chair from there; without doubt he got it from the litter-boxes. – “Sit down, mister Masud! Don’t stand on feet!” Then he looked at his younger pal. – Let’s go, the woman from the second floor will shout at us. We must leave this place. Mister Masud, we are at your service. We won’t come here anymore. My name is Huseyn, his name is Fateh, he is Tatar” – he said and was going to leave.

The captain breathed deeply. His heart wasn’t beating fast as it did awhile ago. He felt hale and stood up. He felt better.

–Where are you headed now? – He asked Huseyn.

–Mister Masud, today we have gathered only a few bottles. We can’t buy even a small bottle of vodka. We shall see what the day has prepared for us after this

– He said

–Okay, leave the bag in your hand, and follow me. – He leaned the chair on the acacia tree. – Let the chair remain in here, let’s go.

Huseyn was perplexed – Mister Masud, please don’t take us to police office. We are leaving now.

–Come on, I told you, I have retired on a pension. We are going to my place, follow me.

***