The bus was blowing like a tired horse climbing up a mountain. The faces of all the passengers were unknown and incomprehensible. Arti was unfamiliar and unusual for them. It's been two years since the bad times. He had been able to overcome past difficulties and was now in love with another woman who in turn fell in love with another ... an irony of the fate.
Fields, mountains, shady rocks. Is Spring awakening in these mountains or is it the end of Spring, you never understand anything here. But why is Spring here too late, and when will it say goodbye and leave its place to Summer? Perhaps it is because the terrain here is very mountainous, and Spring is still in its rights.
In short, it was the end of May, and the next day would be the first day of Summer.
The bus was rising and mounting, and the cool and fresh air of the mountain air was felt. What could be more pleasing and enjoyable? The sun was shining, and was staring out of the window through the sun glasses. The images were constantly changing and fleeing in front of his eyes: people, cars, animals, mountains, hills, flowers, meadows, rivers
* * *
Everything was green, quiet and peaceful. He looked at the wonders of nature without tiredness, without blinking an eye.
Suddenly a naked grassland appeared in his field of vision, the green disappeared, nothing out of the window was visible except stone and soil. This was already a tiring scene. He pulled out the fresh magazine that received yesterday. There were still two hours to get there, were he would stay on his business trip for seven days.
And there was an important meeting with Her. Two days later She would go by train to these places, and He could meet Her and rejoice that meeting.
Slowly he was browsing the magazine, reading some pages, focusing on the things he was interested in, and the journey was not over: Villages, trees, people, livestock, cross roads ... Crooked and changing, cross roads. Once going down the mountains, seeming to go downhill into the dark valley, and once going up the mountain, flying over the blue sky ...
Roads, roads, roads that split many of us, but also merge many. And this road took Her away from Him, and He began to miss Her, feeling some cold emptiness slowly penetrating his soul. Maybe it is because Sati will pass these places in two days and go on much-more further.
Remembering that story, he suddenly felt alone and helpless. And since he is a person difficult to communicate with, he was not able to catch a "conversation" with the passengers to dispel the melancholy.
Villages again, stops, new passengers, farewell words to old passengers.
Here the bus moves down the steep slope to the bottom of which is a small regional center/city, where He was delegated with a task to solve specific technical problems at the new factory.
Trees and flowers are no longer visible. The surrounding space is empty, gloomy and sad. The smell of mountain cold air is felt; the light wind is playing with his hair. Hello, hello Life, we are living. It's a seven-day business trip, and He needs to get everything done, complete the task on time, and return to the factory with a pride.
The bus slowed down, stopped, Arti paid the ticket, got off the bus, put the little suitcase on the side of the road. The suitcase was full of the necessary hygiene supplies, clothes, engineering drawings and small electrical measuring devices. He turned around, went back and forward and looked at the direction where the bus had recently taken him.
Why this rural nature so strongly impressed him? Perhaps because he spent his childhood and youth in the village leaving his first beloved girl for the first time, or because the day was gloomy and rainy? Probably because of all these at the same time. But personal sentiment should not dominate the course of affairs; he was on business trip and must quickly set up testing and measuring equipment - the magnetic amplifiers, adjusting their parameters to the specified, standard ones.
And who invented this magnetic amplifiers, and who planned to setup a production at this remote rural plant? Factory in the village, in these deaf places? It's funny. He knew and imagined where he was going for this trip, but even happily agreed, as he was going to be away from a "lukewarm" urban life, strong factory noise and hard, tense work for a week. He will work hard here as well, but in a free and relaxed environment of course.
Avoiding confused thoughts, he put on sunglasses, took the small travel suitcase, and walked towards the building, shown by one of the locals, where the experimental plant was located.
A young man approached him in front of the building, seemed he have seen him earlier, somewhere. Guessing who the newcomer was, the young man greeted him enthusiastically. He had probably graduated from the same engineering university a couple of years earlier, and it turns out that he was the Chief Engineer of that plant.
They shook hands, though they did not know each other closely and just now became associates. The Chief Engineer was surprised that only one specialist was delegated to help them with so many tasks.
"Let's go to the office and see what’s up," suggested the Chief.
The office was very modest and simple, open and bright, not even a finery of luxury, no big table surrounded with lots of chairs, no pens, no color pencils, no phones, and no much needed a office accessories.
In one corner of the room was a simple work desk, several folders on it, a folding calendar, a few chairs around it, and a telephone. In the center of the room was a drawing board, with the young man standing in deep thoughts and drawing on a large-format paper.
"Firstly, we have to deal with your housing issues," the Chief said, sitting down on his chair and offering Arti a chair.
"Of course, after a long journey, there is a need to take a little rest," Arti replied, settling the heavy chair he was offered.
"Yes we will do it immediately, although we are located in a rural region, but the conditions are not so bad," the Chief continued.
"Well, a week is not so long time, I can deal with it," Arti replied.
"But will you manage to complete the task within one week, alone?"
-I will do my best,- answered Arti
- Yes, of course, it depends on how you will organize the work. I'll be of little help to you. The factory is newly established, and there are lots of things to do, we have to start production this month, and there are almost no specialists.
- I have already installed such a test equipment in our factory, their work is familiar to me, and here I will finish the job quickly, if only the wiring is not implemented with bugs.
The Chief smiled and looked at him with amazement.
-What type of wiring? We should do it with your help.
-Not even the wiring?
"Of course, we all have to start from a scratch.
"Yes ..." Arti said. "If I had known, I would have invited an assembling specialist.
For a moment he decided to send everything and everyone to hell, return back and report on this issue, but later he thought, that he could only make a mess. Further on he thought, that he would try to fix the problem on his own.
The Chief engineer, ignoring Arti's disappointment and worry, continued in a calm tone.
-We will provide you the workforce you need, only please manage them well, and if difficulties arise, contact me immediately.
Arti made his decision to start installing, fixing, wiring the equipment, and then the adjustment process would be more clear.
Completing his initial contact with the case and finding out the approximate picture of the actions, Arti said goodbye to the Chief, took his suitcase and went to the hotel where a room was reserved for him.
The hotel was a small, two-store house with several rooms, a bathroom and administrator's office, where his documents were quickly formulated and he received the key of his living-room. Later he "climbed" to the second floor, entered his room, dropped the suitcase, sat on the bed, took a deep breath, and assessed the situation where he was and what he was going to do.
In the middle of the room was a regular rectangular table, covered with a white tablecloth, blown up on the edges, with a glass plate on it, with an old-fashioned water bowl, with two simple cups, and a glass ashtray on a corner of the table. There were two chairs at the table.
Awakened from mixed thoughts, Arti removed the cigarette case, picked up the roll, put it between his lips, and lit the match.
Now he was alone, and when he was alone he was finding his comfort in a pen, pencil, paper (writing) or tobacco. He laid down on the bed and looked up at the drops of a rainwater on the white ceiling. The blue, creasing smoke of the cigarette was rising and disappearing into the silence of the room.
“Factory, what kind of factory is this, just one workshop, and a small one? It is not comparable to our factory workshops. But it is cleaner, nicer than ours. The preparations, wrapping, coating, drying workshops are all in one area, and the magnetic amplifier assembling workshop is the largest, occupying half of the total area, and in one corner they must also place the test equipment,” thought to himself. Then he sat down, pulled out all the necessary documents, charts, instructions, descriptions from the suitcase, stuck in a corner of the table, and started preparations for tomorrow's work.
* * *
The next day, with the factory's Chief Engineer, Director, and chubby mechanic, who was a cheerful, energetic, courageous man, they decided - what, where and how to install.
The complex system of testing and control equipment consisted of five parts: the main control panel; separate measuring panels; loading panels; active-induction composite electrical loads and two combined motor generators.
An hour later, the preliminary work on the installation of equipment started: digging trenches for the pipes through which the power cables were passing, installing ring fence to avoid prohibited entrance and to ensure high-voltage safety, concreting the squares needed for installation, preparation of electrical installation work and etc.
The work started moving forward.
"All the workers will help you, but the specialists are few. We only have one electrician - master Sam, and he will mostly work with you, but when necessary, we may take him away from your team temporarily," said the Chief with a tricky smile.
Master Sam was a 40-45 years old, a hardworking and duteous man. He looked like a Ukrainian, but his eyes and hair were black like Armenians have. He was always smiling. After getting to know his newcomer colleague, he said with a smile.
- Should we work together? I've worked with many people coming from the capital city, but we got very close with one of them, that young man surprised me a lot, and we became good friends.
During the work, master Sam was often getting up, straightening his back with the words:
- Yeah, I'm a little tired ...
"If everybody will work like he," Arti was thinking.
They soon became friends and helped each other a lot. Arti was cutting the wires according to the set standard-sizes, sorting them separately, stretching, straightening, measuring the electrical parameters of the equipment.
After three days the main units were already installed and electrically connected to each other.
Each time, when Arti was back to hotel in the late evening and was alone, he was summarizing the work of that day, and working out the to do list for the next day, filling enthusiastic to start the next day a new momentum.
* * *
On that day, it was even necessary to send people back to the capital city to bring the missing and necessary cables. Often the necessary spare parts, accessories, and equipment were not available, that slowed down the process. It was happening that in half a day, a transformer was being hardly repaired, which was out of order due to unsafe transportation. It was already the third day, a lot of work was done, but still a much work was to be completed.
After two days, Arti left the hotel in the district where life was very boring, as he was alone there, and moved to another hotel near the city “G”. In the morning, from this new location, he was joining the Director, Chief Engineer, and Chief Mechanic with their car and arriving to the factory, and returning back to the city with them in the evening. They were living also in the city “G” and fully agreed with his decision to move.
At the old car's steering wheel was mostly the Chief Mechanic, and sometimes the Director. The Chief Engineer was probably not trusted yet; he was very young. They often were telling interesting stories and anecdotes. The atmosphere was quite friendly. To tell the truth, Arti was rarely interfering their conversation, and often was not interested in the discussed topic. But when he suddenly was trying to join the conversation, all three of them where keeping silent and waiting for some news to come from the capital city, and at that moment Arti usually was being confused and forgetting what he was going to tell.
* * *
In his new hotel room, Arti was also alone, and nobody could disturb him. That day he went into the room, changed his outdoor clothes and fall down on the sofa. Different thoughts, memories, dreams disturbed his brain. Suddenly, he remembered about the promised letter to Sati. Then he jumped out, sat down at the table, picked up the pen, and start writing.
"Sati, don't think I forgot to reply to your letter. Today I thought a lot and realized that I could not forget about our meeting for a long time. This is an unhappy place for me without you here, especially now, that I feel how strong and hopeless my love is. But what is the love? What a feeling is it, that so strongly occupies my being? Love is first of all a disease, a contradiction, happiness, sadness, jealousy, joy, hopelessness, dream, struggle, defeat, victory. Now a strong feeling, a powerful wave rises in my throat, squeezes it, and it seems to choke me. My brain is in a fever and it is crushed. I want to even cry out of this helplessness. Am I so sad without you? Can anyone else make me feel the same as you did? You didn't want to understand me. Will my love die? After all, I love you for nothing, and you went to meet your beloved one. All of this is horrible. I don't want, that your smile, your hilarious, ringing laugh, to belong to anyone else. I want them to be mine and belong only to me. Your crying, laughing, smiling, playful black eyes are killing my soul.
Ah, your crazy cry at the rail station where we met. And how shocking your cry was! I was shaken and felt the whole elegance of LIFE. Your hands should not touch other hands. No one has the right to kiss your lips. Oh, your eyes, how they looked at me. And why do you love someone else, why, my Sati?
Now I am alone in this hotel room, my window shows the reddish-blue clouds of the sunset, looking at the earth peacefully and calmly, while the radio is broadcasting a sad tune.
I have read several times, the letter that you handed to me within our meeting at the “G” city's railway station. I often think of not communicating, not talking to you, leaving all this behind and forgetting you, but I can't. You love someone else, you gave your heart to him, and what happens next? I want you to study at the university you are striving for, and I don't want to break up with you, to end our friendship that will be hard thing for you, and our courses will be cut short. I don't know why; it seems to me that you'll love me later. Sometimes the love wakes up step by step. Respect, closeness, understanding, faith, coincidence of ideas, only the devil knows what else, one beautiful day can be transformed into true LOVE. Love encompasses everything: madness, passion, kisses, separation, jealousy, excitement, disappointment, even disgust.
Whatever one acquires in a difficult way - is precious and valuable to him. You can easily lose what you get easier. I can't reconcile with the idea, that you don't love me, when I love you infinitely. You love someone else, but you make a friendship with me. Why do I want to dance only with you, but you may dance with any man you want? The nights during which I was lucky enough to be with you and also dance with you still remain unforgettable, like blue nights, even though they were black-and-white. Only with you, only with you, I want to be and live only with you, my Sati. "
The chaotic thoughts were overwhelming his soul, and he was filling the white pages of his notebook, to disperse them. Now his thoughts were flying in a completely different direction. He was thinking about colorful flowers - red, blue, purple ... He was thinking about what chemical and physical effects do they have on the human brain, he was also thinking about molecules that break out of their mother-flower material, enter our nostrils, create a sense of smell that makes us to love these flowers. The color of flowers affects our eyes. Why do they like some colors and some don't? He loves blue. The same can be told about the flowery aroma, especially Sati's one.
He was in the midst of this reflection when a familiar song was broadcasted via the radio: "But your big eyes don't give me a rest ..." He stopped writing, laid down on the sofa, and start smoking, meanwhile enjoying the familiar song rhythms. Ah, those big, big eyes don't give him any rest.
And the smoke of the cigarette, rising up in rings, melted up in the air, or finding suitable cracks in the window, to come out into the open air, into the sky, into the freedom. Oh my God, the cigarette's smoke also struggles for freedom. And he was immersed to this ruthless life with many thoughts and threads. To get rid of it, sometimes you have to give up your imagination and “fly” into the air.
"It's evening: The night is coming soon. The flowers will fall asleep, the gentle wind will overwhelm them, and he will leave this choking city, leaving the noise, the screams, the disappointment, the disputes, the jealousy ... There is a quiet, deep silence. The yellow moon, slowly sliding, illuminates the planet Earth. These are the last days of Spring, flowers are everywhere – many and lots, with thousand colors and thousand smells, and the fresh air have taken over the entire universe. He is very happy. He holds Sati's hand, her left hand that is closer to her tough heart, and she is indifferent. He remembers the words of a familiar song: "And I thought you had a heart, my dear ..." He hears his regular heartbeats, that were ticking like a clock. It seems they say I don't love, I don't love. A melodious violin playing is heard from somewhere. Tchaikovsky's "Melancholic Serenade" is performed. And who the player is? It is a silent, black-dark night, but here the cold moon comes out from the clouds, softly illuminating the darkness and turning it into yellow. They walk side by side. Where are they going? Doesn't matter where? After all, they are together, even if they go to the far end of the world. He hugs Sati's thin waist and takes her far away, but the heart-braking music continues. The green meadow ends up and a deep gorge opens in front of them. They slide down the gorge lightly.
Again flowers; green, pleasant aroma; black, giant stones. And the moon is winking. It is round, goofy and senseless cold. Sati laughs and runs away, and seems she is becoming mad at happiness. He tries to run, grab her, hug her, but she turns back around and hugs him. They sit on a giant stone. And the stone looks at them with a black-and-white glance. Below is flowing a river, and in the distance a thick white fog spreads. Tchaikovsky's Intermezzo is heard. Love, desire, music is mixed to create a harmony of life. He hugs Sati, and kisses her burning lips, cheeks, eyes, the neck, the chest ... Wants to take more from the life. Maybe this is the only time he has been given a grace. Suddenly Sati jumps up, laughing and running away, and he runs after her. And she, like a music, like a soft breeze, slips and disappears into desolation. From the far only her laughter like a bell ring is heard. All around are blue, red, green, yellow flowers, the moonlight and the music. The everlasting music of the LIFE.
Sunrise welcomes them with soft blossom and red, yellow, blue, colorful flowers. The sun rises slowly and heavily above the horizon, as if eyeing up them. Time creeps up, like a hungry snake crawling on the hunt. "
He woke up from a miraculous scene and find himself sitting alone in front of the desk at his hotel's room and continued to write his letter to Sati ...
* * *
The next day, after a hard and tiring work, he returned back to hotel and lay down on the bed without changing his clothes. But his passion for writing didn't stop him. It would have been nice to spend the day outdoors in the fresh air, wandering the nature, but it was rainy and he was avoiding the meeting with strangers. He wanted to think about his next steps. The rolling blue strangling smoke was his loyal friend within the times of disappointment and happy love.
Sati, you will never understand his feelings before and after your meeting. Now he is sitting down to continue writing the letter he left uncompleted the day before, to be with you again. With a heart shake I remember your cry when we were meeting at that rainy station. And what a scream, until now that ringing sound is heard in his ears. Sati, do you remember that moment, or it was just a usual meeting for you? You ran and hugged him, and he was stammered out of happiness and couldn't realize it was a dream or a reality. Everything he was remembering and living again now: he could not forget that moment of your meeting for a second. And the curling smoke of the cigarette carried out of the window his free thoughts, that were making him relieved.
Closing his eyes, he was remembering again the details of that meeting, which lasted for a moment, and sometimes he was thinking this was not a reality, but a sweet dream or hallucination, or an illusion.
But when he opened Sati's letter, that she gave him at the station, and which was about nothing, he realized that the meeting was a reality. That letter reminded him again that Sati does not love him with the love he wants, but she loves him as a best and faithful friend, and she cannot go on without him. It's a paradox, isn't it?
Now he was repeating the words from that letter, "but I have no right to get this happiness." That is, Sati thinks she will be happy with him, but has no right to get this happiness, making someone else's miserable. But what is this right, and why one cannot love another person after loving that one? After all, you have to decide your own destiny, who else? Don't talk about the right. And I have no right to love you because you don't love me. You don't love me, but you also don't want to lose me, what stands behind it, and what if ...? I mean, I will stay in the gold reserve, but it is dishonesty, a hard role for me, it is better to tell the truth and leave each other. Tell me, Sati, don't you really love me? No, don't tell me. it will be a hard thing for me, let me live with a gleam of hope. Anyway, you've already told enough. You will marry someone else, you will become another's wife. Oh my God, but I love you.
These recurring moments of despair overwhelmed Arti again, he interrupted the letter, took the cigarette, and left the room.
Man is an interesting creature, his way of thinking, existence is an obscure phenomenon. Within the moments of suffering, he dreams of the best, the highest, the happiest life.
* * *
It was night. The gray-blue dusk was spread on the river's bright mirror. Birds, flowers, rocks, people, even the sun were sleeping. Only the mountain river and the moon were not asleep. The river was sighing, and the moon was silent.
It is morning now. Everything is awakened and in a motion. On the bank of the river the green and tall aspens rustle, they hurry to move their tops and sink into the blue of the sky.
On the other bank of the river there are only rocky cliffs and bare hills; Mountains, rocks, stones, dried grass and deadly silence. The sun last summer destroyed everything live here. This is the kingdom of snakes. They crawl slowly and heavily over the hot stones, finding a perfect place to lie down and take a sunbath, then waiting for a moment to attack their victim. In winter, they fall asleep, and now taking off their old "clothes" they are wearing new ones and getting a new look. One of the snakes started to move, slowly finding a bird's nest somewhere there are newborn chicks. Here's a huge throat open, and the first victim slides slowly through his belly. Here is the second, the third ... Now it crawls cheerfully, full of life and looking for the beloved one to play a love. The snakes also fall in love, but what about the mother of that chicks? Her heartbreaking tweet is spread in the air.
Spring morning awakens sharp sensations. Arti imagines Sati sitting next to him in this corner of a peaceful nature. White lilies bloom in the small pond near the river. He remembered the flower violet. They were playing a game where he was the gardener and Sati was the violet, and he told that he is tired of all these flowers except the violet. Then he laughed aloud at what he said, and the rocks echoed ha, ha, ha ... A stone pulled off the rock rolled into the abyss. He took Sati's hands, looked at her face for a while, kissed her lips and whispered:
"Love me, Sati!"
And Sati's face was changed, the smile disappeared, and Arti realized that Sati didn't love him.
"Let’s swim," Sati said, to get rid of the hard thoughts, and prepared to dive into the deep waters of the river.
- Find me if you love me.
He dived into the waters, found her and said:
- Now it’s your turn.
Buts she never found him in the running waters. Then it was night, the moon slid the yellow disk in the azure. He was playing the guitar, and Sati was leaned over his shoulder and whispering soft words near his ear.
The illusion was over. Arti returned to real life, it was too late, and he had to return back to the hotel and continue the not finished letter to Sati. But now it was Sati in his imagination, in her navy shirt, black trousers, with her crazy screams.
He reached hotel room, gently opened the door, walked in, sat down at the table, and tried to finish the half-letter.
An hour later he finally finished the letter, closed it, wrote down the temporary address, that Sati had given him at the train station, left the hotel, went to the post office, processed the letter, and returned back to hotel again.
He sat down with bonded thoughts, and suddenly an idea came to him, to write a short love story a novel about Sati, about his hopeless and unanswered love, sufferings, dreams, aspirations, and LOVE.
How to get started? He lived a whole life just within this one year, when this sick feeling found him. He took the pen, opened the first page of the notebook, once again evaluated the stability of his nervous system, and start writing ...