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”.