Noć Slomljenih Strela: "Sećanje Na Orah" | Night Of Broken Arrows | Zbirka Kratkih Priča | A book Of Short Stories | Un Livre D'histoires Courtes

 

Noć Slomljenih Strela: 

"Sećanje Na Orah" 

  Vraćam se daleko, u vreme koje je zapisano u mojim osećanjima , koje mi nudi oskudne vizuelne slike.

Lice pripitog i brzog dede i lice takođe pripitog ali usporenog, drugog dede. Lice jedne nasmejane babe, lice druge nasmejane babe, lice zamišljene i odsutne prastare prababe. Svima se oči cakle, dedama usled alkoholnog opijenog bljeska, babama zbog jakih emocija i sete u grudima.

Livada, velika, prostrana. Trava visoka koliko i ja, prava džungla i raj za čula. Puno belih leptira, pčela, osa, opasnih obada, guštera, zmija, mačaka, pasa, krtica, kišnih glista i mrava. Čitav kosmos darovan kao najlepša i najzanimljivija igračka.

Penjem se na malo brdo, i zamišljam da sam kralj. Trebao mi je još i štap da ga podignem u vis, ka čistom plavom nebu. Da potvrdim da vladam svetom. Tražio sam da iščupam iz zemlje nešto što bi odgovaralo veličini moje volje za moći. Video sam jaku, debelu stabljiku i iščupao  sam je iz sve snage, morao sam da se potvrdim. Tako sam jako vukao da sam se okliznuo, pao i za malo proboo ispod oka. Krenuo sam kući plačući, držeći ranu iz koje je curila krv. Brzo su je očistili. Nije bilo strašno, ali ja taj štap ka nebu nisam podigao… Stavili su me u kadu da me operu, negde sam naleteo na crnu smolu, nisam ni primetio das sam sav crn. Baba je uzela vim i četku za pranje tepiha, ne znam o čemu je razmišljala ali mi je na jednom mestu odrala kožu sa noge. Plakao sam glasno. Vlada, prijatelj kuće je došao da pomogne. Natrljao je šampon na moju kosu i uzeo tuš da je ispere. Pripit poprlično, zaboravio je na hladnu vodu, odvrnuo je samo vruću. Aurliknuo sam, vrela voda po glavi mi je napravila dobru opekotinu. Možda je to zbog one mačke što sam je pustio da se udavi u buretu, pomislio sam. Da me uteše, svi su se skupili i u dnevnoj sobi pevali dečije pesmice. Gledao sam ih i još tad posumnjao da li su normalni? Teča mi je dao metalnih deset dinara. Brzo mi je dosadilo da ih držim u rukama pa sam ih stavio u usta i počeo da se davim, kovanica se zaglavila u grlu.

Tada sam prvi put video paniku odraslih, pometeni, kao igračke na navijanje sudarali su se međusobno pokušavajući da nešto urade.

Teča je bio najprisebniji, uhvatio me je za noge i okrenuo naopačke, udarao me je šakom po ledjima i kovanica je izletela iz grla. Tada su svi osim teče vikali na mene i govorili kako treba da odrastem. Kasnije u krevetu, setio sam se svih mravljih spavaonica koje sam polivao vodom i uništavo nemilosrdno gazeći sve mrave, mislio sam da sam zbog toga možda trebao da se ugušim.

Nekoliko dana kasnije roditelji su spakovali moje stvari. Seli smo u automobil i otišli na more.

Uživao sam na Suncu i gledao neobičnu prirodu oko sebe. Zagledao sam se u neki kaktus i razmatrao njegov crveni cvet i opasne bodlje. Oko njega je sklupčano u hladu odmarao blavor, ličio je na debelu zmiju ali su mi objasnili da se on hrani zmijama i da je bezopasan po ljude. Moju zamišljenost je prekinuo tup udarac. Osetio sam kako mi vrela krv curi niz lice. Imam i danas fotografiju devojčice koja mi je kamenom razbila glavu. Na fotografiji smo ona i ja, samo umesto zavoja koji sam neko vreme nosio, na slici je veliki beli cvet koji je ona ubrala i stavila kao ukras na moj lepo začešljan razdeljak. Pokušavao sam da shvatim zašto me je devočica udarila kamenom u glavu ali ništa nisam mogao da zaključim. Kasnije sam se setio, pokidanih krilaca belih leptirova koja su se pretvarala u prah na mojim dlanovima i bilo mi je jasno da mi je glava razbijena zbog toga.

Te noći sam sanjao ogromnu zmiju, veličine kafane koja je bila u blizini, kako leži ispred uskog prolaza ka mojoj kući na moru. Sledio sam se od straha, nadajući se da se zmija neće pomeriti. Taj san neću nikada zaboraviti.

Kada smo se vratili sa mora, sledio je drugi san koji će isto tako ostati zauvek u mom sećanju.

Sumrak je, vraćam se kući i snažno osećam opasnost. Osvrćem se oko sebe ali ne vidim ništa što u meni rasplamsava strah. Tek ispred ulaznih vrata shvatam i vidim šta me čeka u stanu, sakriveno u senci, mračnije od nje. Oblik ima čovečiji ali nije čovek, nije veštica, nije ni veštac, crni stranac... strašno pakleno stvorenje koje me čeka da napravim još jedan korak da bi me dohvatilo i nahranilo se. Probudio sam se u znoju, zahvalan što sam živ.

……………

Počeo sam veoma rano da postavljam sebi pitanja o životu i  o smrti i pokušavao da  razjasnim sam sebi neke stvari. Gledao sam odrasle i osećao da na to pitanje od njih neću dobiti nikakav odgovor, tako da ih o tome nikada nisam ništa ni pitao. Počeo sam da tražim odgovor sam i znao sam da će to biti dugotrajan proces.

Ono što sam prvo zaključio je da sam neraskidivo povezan sa svime što me okružuje. Svaki pogrešan potez koji je u kasnijoj budućnosti sledio, a odvajao me od te veze, bio je bezdan i kao ukus gorkog otrova koji bih osetio. Pri sličnim razmišljanjima, uvek se pred mojim očima otvarala ogromna krošnja oraha kojeg sam ubio. Toliki orah, ogroman, plodan. Orah koji je bio moja kućica, moj mir. Zašto, zašto sam to učinio? Zašto sam mu lomio grančicu po grančicu, a zatim prešao na velike grane i tako ga osakatio da je gorostasni orah uvenuo i osušio se skroz, naskroz. Sećam se kada su ga iskopavali, trajalo je to tri dana, tako je duboke korene imao.

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Juri misao mojim telom, kao krv kada sam bio dete i ne pita. Dete traži odgovor, detetu treba siloviti, leteći skok, dete traži dela koja će ga pred nebom pomilovati, suncu još snage dati, svemir ako treba ponovo skupiti, sve okrenuti i njegovu ruku sa zelenom granom ponovo pod nebo podići.

Noć slomljenih strela, BG | SEEcult.org

"Remembrance Of The Walnut"

I go back far, to a time written in my feelings, which offers me scant visual images.

The face of a drunk and fast grandfather and the face of another grandfather, also drunk but slowed down. The face of one smiling grandmother, the face of another smiling grandmother, the face of a pensive and absent great-grandmother. Everyone's eyes glaze over, grandfathers due to an alcoholic flash, grandmothers due to strong emotions and thoughts in their chests.

Meadow, large, spacious. The grass is as tall as I am, a real jungle and a paradise for the senses. Lots of white butterflies, bees, wasps, danger rings, lizards, snakes, cats, dogs, moles, earthworms and ants. The entire cosmos gifted as the most beautiful and interesting toy.

I climb a small hill, and imagine that I am a king. I also needed a stick to lift it up into the clear blue sky. To confirm that I rule the world. I sought to pluck from the earth something to match the magnitude of my will to power. I saw a strong, thick stalk and I pulled it out with all my might, I had to assert myself. I was pulling so hard that I slipped, fell and almost got a puncture under my eye. I started home crying, holding the bleeding wound. They cleaned it up quickly. It wasn't terrible, but I didn't raise that stick to the sky... They put me in the bathtub to wash me, somewhere I bumped into black resin, I didn't even notice that I was all black. Grandma took a mop and a brush to wash the carpet, I don't know what she was thinking, but she peeled the skin off my leg in one place. I cried out loud. Vlada, a friend of the house came to help. He rubbed shampoo into my hair and took a shower to wash it off. Very drunk, he forgot about cold water, he only turned on hot water. I snorted, the hot water on my head giving me a good burn. Maybe it's because of that cat I let her drown in the barrel, I thought. To comfort me, they all got together and sang children's songs in the living room. I looked at them and still doubted if they were normal? Teča gave me a metal ten dinars. I quickly got tired of holding them in my hands so I put them in my mouth and started choking, the coin stuck in my throat.

That was the first time I saw the panic of adults, swept away, like wind-up toys colliding with each other trying to do something.

Techa was the most composed, he grabbed my legs and turned me upside down, he punched me on the back and the coin flew out of his throat. Then everyone except Techa shouted at me and told me that I should grow up. Later in bed, I remembered all the ant dormitories I had poured water over and stomping on all the ants, I thought maybe I should have suffocated because of that.

A few days later my parents packed my things. We sat in the car and went to the sea.

I enjoyed the sun and looked at the unusual nature around me. I stared at a cactus and considered its red flower and dangerous spines. Around him, curled up in the shade, a snake was resting, it looked like a fat snake, but they explained to me that it feeds on snakes and is harmless to humans. My reverie was interrupted by a thump. I felt hot blood running down my face. I still have a photo of the girl who smashed my head with a rock. The photo shows her and me, only instead of the bandage that I wore for a while, the picture shows a large white flower that she picked and placed as a decoration on my nicely combed parting. I was trying to understand why the girl hit me in the head with a stone, but I couldn't conclude anything. Later I remembered the torn wings of white butterflies turning into dust on my palms and it was clear to me that my head was broken because of it.

That night I dreamed of a huge snake, the size of a nearby tavern, lying in front of the narrow passage to my house by the sea. I followed in fear, hoping the snake wouldn't move. I will never forget that dream.

When we returned from the sea, another dream followed which will also remain forever in my memory.

It's dusk, I'm coming home and I feel a strong sense of danger. I look around but I see nothing that ignites fear in me. Only in front of the front door do I realize and see what awaits me in the apartment, hidden in the shadows, darker than her. It has a human form, but it is not human, it is not a witch, it is not even a sorcerer, a black stranger... a terrible hellish creature that is waiting for me to take one more step in order to reach me and feed on me. I woke up in a sweat, grateful to be alive.

……………

I started very early asking myself questions about life and death and trying to clarify some things for myself. I looked at the adults and felt that I would not get any answer to that question from them, so I never asked them anything about it. I started looking for the answer on my own and I knew it would be a long process.

What I first concluded was that I am inextricably connected with everything that surrounds me. Every wrong move that followed in the later future, and separated me from that relationship, was an abyss and like the taste of bitter poison that I would feel. During similar thoughts, the huge crown of the walnut tree that I killed always opened before my eyes. Such a nut, huge, fertile. The nut that was my house, my peace. Why, why am I in did? Why did I break it branch by branch, and then move on to the big branches and mutilate it so that the mountain nut withered and dried up completely, completely. I remember when they dug it up, it took three days, it had such deep roots.

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A thought rushes through my body, like blood when I was a child and doesn't ask. The child is looking for an answer, the child needs to be raped, a flying jump, the child is looking for actions that will pardon him before the sky, give the sun more strength, the universe if it needs to be gathered again, turn everything around and raise his hand with the green branch under the sky again.

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Night Of Broken Arrows | Zbirka Kratkih Priča | A book Of Short Stories | Un Livre D'histoires Courtes