Grumblings ofRecently I visited Samarkand. The beautiful ancient city all impregnated with history from a dusty cobble-stone of the crowded areas to arrows of the high minarets piercing in the sky. My guide, an intelligent look the woman with slightly east appearance and absolutely Russian name and a surname, well trained voice, for certain, to me already ten-thousand, smoothly, narrated about history of Samarkand, about his great governors and just remarkable citizens, poets and scientists who were once living here.
She, with national pride and obvious pleasure, postanovochno, told about the best-known samarkandets - Great Tamerlan. As that fire and a sword won new lands. As besieged the present capital of India, Delhi, having burned a half of enemy army. As it is extensive and its new empire was beautiful. We slowly went on narrow small streets and the wide areas by to monuments to it, to the Lame Timur who assumed a dignified air with some scientific volume where it appears as the governor - the scientist, in a proud pose of the governor - the soldier, with a sword and peep, still as. From portraits and from a stone, from everywhere, the face of the great husband full of pride and nobility looked at me.
We came into mosques, talked to samarkandets, drank tea in teahouse. And everywhere to me, the visiting tourist, continually, stuck into a face with Tamerlan as the most important Uzbek sight. And my brain inflamed by a heat, throughout all digression, was not left by one thought: to whom this high you sing the song? Whether to the executioner and bloody tsar?
After, in colourful details as if it at the same time was present, rapped out my erudite guide how wisely Tamerlan ordered to set fire to hay on camels, thereby having given the shakes to fighting elephants of deliyets who turned back and crushed a half of army of defenders of the Indian capital, at me my tourist patience burst and I took an interest: whether it finds, the person formed and living in the twenty first century that similar aggressive wars, with the subsequent plunder, executions and enslavement of the whole people should not cause in the modern person anything, except condemnation, and not so national pride? My question threw her into easy confusion then, having looked at me it is a little strange and guilty, she answered: whether I find that all living in modern Russia should not be proud of conquest of Siberia by Yermak, especially, to indigenous people of Siberia at which in the most severe way thousands and thousands of people living on the to the primordial earth were subordinated?
Her question did not nonplus me. At least because I am not proud, and it is rather a sense of shame and awkwardness at the mention of many great names. All history of mankind - history of bloody wars, cruelty and violence. We put monuments not to peacekeepers, and soldiers. We still, as well as hundreds of years to that, are proud of the fact that we managed to subdue, subordinate, and we test terrible genetic awkwardness from the fact that we did not manage. And to us absolutely to spit on those whom we submit and we subordinate. Unless not so?
I - almost the Belarusian
caught himself for shameful and earlier for himself not the noticeable act servile a vsesoglasiya before the authorities Yesterday. To me, with check of house safety, some representative of local authorities, the young man with a portfelchik and the list of residents was declared. Anything remarkable: check of systems of the fire notification, gas stoves, furnaces of heating and other. Without having worked to look at these plates and furnaces, the young man pretended that he with all gravity asks questions, I, in turn, pretended that I seriously answer them. In Belarus it is often so accepted: they pretend that they care for us, we pretend that we trust it. He hurried to put a tick opposite to my surname, to take my list and began to bustle away. New in me there was the fact that, having hasty begun to nod the head to this authority, I hurried to assure him that at me everything is all right that I very responsibly there approach something and to flavor it with a guilty ulybochka. Earlier, I would ask it questions, but not it me: why they only demand from us that we had fire warning systems, fine us for the fact that wires on an attic are not grounded properly, etc., and to them to spit on the fact that all this costs considerable money and do nothing except that demand? Why don`t it look at for the sake of what it came and not to offer or someone`s there services for improvement of a situation? Why its approach to business such it is formal - heartless? Now, I also did not think to battle against the next windmill, and subconsciously, hurried to make a curtsey to these authorities, having recognized that behind them all rights. They I pretend that care for us, we - that we trust in it.
On Sunday, on the TV, I watch Belarusian “Arsenal“, modern “I Serve the Soviet Union“. Tell, habitually, that “our armor is strong and our tanks are fast“, in the soldier`s dining room full-fledged three meals a day, and in general everything is simply healthy also without problems.
I watch some political broadcast in the afternoon that in America crisis, in Europe crisis, in Asia poverty … And in Belarus … “I do not know other such country where it is so free the person breathes“.
I observe some current in the evening - show. Whether “The reciprocal course“, whether still that. Again familiar melody: in the USA unemployment reached 10%, in Spain 14%, in Germany 11%. Crisis, frosts, planes do not fly, trains do not go. And in Belarus … “everything is good, the great marchioness, everything is good, everything is good“.
Having looked and having listened about our happy childhood, a maturity and an old age, I nearly shout as the madman, for pleasure when at the very end of day I, at last, heard from someone from desperate stars, that I so long waited: “In America crisis, in Europe planes do not fly, trains do not go, around a frost and unemployment, only we are fine. The feeling is such that we live under some cap from invisible glass. And crises avoid us also to planes with trains frosts there is nothing“. All pink-checked opponents carefully grow quiet.
Morals: east wisdom “How many do not speak “halvah, halvah“, - in a mouth will become more sweet not“ it is not absolutely right in a modern context. If it is constant to residents of separately taken country to repeat “At you everything well, at you everything is good“, then, really, oh as there is a wish to believe in it.
“In Belarus unemployment makes 0,8%“ - I hear in thousand time. “How many, how many?“ - I am perplexed. “0,8%“. “There is no problem with employment in the country. Who wants to work - will always find work“ - I hear explanations of some official. “Usually, those who, actually do not want to work cannot get a job“. “Yet really?“. From my five close to acquaintances, two, the third month I cannot already find a job. Though they obviously do not concern those who “do not wish to work actually“. And experts not bad.
“The average salary in the country equals to 400 US dollars“. Again I am surprised much to that from where this figure undertook. Every time something new. However, I understand. It is average. Very average.
One my acquaintance works at profitable meat-processing plant. All day long, as where “nobody is reduced“, someone was reduced nevertheless. Works also on Saturdays, it is frequent also on Sundays. “Listen, - I say, - probably, you already became rich. In total at work and at work“. In eyes I see mortal melancholy, the coarsened hands, early signs of aging. “Yes, - says, - I do not know where to put money. Last month received 500 thousand (a little more than 200 dollars) on hands “.
Other acquaintance works as the ancillary worker on near the lying enterprise, and I often see it in the mornings, gloomily going for work. “How life, Petrovich?! - once again I am interested. “Yes, mother - remother, there her syuda, in a cabbage stump!“ - I hear the emotional answer. Every time, greeting it, I notice any changes in shape of this early old man. Probably, he is an idler too. Loser.
But our head has the next pleasure. To it awarded a rank someone honourable and on a breast hung up a medal. Now article about it from the local newspaper telling about its progress hangs on a message board. The gilded inscriptions “Honoured Worker of So and So“ are urgently applied on business cards. He sits under the portrait where the responsible person we hand it a distinction, in excellent mood. His driver oshashet assembles the exercise bike presented to him by his faithful colleagues, secretaries and other with obsequious persons I scurry about to and fro.
Chiefs of departments with genuine interest consider a photo, read article, discuss. All are got slightly drunk and happy. Actually their interest genuine and they are happy for the head? Actually they divide this pathos, sighing and gasping, considering these pictures? They actually trust in all this?
Sometimes it seems to me that yes. In any case, many of them really sincerely sing the praises these enthusiastic, roll up eyes to the sky, are obsequiously bent, ready to serve. Or all this skillful timeserving mimicry? Art to survive? Life long game?
of People it is measured by success. It is more and more, this formula is stronger and stronger it is fixed in our heads. Even educated and far fairly clever people, often unconsciously, sing the praises high of god Uspekh. Not in the material plan, so in creative. Not in creative, so in intellectual.
One on one hundred will beware to extol some celebrated personality. Admire all: politicians, the priest - stars, models and oligarchs. Yes, and writers. And poets. Artists.
In most cases the kneeling admirer has very approximate idea of the one whom and what he admires. Or has no opinion. Because to have opinions on everything and all - there will not be enough opinions. It, opinion, it is necessary to develop at first. Therefore it is simpler to use already ready opinions of some recognized clever men.
Salinger, the author “At an abyss in rye“ died. Posthumous article. First of all, as about the author. Pathosly. It is old. Anything new. And same comments. The feeling is such that all have one opinion on all. And only one writes: “The book is good for the author`s homeland. And also for those who learn English. Boringly. Primitively. Did not inspire“. It is possible to agree though there is a wish not to agree rather - we know how it is necessary to think, - but tribute needs to be paid to the reviewer. It has the opinion.
Before Abdulov, Tikhonov, Yankovsky died. There is a wish to exclaim “Such will never be!“. And it is valid, remarkable actors. Earth to them down. But … against funeral general delight the opinion that this or that actor was so-so flashes. “Postoyte-!“ - there is a wish to be indignant. As “so-so!“. All already told that the actor was ingenious. As played! As was silent! As stood and lay!
One wise man somehow uttered (and to him ten others): “If you are praised - reflect, whether you do“.