The Twelve Slabs of the Genocide Memorial

Vahe H. Apelian

An aerial view of the Armenian Genocide Memorial in Armenia

Recently I came across the attached picture of the Armenian Genocide Memorial in Armenia on an elevation called Tsitsernakaberd. It was the very first time I saw the memorial pictured from above. It cast an impressive image. The flowers put in the memorial on an April 24 commemoration enhanced the symbolism of what the memorial stood for and brought it live.

According to the Wikipedia “ The construction of the monument began in 1966, during Soviet times, in response to the 1965 Yerevan demonstrations during which one hundred thousand people demonstrated in Yerevan for 24 hours to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Genocide. They demanded the Soviet authorities officially recognize it as a genocide. The memorial is designed by architects Arthur Tarkhanyan, Sashur Kalashyan and artist Hovhannes Khachatryan and was completed in November 1967.”

The memorial consists of 12 slabs  positioned in a circle that bow towards the center of the circle where there is an eternal flame dedicated to the 1.5 million killed during the Armenian genocide. 

There is a discrepancy regarding  the symbolism of  the number of slabs of the memorial represent. In the English version description of the memorial, Wikipedia claims that they represent “the twelve lost provinces in present-day Turkey.” But a cursory search in Wikipedia  indicates that present  “Turkey is divided into 81 provinces”.

One naturally assumes that the reference is made to the provinces that in diplomatic circles, at one time constituted  Western Armenia in the Ottoman Empire for they were the most Armenian inhabited.  That also is not the case for historically the major Armenian inhabited provinces were considered to be six. I quote: “The term Six Vilayets  was a term In the diplomatic language and meant the Vilayets with Armenian population. European diplomats often referred to the Six Armenian Vilayets during the Congress of Berlin in 1878.” The  congress whose Armenian delegation was headed by Khrimian Hayrig and who, upon return, gave his historical “iron (or paper) ladle” speech.

In  response to my posting the aerial picture of the Genocide Monument/Memorial in Armenia, Vartan Matiossian commented and noted the following: “the slabs have nothing to do with the "twelve lost provinces," a frequently repeated explanation that has become an urban myth. Out of the fifteen provinces of historical Armenia, Utik and Paytakaran are in Azerbaijan, Artsakh is independent, Ayrarat, Gugark, and Siunik are partly in the Republic of Armenia. So, we have no more than 9 provinces in Turkey. Regardless, the architect of the monument has said himself that the 12 slabs are unrelated to the "twelve provinces." 

The Armenian version of Wikipedia in fact  asserts the veracity  Vartan Matiossian’s claim. The twelve slaps  were chosen out of architectural consideration. The architects after having considered different number of slabs, had found out that 12 slabs were architecturally the most esthetic. 

Yet, one expects that every facet of the memorial, especially the more visible slabs, are symbolic to something. As far as I am concerned, while it is good to know as to how the number of slabs of the main Armenian Genocide Memorial came about, but alluding that the slabs represent the  provinces or the vilayets in the Ottoman Empire, from which the Armenians were driven for extermination is a fair assumption in spite of the fact that the number is not historically tenable and is mythic.

The Dreamer

Levon Sharoyan

Translated by Vahe H. Apelian (2014)

What of the dying life? (Ինչ փոյթ կեանքը մեռնող)
When the dream lives on (Երբոր երազը կ՝ապրի)
When the dream is immortal (Երբոր երազն անմահ է)

Taniel Varoujan (Դանիէլ Վարուժան)

The Budding Poet

This year marks the 130th anniversary of poet Taniel Varoujan’s birth. He was born on April 20, 1884 in the village of Prknig (Բրգնիկ), on the outskirts of Sepastia, Turkey. He hailed from the Chboukarian (Չպուգքեարեան) family. His father, Krikor, spent most of his life in Istanbul working in brokerage. His mother, Takouhie, was a homemaker. She bore four sons. Taniel was the eldest. His siblings, all male, were named Vahan (Վահան), Bedros (Պետրոս) and Arshag (Արշակ), the youngest. Arshag was 24 years younger than him and was two years old  when Varoujan married.

After attending the local school, he was sent in 1896, the year of the Hamidian Massacres, to Istanbul where his father lived. In Istanbul he attended the Mekhitarian School. He continued his education at Mourad-Rafaelian School of Venice, and in 1906 entered the Ghent University in Belgium where he studied literature and economics.

His first book of poetry appeared in the Keghouni (Գեղունի) periodical that was published in San Lazzaro (Ս. Ղազարի) Island, Venice. It was titled Shivers (Սարսուռներ). The Hamidian Massacres and the imprisonment of his father had left profound impression on the young man he would articulate in the book. He was 21 years old. Of course, his early poems lacked the artistic mastery of his later literary works.
The Teacher

In 1909, right after the declaration of the Ottoman Constitution, he returned home. He started teaching at the Aramian School of Sepastia (Սեբաստիոյ Ազգ. Արամեան վարժարան).

Some of his students later wrote about him in their memoirs. One of them was Arakel Badreg who reminisced that one year, just before their summer break, they went to Prknig to visit Varoujan in his paternal house. On their way they passed through the same road and along the same stream that Varoujan alluded to in his autobiography in Teotig’s Yearbook (Թէոդիկի Տարեցոյց). In it Varoujan had written, “That’s where I spent my childhood, under the melancholic shade of the pomegranate trees, or along the stream, mischievously throwing pebbles to the ducks”.

As the boys passed by the same stream, they turned to one of their classmates and said, “Dikran, you better throw pebbles at the ducks too, perhaps you may become another Varoujan one day”.

Varoujan and his parents welcomed them to their home with jubilation. It was a two-storey building, simply furnished. A vegetable garden surrounded the house. The library of the poet was rich with books. Varoujan read a poem by Dante and then asked them “Did you pay attention to the language’s silvery sounding beauty? The Italian is a song, it is a song…….”

He taught there for three years. After his marriage to Araxie in 1912, he became the principal of St. Gregory the Illuminator School in Istanbul.
The Poet

Not long after his return from Europe (1909) he published his second literary work, a book of poetry titled The Heart of the Race (Ձեղին Սիրտը). It is there that Varoujan revealed the eminent poet he was. His writing had reached an unsurpassed mastery of language and of depth and form. He was only 25 years old  when he published the literary masterpiece.

A great deal has been written about his poetry. Our greatest literary critic, Hagop Oshagan, after reading The Heart of the Race declared that Varoujan is our greatest poet.

Varoujan had a special approach to writing. Events from his life inspired him. He would stir his imagination and dreams and  turn personal occurrences into an all-Armenian longing and at times into an all-humanity yearning.

Once Father Ghevont Alishan (Հ. Ղեւոնդ Ալիշան) sent one of his books to Catholicos Mgrdich Khrimian inscribing in it “To the Nation’s Father” (Հայոց Հայրիկին); The catholicos, in turn, sent him a boxful of soil from Armenia addressed to “The Patriarch of the Nation” (Հայոց Նահապետին). Inspired by the exchanges, Varoujan wrote one of his most memorable poems--“The Red Soil” (Կարմիր հողը)--in The Heart of the Race collection of poetry

In 1912 he published Pagan Songs (Հեթանոս երգեր), his third book of poetry.

His last book, The Song of Bread (Հացին Երգը), was published posthumously in 1921. The poems celebrate the toiling Armenian peasantry. He describes the peasant standing tall and imposing in the fields he cultivates. The eloquence of his writing remains unmatched.
The Poet’s Marriage

To supplement his teacher’s meager salary at the Aramian School, Varoujan gave private lessons to a young girl named Araxie, the daughter of a wealthy family. As was the local customs at the time, Araxie had been promised in betrothal to the son of a wealthy family when still in her crib. That’s why Araxie’s mother always chaperoned her daughter and attended her classes. Yet, the improbable happened. The teacher and the student fell madly in love with each other.

Rumors started flying in greater Sepastia. The classes ended abruptly and Araxie’s parents and the prospective in-laws began hasty plans for an earlier-than-planned wedding, but Araxie remained adamant refusing to comply with her parent’s wishes. Instead of a wealthy husband she preferred the country teacher of meager means.

The event became the talk of the town among the Armenians. Many regarded the incident scandalous. Some supported Varoujan and wanted the lovers to marry. Others blamed Varoujan for having seduced his young student. The animosity toward Varoujan became so great that he began to carry a stick to defend himself should he be attacked.

Finally, the prominent Armenian freedom-fighter, Sepastatsi Mourad, who, as his name indicates was from Sepastia, intervened on behalf of Varoujan. Mourad's stature was such that his intervention quelled all gossip and put an end to what was deemed scandalous. Three children were born from their union: Veronic (Վերոնիք); Haig (Հայկ); and Armen (Արմէն).

The Poet’s Demise

In April 1915 Varoujan, along with many other Armenian notables, was apprehended in Istanbul. Their arrest would be the prelude of what would be the greatest catastrophe that has befallen on the Armenian nation, the Genocide. He was subjected to torture and died a slow and painful death in August of that year, near a Turkish village called Changher (Չանղըր). He was 31-years-old.

Varoujan’s father was killed in Sepastia. The fate of his mother and two brothers is not known. Only his brother, Vahan, survived. For many years he worked in a printing shop in Paris.

His widow, Araxie, remarried and emigrated to the United States. Their son, Haig, settled in Fresno, California where he worked for a local newspaper. He passed away in 2002. His second son, Armen, settled in Hawaii with his family. He passed away there. Veronic worked in New York city public libraries. She would always attend the April 24 commemorations and reflect upon her talented father.

The Poet Remembered

Taniel Varoujan Monument in Armenia

In 1958 the Armenian students in Belgium secured the permission of the Ghent University to have a bilingual plaque commemorating Taniel Varourjan  placed in the university library hall.

The unveiling of the memorial plaque took place on February 9, 1958. The poet’s widow, Mrs. Araxie Varoujan-Apigian attended the unveiling.

A representative from ministry of culture, the president of the university, Luc-André Marcel (who had translated Varoujan’s work into French); Frédéric Feydit, the eminent Armenian linguist; writer Garo Poladian, and Edouard Emirzian (the latter on behalf of the Armenian students) took part in the ceremony and spoke about the poet. A former classmate and academician Pierre Maes delivered a most poignant personal testimony about the slain poet. He said Taniel Varoujan had mastered the French language--not long after his enrollment--to deliver a lecture at the history department about Armenians and Armenian culture. Varoujan would read to him, the academician said, the poems Varoujan had written in Armenian, leaving him mesmerized by the eloquence of their sound and delivery, although he did not understand Armenian.

Varoujan’s appeal as a prominent poet continues to reverberate to this day.

Below is Tatul Sonentz-Papazian’s translation of Taniel Varoujan’s Antastan poem.

Source: Keghart.com 

Tale of an Armenian Hymnal (2/2) – Betrayal and Revenge

Vahe H. Apelian

I concluded the previous part of a “Tale of an Armenian Hymnal” (1/2) article,  as follows: Did he survive?  I do not know of any other hymnal from Hmayag Aramiants.” The question pertained to the compiler of the Armenian song book, Hmayag Aramiants. (https://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2017/04/tale-of-armenian-hymnal.html).

A few readers, including the well-informed Zaven Zakarian, wondered if the author of the songbook was no other than the infamous Hmayag Aramiants who betrayed the Social-Democrat Hunchakian party causing the well-known tragic event in the recent Armenian history  known as “ The 20 Hunchakian Gallows”. The revelation was news for me. I had come to learn about Hmayag Aramiants' name by association with the hymnal he compiled.

In retrospect I believe that the author of the hymnal and the betrayer of the Hunchakian party is one and the same person Zaven Zakarian suspected. That is to say Hmayag Aramiants. I base my affirmation on the following premises.

The songbook Hmayag Aramiants published in 1911 is a collection of the songs that leaned towards  socialism, including international brotherhood, the cornerstone of socialism. In his preface he comes across as a true believer in the promise of  socialistic order that is meant to transcend race and unite the different races of the Ottoman Empire as a common class in the pursuit of their well-being. He thus comes across as  an ardent believer in the new order in the Ottoman Empire trusting in the promise of the Justice, Equality and Liberty the new order was supposed to bring. He had the march of Ittihad included in the hymnal.

Then there is his uncommon personal and family names. It is not likely that the author had his namesake during the same time in Constantinople who turned out to be a traitor. A search in the internet indicated that Hmayag Aramiants had authored at least another book (booklet?) titled “Political and Economic Liberty” which, the front cover indicates, is the lecture he gave during a meeting  that took place between Sepember 19-23, 1908, in the Geyeg Pasha neighborhood of Constantinople.  He had the book published the same year. It is not likely that there were two persons named Hmayag Aramiants who harbored  such political and economic interests. (Note: “Ազատութիւն Քաղաքկան եւՏնտեսական”. Ատենախօսութիւն (Արատասանուծ Կ.Պոլսոյ Կէտիկ Փաշա Թաղը գումարուածմիթինկին մէջ 19/23 Սեպտմեմբեր 1908)

Hmayag Aramiants was a member of the Hunchak Party. In the songbook, he had a full-page picture of a poster of two freedom fighters displaying a flag that reads  “Freedom or Death” (Mah gam Azadoutiun). The poster header read: ‘kharperti “Kharbeti Hunchak Martyrs” (Hunchagian Voghpatsial Nahadagner).

Finally, what transpired to the Hunchakian Party at the time could have  come about only by a well-placed member of the party who was privy of the inner deliberations of the party at the highest level.

The Committee of Union and Progress, that is to say the Ittihad ve Terakki Cemiyeli party, which appeared to be generally referred to as the Itthihad party, was a movement that led the Young Turk revolution take over the Empire in 1908 and ushered the Empire into a constitutional order with elected representatives giving way to the Armenian Ottoman parliamentarians in the person of Krikor Zohrab and others. The Armenians in general accepted the promise of the new order with enthusiasm. However, the Hunchak party harbored serious reservations about the true intent of the Young Turk movement suspecting that it was racist in its core and that the Young Turks would be detrimental to the Armenians, as the Adana massacre made  plainly evident for them. Hence the party positioned itself against the Young Turk leaders, including naturally Talaat Pasha, and intended to assassinate them. 

I quote below Wikipedia to note what transpired between the publication of the Hmayag Aramiants collection of songs in 1911 and the fruition of the inner working of the Social Democrat Hnchakian Party, two years later, that is to say in 1913.

The 7th General Convention of the Social Democrat Hunchakian Party which was held in Constanta, Romania, in 1913, and adjourned with two main objectives:  "As stated in its original program, the party was to move from licit to illicit activities, thus becoming once again a covert organization. II - To plan and assassinate the leaders of the Ittihad (Young Turk) party, the same leaders that carried out the Adana massacres of 1909, and thus the same leaders who at that moment were planning the annihilation of the Armenian people. 

However, these secret objectives were passed on to the Ottomans by an agent; consequently, as soon as the delegates arrived in Constantinople, they were arrested. By the end of the year a total of one hundred and forty Hunchak leaders were arrested.

After spending two years in terrible conditions in Ottoman prisons, and undergoing lengthy mock trials, twenty prominent figures  were sentenced to death by hanging. A few weeks after the beginning of the Armenian Genocide  on June 15, 1915, all twenty men were hanged in the central square of Constantinople, known as Sultan Bayazid Square.”

That agent who passed on those secret party objectives to the Ottoman authorities surely was Hmayag Aramiants, the person who compiled the songbook; the Hnchakian party member and the ardent socialist who was naive enough to claim in the preface of his songbook that the armed resistance of the Armenians waged against the Hamidian regime, a Turkish regime nonetheless, would be understood and even appreciated by the Turkish bearers of the new slogan ostensibly for "Justice, Liberty, and Equality." It is likely that a rift had developed between Hmayag and his Hunchakian Party comrades-in-arms whom he viewed setting themselves in secret against the bearers of the "new" Turkish regime, the purported bearers of the very same ideology the Hunchak Party advocated, socialism and fraternity among the races.  

What happened to Hmayag Aramiants ?

Hmayag Aramiants was gunned down in Constantinople in 1920. His assassination was part of the Operation Nemesis that was conceived and carried out by the members of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation. Operation Nemesis brought to justice not only the Turk perpetrators of the Armenian genocide but also  treasonous Armenians. Hmayag Aramiants was one of them. His assassin was Arshag Yeztanian (Արշակ Եզդանյան) who, like the rest of avengers, was a member of the ARF. Nothing else appears to be known about Arshag.

Note:

Tale of an Armenian Hymnal (1/2):

http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2017/04/tale-of-armenian-hymnal.html

  

 

When Did the Song Giligia (Cilicia) become the Catholicosate of Cilicia’s Hymn.?

Vahe H. Apelian

This past Easter, Catholicos Aram’s picture, taken at the end of the  mass in the Catholicosate’s cathedral, went viral. He was depicted with teary eyes as the famed “Cilicia – Giligia” song was sung to an almost empty sanctuary  after he had lead the Easter Sunday’s mass.

I also posted Vehapar’s moving picture on my Facebook page. It seemed to encapsulate the mood of the Armenian communities in the Diaspora as each also braves the devastating effects of the Corona virus pandemics as an added burden to the Middle Eastern communities that have been facing dire political and economic situations in Lebanon and in Syria. My posting gave rise to insightful comments.

A friend from Canada, Varoujan Bedrossian, wondered if Cilicia is customarily sung at the end of mass? The hymn obviously is not part of liturgical mass. However, it turns out that the hymn is sung in the St. Gregory the Illuminator Cathedral in the Catholicosate of Cilicia campus in Antelias every Sunday at the end of mass. The rest of the churches sing the song on special occasions and not necessarily in the church but during fellowship after that particular Sunday mass.

Regarding the song, Garo Armenian noted the following.  “Cilicia” is not a folk song though it is very popular. It is a poem by Nahabed Roussinian (19^th Century) fashioned after a French poem bearing the  title of “Normandide" the music is by the 19^th century composer Kaprield Yeranian, also of Constantinople."

St. Gregory the Illuminator Cathedral and the Genocide Commemoration Chapel 

I became reflective as to when the song became a trademark of the Catholicosate of Cilicia, if not its accepted hymn?

I inquired with Der Torkom Chorbajian, who is the priest of the Holy Trinity Armenian Apostolic Church in Worcester, MA and with my friend Sarkis Mahserejian who, for many years, was the secretary at the West Coast  Prelacy beside being a prolific commentator and writer. Upon confirmation with the Prelate Archbishop Moushegh Mardirossian, Sarkis as well as Der Torkom claimed that the tradition of singing the song Giligia, at the end of the mass in the Cathedral of St. Gregory Illuminator, began with Catholicos Zareh I Payasilian, of blessed memory  (1956-1963) who loved the song.

Since then singing Cilicia-Giligia, has become a trademark of sorts or an unofficial hymn of the Catholicosate of Antelias whose seat for centuries was in Sis, in the historic Armenian Cilicia.

The hymn sung by the talented Steve Frounjian in Racine, WI.

The lyrics.

Giligia

"When doors of hope are opened wide,
And dreary winter flees away,
Our beauteous Armenia
Beams forth in glad and smiling day;
When swallows to their nests return
And trees put on their leaves so bright
I yearn for my Cilicia,
The land where first I saw the light.

I’ve seen the wide Vonarian fields
And cedar-clad Mount Lebanon,
Italian shores and Venice fair,
Where gondolas are gliding on;
There’s nothing like our Cyprian isle,
No spot on earth can be so bright,
I yearn for my Cilicia,
The and where first I saw the light.

There comes to each a time of life
When all our hopes have gone at last,
The poor soul longs and strives no more;
And dwells alone upon the past;
The, when my breaking harp, unstrung
Shall sing to hope a last good-night,
I’ll sleep in my Cilicia,
The land where I first saw the light.
The land where first I saw the light..."

Կիլիկիա

Երբոր բացուին դռներն յուսոյ
եւ մեր երկրէն փախ տայ ձմեռ
Չքնաղ երկիրն մեր Արմենիոյ
երբ փայլի իւր քաղցրիկ օրեր
Երբոր ծիծառն իւր բոյն դառնայ
երբոր ծառերն հագնին տերեւ՝
ցանկամ տեսնել զիմ Կիլիկիա
Աշխարհ՝ որ ինձ ետուր արեւ

Տեսի դաշտերն Սուրիոյ
Լեառն Լիբանան եւ իւր մայրեր
տեսի զերկիրն Իտալիոյ
Վենետիկ եւ իւր կոնտոլներ
կղզի նման չիք մեր Կիպրեայ
եւ ոչ մէկ վայր է արդարեւ
գեղեցիկ քան զիմ Կիլիկիա
Աշխարհ՝ որ ինձ ետուր արեւ

Հասակ մը կայ մեր կենաց մէջ
ուր ամենայն իղձ կ’աւարտի
Հասակ մը ուր հոգին ի տենչ՝
յիշատակաց իւր կարօտի
Յորժամ քնարն իմ ցրտանայ
սիրոյն տալով վերջին բարեւ՝
երթամ ննջել յիմ Կիլիկիա
Աշխարհ՝ որ ինձ ետուր արեւ

Thank You For Making me a Triumphant Blogger

Vahe H. Apelian

Blog,Blogging and blogger.

Merriam Webster dictionary defines blog as “a regular feature appearing as part of an online publication that typically relates to a particular topic and consists of articles and personal commentary by one or more authors”. Blog is used both as a noun and as a verb. As a verb blog means,” to write a blog”. That makes “blogging” the act and the person who wrote the blog, a “blogger”. 

The word blog is a relative newcomer into the English language lexicon. According to Wikipedia the term ‘blog” was first used as a noun and  as verb on April or May 1999. I became a blogger on March 4, 2017 when I posted my first article in my personal blog site I initiated on the same date. Little did I know then that my blog site would also tell me how many read a blog I posted and from where and how many times my blogs were read in total. 

This new word as a noun or as a verb is liberating because the “blogger”, in this instance I do not need to measure my blogs by a writer’s yardstick. There is also one fundamental aspect that all publishers have aspired to it, and that is to have their own voice, unconstrained by others. In fact, in hindsight, I realize that it is what Simon Simonian and  Antranig Zarougian achieved. They were masters of the  journals they published. Simon Simonian and Antranig Zarougian were the editors and the publishers of their weekly journals. The former’s was called “Spurk” and the latter’s was called  “Nayiri”. Surely, they were at the mercy of the readers of their journals, and naturally so. Without the subscription fees, they could not continue financing their weekly journals.  Fortunately, new technology has made my blog free. The only return I draw is the satisfaction seeing my blogs are read. 

As of today, my 278 blogs have been read for a grand total of 142,701 times by readers from Armenia to America and thence to Australia and in many countries in between.  In fact, the site does not assure that the blogs are actually read. It merely notes there are so many “page-views”. I assume a reader viewing a blog implies reading the blog. 

I thank all those who have opted to read my blogs instead of doing something else at that moment. Hopefully you found something there that made the time you devoted worthwhile.

And in doing so, you made me a triumphant blogger!

Գրիգոր Յովսէբեան`Հանգուցեալ Աներձագս

Անցեալները՝ թուղթերուս մէջ պատահմամբ հանդիպեցայ Գրիգոր Յովսէբեանին թաղման արարողութեան ընթացքին կարդացած թամբանականս, Մարտ 29, 2002-ին։ Կը կցեմ։

Գրիգորին, ինչպէս նաեւ եղբօրը Յովսէբին եւ քրոջը Մարիին, առաջին անգամ հանդիպեցայ թուականէս 35 տարիներ առաջ, 1967-ին երբ ես ու իրենց եղբայրը՝ Մովսէսը դեղագործութիւն ուսանելու առաջին տարուան ուսանողներ եղանք։ Շուտով մեր հանդիպումը վերածուեցաւ բարեկամութեան։

Գրիգորը այդ ժամանակ այն հայ տղոցմէն էր որոնք իրենց խանդավառ մասնակցութեամբ Լիբանահայ ազգային կեանքին եռանդ կուտային։  Որքան որ ան գոհացած էր իր շրջապաով բայց Լիբանանը իրեն համար պատշաճ ասպարէզի կարելիութիւն չէր ընծայեր, մանաւանդ որ Գրիգորը Սուրեացի էր հպատակութեամբ։ Այսպէս իր հեռանկարները կապելով այս Նոր Աշխարհին վրայ 1969-ին Ամերիկայ այցելութեան վիզայ ձեռք ձգեց հոն հաստատուելու հեռանկարով եւ այդպէս ալ ըրաւ։ երկու տարի ետք Ամերիկայ մնալու իրաւասութիւն ձեռք ձգեց շնորհիւ իր արհեստին՝ ոսկերչութիւն։ 1971-ին քոյրը՝ Մարին միացաւ իրեն որպէս ուսանողուհի եւ Ամերիկայի Հայ Աւետարանչական Ընկերակցութեան երաշխաւորութեան շնորհիւ, ան ալ Ամերիկա մնալու իրաւասութիւն ստացաւ։

1974-ին Լիբանան վերադարձաւ քրոջը հետ եւ ես պատեհութիւն ունեցայ երկուքին հետ ալ կրկին անգամ հանդիպելու։ Գրիգորը շատ տրամադրուած էր Ամերիկայով եւ կը սնուցանէր իր հեռանկարները։ 

Նիւ ճըրզիի մէջ Գրիգորը եւ Մարին մաս կազմած էին նորաստեղծ Հայ Մշակույթային Միւթեան որ հետաքային պիտի ըլլար Համազգայինի Նիւ Ճըրզիի մասնաճիւղը։ Երկուքն ալ մաս կազմած էին անոր երգի ու պարի պարախումբերուն ելոյթներուն։ Շնորհիւ իր ճկուն եւ կայտառ Ֆիզիքականին Գրիգորը դարձած էր պարախումբին գլխաւոր մենապարողներէն մին։ 

1975-ին եղբայրը Մովսէսը գաղթեց Ամերիկայ իր տիկնոջը հետ։ Շրջան մը միասնաբար ապրեցան նոյն տան մէջ։

1976-ին ես ալ Ամերիկայ գաղթեցի եւ կրկին անգամ հանդիպեցանք իրար Նիւ Ճըրզիի մէջ։ Նոյն տարին Մարին սիրայռժար ընդունից ամուսնութեամբ ընկերակցութեան իմ առաջարկս իրեն եւ տարի մը ետք  ամուսնացանք։ նոյն տարին՝ 1977-ին ծնողքն ալ միացաւ իրենց զաւակներուն եւ Մարիին հայրը պատեհութիւնը ունեցաւ ներկայացնել իր դուստրը ինծ, Նիւ Ճըրզիի Հայ Աւետարանական եղեցիին մէջ։

Գրիգորը եւ ծնողքը միասնաբար ապրեցան Նիւ Եորքի արուարձաններէն մէկուն միջ, ընդարձակ հողատարացք ունեցող տան մը մէջ։ Իր երազն էր ունենալ այդպիսի տուն մը  ուր պիտի կարենար ձի պահել եւ ուր պիտի կարնենար որսորդութիւն ընել, բան մը որ շատ կը սիրէր։ Շրջան մը այդպէս ալ ըրաւ։ նոյնիսկ հաւնոց մը պահեց  եւ բանջարեղէնի պարտէզ հասցուց հօրը հետ։ Մեասնաբար որսի գացինք եւ օր մըն ալ կրցաւ եղնիկ մը որսալ իր տան պատկան հողին վրայ։

Ասբարէզը կատարելագործած էր։ Արհեստէ աւելի արուեստի հասցուցած էր ոսկերչութեան իր հմտութիւնը։ Շրջան մը աշխատեցաւ աշխարհահրչակ Tiffany ոսկերչատան մէջ եւ ձեւաորեց եւ կաղապարեց աշխարհահրչակ Pablo Picasso-ին աղջկան գծած բարդ ոսկեղենները ընկերութեան համար։ Շատերը շատ հաւանաբար գոհացած պիտի ըլլային աշխատանքի նման պայմաններէն։ Բայց Գրիգորին իղձն էր ունենալ իր անձնական աշխատանոցը եւ իր անձնական հնարումները։

Ամուսնացաւ Սօնային հետ եւ ապա փոխադրուեցան Լոս Անճէլոս  ուր կ՚ապրէր Սօնային ծնողքը եւ հոն շարունակեց իր անձնական աշխատանքը։ Միասնաբար գոհացան իրենց առօրեայով բայց միշտ աշխատեցան վաղուան լաւագոյնին։

Նկարագրով խիզակ տղայ մըն էր։ Ինքնավստահ էր իր վաղուանը որքան որ համեստ ըլլար իր ներկան։ Քրիստոնավայել կենցաղ մը ունէր եթէ նկատի առնենք Տասնաբանեայ Պատուէրները որպէս հիմնաքարեր։ Ներքին թագուն ծալքեր չունէր։ Ա յն էր ինչ որ էր երեւութապէս։ Բացառիկ սէր եւ գուրգուրանք ունէր ծնողքին հանդէպ։ Հաւատարիմ ամուսին մը եղաւ Սօնային եւ հոգածու հայր մը իր զաւկին Մայքլին։ Աշխատասէր էր, հայկական ասացուածքով՝ քարէն հաց հանող մը տղայ մըն էր, ինչպէս նաեւ համեղ եւ  հոտով կերակուր պատրաստող մը։ կերակուրի դժուարահաճ քիմք մը ունէր։

Հայկական առածը կ՚ըսէ՝ «կեանքն իր ճամբով՝ մահը իր ճամբով»։ Այսկէ ետք Գրիգորին կեանքը երկնային բաներու հետ է։ Այսօր՝ Աւագ Ուրբաթ օրը կ՚ապրինք մահուան իրողութեանը հետ, այնպէս ինչպէս պիտի ապրինք Յարութեան իրողութեանը երկու օր ետք, կիրակի օր՝ Զակուան։  «Աստուած տուաւ եւ Աստուած առաւ» խօր համոզումով կը հաստատէ իր մայրը։ Այսպէս Գրիգորին ասհմանուած կեանքը այս երկրին վրայ իր լիութիւնը գտաւ։

Իսկ մենք ողճերս ենք որ պիտի ապրինք հարազատի մը բացակայութիւնը այսուհետեւ։ Եւ այդ բացակայութիւնը լրացնողը պիտի ըլլայ սէրը։ Մարին եւ ես կը միանանք ձեզի տածելով, ինչպէս անցեալին, նմանապէս գալիքին մեր սէրը եւ հոգածութիւն, եւ ազնիւ զգացումները Գրիգորին ընտանիքին ինչպէս նաեւ Գրիգորին մօրը՝ Տիկին Ալիսին։ Անցեալ երկու տարիներու ընթացքին ան կորսնցուց իր քոյրը Լիբանան, Եղբայրը Քանատա, զարմուհին Վիէննա։ Այս տխուր պարագային չի կրցաւ ապաւանիլ իր ֆիզիքական եւ զգացական տոկունութեանը եւ չկրցաւ համարձակիլ ընկերակցիլ ինծի։

Նոյն հարազատ զգացումներով կը մնանք Գրիգորին տիկնոջը Սօնային եւ իրենց զաւակին Մայքլին հետ որպէսզի այսուհետեւ մեզի սահմանուած տարիներուն ընթացքին շարունակենք հոգիով ապրիլ Ատտծոյ տուած բիւրաւոր պարգեւներէն մին որ մեզի ներկայացաւ յանձին Գրիգոր Միհրան Յովսէբեանին։

Վահէ Յ. Աբէլեան

Մարտ 29, 2002

Los Aneles

Remembering Hamasdegh’s Story In Lockdown: "Yerneg Ayn Oreroun”

Vahe H. Apelian

This lockdown is reminding me of one of Hamasdegh’s moving stories titled, “Yerneg Ayn Oreroun” (Երնէկ Այն Օրերուն). I will come to the story after a brief introduction of Hamasdegh as he remains etched in my memory.

I regard Hamasdegh as the towering storyteller of the Armenian village life. He captured the Armenian village for posterity. No other Armenian author I know came close to him in depicting the Armenia village and those admirable villagers. What also fascinates me is his imagination. Hamasdegh left his native land and came to America in 1913 when he was 18 years old and after having left their village to study in a small town for a few years. He left America only once, during 1928-30, and toured the Armenian communities. When he undertook his overseas trip, he had already published his masterpieces immortalizing the Armenian village and had secured for himself a special place in the Armenian literature and in the public’s imagination. He and the villagers he described in his two books titled “Village” and “Rain” became endearing characters. The stories he narrated and the villagers he described are figments of his literary imagination but they resonated with the readers as if they actually lived and toiled in that proverbial Armenian village only Hamasdegh  knew. 

Each of his stories uniquely describe an aspect of the village’s life. Among them  I have my favorites, although each story and each character  are unique and unforgettable. That story is titled Chalo. It is about men’s most faithful  canine, a dog name Chalo. I cannot envision that there can be a better and in more depth depiction of our faithful four-legged companion. Chalo was the village’s dog but it was a stray dog. It was wise, attentive to command and liked to keep company with the village’s elderly and hear the stories they told. Henceforth many Armenian families named and continue to name the  canine member of their family Chalo.

The title of the story that comes to my mind these days may be translated as  “Longing Those Days” or "Blissful By Gone Days" or maybe “Wishing for  Those Days”. The title in fact has become an expression in the Armenian lexicon and is often uttered whenever someone longingly reminisces of bygone days. Hamasdegh dedicated that story to Roupen Tarpinian, the longstanding eminent editor of “Hayrenik” Daily.

The story is about two elderly neighbors. Mnoush was a longtime widow who made a living by helping the villagers in their chores and lived next to Mkhsi and his wife Anneg. Their houses were next to each other. I envision that their houses shared a common wall, much like our grandparents’ house in Keurkune shared a common wall with the house next door. But their houses shared a common extended rooftop as well. A wall separated their courtyards. Mkhsi and Anneg were a happy couple. In their old age they were spared from work and watched their grandchildren grow. Unfortunately, Anneg died after a short illness. “After a month, Mkhsi forgot his wife, as all dead persons are forgotten;  but he never forgot his loneliness”, wrote Hamasdegh. 

It is then Mkhsi took a fancy of Mnoush. He went out his way to help her. He sat in his front yard waiting for Mnoush to come out of her house and do her chores. During such a moment Mkhsi approached Mnoush and remarked as how rosy her chicks looked arousing suspicion in Mnoush, and another time Mkhsi offered to give her a bag of freshly harvested wheat, without his son knowing it. The offer raised alarm bells in Mnoush and gave way to an ongoing bickering between the two over their chickens crossing into the other’s yard, or his grandchildren playing on Mnoush's roof, or whether Mnoush had the water sprout deliberately moved towards Mkhsi’s yard. When the village’s priest gave communion to Msnoush, Mkshsi ceased going to church against the priest’s pleas. No one understood the root cause of their animosity, not even Mkshi’s son but the villagers accepted it as normal course in their lives but Mkhsi knew that in his old age, over fifty, he should not have said and suggested what he did.

There came upon them the dark days and the villagers were forced out caravan after caravan. And amidst the death marches they met each other. “Mkhsi and Mnoush fell into each other’s arms crying like two little children.” Hamasdegh wrote,  “Mkshi, barely held himself, took his red handkerchief, wiped the tears from his eyes and said: “e~h Mnoush, longing for those days”.

I lived almost the first two years of the Lebanese civil war. There, we also locked ourselves in the safest corner of our houses as war raged on, bullets flew and bombs fell. But I did not feel as confined as I do now. The enemy there was in the open. To fare the ordeal, the neighbors of our 30 units building, often came together confining ourselves in a lower level corridor or in a basement room. But this lockdown is different. The deadly enemy is not seen, nor heard. It is lurking somewhere or maybe everywhere. It might even be within us waiting to ambush persons next to us so we have to keep a distance between us. A paradoxical term has come about, “Social Distancing”. How can one be social but remain apart?  This onslaught is different.

Yes, I will have to admit, I also miss the mundane life I lived a short while ago. Whether it was going to church, attending a men’s club dinner, having a coffee with a friend in Panera Bread, or  taking a weekend off somewhere. Those mundane happenings have now assumed a significance that had alluded me all along and altogether.  Surely, like anything else, this will end somehow and sometime. But when I meet my favorite cousin, not that I do not favor the others,  we will not fall in each other’s arms and give each other a bear hug and utter what Mkhsi uttered to Mnoush, that we too, in turn, long the days of our lives a short while ago. Yes, we will not bring ourselves to do that, God only knows for how long, or maybe for the rest of our lives.