About the author:
– Born in
– Graduated from
– Has been working as a teacher of Armenian Literature and language for many years.
– During the last 5-7 years she has written 2 books (awaiting publication)
– She has signed many articles in newspapers and magazines in
The green chameleon
As I looked out I exclaimed, “Oh my God, there is so much work to do in our garden.”
Suddenly, I heard a noise (more like a whisper) from the green grasses. A small and very green, chameleon has climbed up on a big stone behind our house and was gazing at me.
I was very amazed and also delighted by his (or it's) beauty and braveness. He seemed to whisper to me. “I've seen you a lot and followed you and I'm very happy you've come here and you're working in this garden you are welcome.”
I was even afraid for a moment. He opened and closed his eyes as if he wanted to say, “Don't be afraid you are so big and I am so small how can I hurt you?”
I think I read his thoughts and whispered to him,”You're so nice and mysterious, let's be friends,” and then I slowly approached him.
I was trembling, but couldn't resist the temptation to see him closely. He looked on his right then on his left quickly, put out his tongue and in a second turned his tail and entered under the stone.
“Oh, you beauty, come out please, I want to see you again,” I said to the chameleon with a half unbelieving and humorous voice. I stretched out my hand and saw him looking at me from under the stone.
I pleaded with him, “Come out! I will not catch you nor hurt you.”
After waiting a moment, I continued my work in the garden. The chameleon was on the stone again and it seemed as if he was looking at me and smiling. It seemed there was warmth in his eyes. My heart was filled with such kindness and caring and I told him, “Stay with me a while, my little one and see how I work. I think it will be interesting for you.” And I looked around to be sure nobody heard me.
The chameleon brought his small hands up to his mouth, as if wanted to squeeze his nose and mouth, then he half opened his mouth, looked around and breathing with hiS stomach, turned towards me.
Every now and then, I was raising my head and looking at that small creature, the green chameleon, and was feeling happy to have a living creature here as a friend.
“Sweety-Greeriy, shall I fetch you worms to eat?”, I asked him with a small voice and put the worms on that big stone.
“It's a pity I don't have any idea what the chameleon eats.”
He entered under the stone and did not even take a look at the worms. During that day the same encounters would repeatedly happen several times with this chameleon.
The singing coolness was coming down from the mountains and wrapping itself around us; hugging us and God's world. Almost unconscious, I fell on the bed and was not feeling anything but tiredness. I fell asleep so deeply that when I awoke in the morning, it seemed to me that I had just gone to bed.
Soon I was out in the garden again and I started to dig the ground and clean the dead, old leaves from the garden. I couldn't get Sweety-Greeny out of my mind and I couldn't stop gazing at the stone, awaiting his appearance.
“Aha, there you are my little one,” I said joyously to the chameleon who was once again on the stone.
He again opened and closed his eyes quickly turned his neck first to left then to right and then turned his glance towards me. There was a small insect on the grass near the stone and in a split second he put out his tongue and caught it. I watched the scene with wonder and curiosity while he looked at me and swallowed it.
Each day the chameleon grew accustomed to me and we became tied to one another. He was becoming more and more brave with me. “Dear Greeny, let me hold your small hand.” I said as I stretched out my thumb and fore finger and slowly approached him.
He allowed me to come closer. When I touched his small hand, my body trembled for fear of hurting him, but I resisted and held it.
Days passed by.
I brought a small cat to my house which in several months became a rather large Cat. Never did I realize that this cat would be so jealous of Sweety-Greeny.
It was summer time and one of the very hot days. I was sitting with my son in the garden and talking. Suddenly, the cat came with the chameleon in its mouth! The cat looked at us and threw the chameleon from its mouth and it landed in front of our feet, and then ran away.
“My dear Greeny. It is such a pity that now you're not with me.”
The complaint of the unborn child
Prologue: My mother got pregnant for me, her ninth child at a late age in life and she was the wife of the ruler of our village. This is an account of the events leading to my birth.
“Oh, my Lord; Oh, my Jesus, the King of all Kings and the Lord of the Universe. You wished for me to survive and be born and so I was.”
But, here is what preceeded my birth…
I was my mother's ninth child and the undesirable one. “Jesus, how terribly she beat me, her poor unborn babe.”
She hit my head, legs and back and got angry and hit me again and again. Although, being conscious of the signs of life that I gave, she lit a fire with straw and stones and began to boil a big pot of water.
The steam heated my mother's abdomen and it burnt me. It burnt my back, my little legs, arms and head; I was boiled and roasted but kept on living. Living, for the Almighty protected me.
And, mother hit me again and again, making me turn round and round in her womb. “Oh, my God; my dear mother; why do you beat me so? I want to live. 1 want to be born into the world to see the people”, I cried. But my mother never answered me.
She wished I would never be born. She was ashamed that at her age she was pregnant; that her other eight children were already grown up persons and this was her condition. She was also ashamed because her daughter-in-law was also pregnant at this same time.
Again she punched and hit me watching her belly with suspense and hoping I would not show any signs of life and that all would eventuate in my lifeless birth. But, it never happened.
I couldn't stay motionless and in a while I began to move again. I was happy at the thought that I was still alive and that I must be born to see the world, the people and all the creations of God. Thus, my joyful movements gave my mother great pains.
“There was nothing you could do to stop this dear Mother” I said. “My Lord protected me and prevented me from being stillborn”.
My elder sister looked at Mother from the outside world and exclaimed, “God knows what a horrible creature he's going to be”. Of course I heard my mother replying. “Oh”, she sighed, “That's what I say. Alas I have to agree with you”.
Perhaps she felt sorry for me at that moment but on the next day, she was sure to think of some new way of performing a miscarriage. And that made both of us struggle, me to survive and my mother to put her newest plan into execution.
“Okay,” I thought, “dear Mother. But what difference does it make if you have nine or eight children? Why are you so much against me? And, anyway, you are powerless in this matter. It is not your wish but God's that I should be born”. I was thinking this with my eyes closed and with a pleased smile upon my face.
“Why do you think I will be a horrible child to you? Wait until I am born and a bit older and you will love me so much. All of my family will; my daddy, my seven brothers and my sister…”
“There is nothing you can do. I have to endure and wait for my birth time to come…9 days, 9 hours, 9 minutes and 9 seconds are all that is left.”
It was Friday and a part of the class was absent. The desks were empty and the teachers were missing too. We had a class for an hour and then it was time for break.
I was sitting gloomy and sad. Then Souren's father came looking for him and unable to find him. He opened the door of our classroom and asked where he was. I realized it was difficult to walk from one village to another and get to the place in time.
Finally his father found him and when Souren's father saw his son, he took him away by the hand. They were talking for two hours. He was explaining something to him and it was not until later that I learned what it was.
Souren was was in love with a girl and that influenced the quality of his education. His father was trying to explain that it was not a good time for love.
After many, many years I met Souren again. He had white hair and a respectable appearance, so that I hardly recognized my classmate. “Souren dear, is that you? How are you?”
“I' m well,” he greeted me and in his answer I felt yearning, a lost story, a regret connected with me.
A love story, the heroine of which was me, but I did not know nor realize that before.
“How are your children and wife?”, I asked thinking natural that he'd be married.
“My dear Zaruhi, I don't have children and I'm not married,” he replied to me.
Then looking into my eyes he said with an excited and trembling voice, “I could never marry. When I first felt love in my life, my father killed that feeling in me. That was the biggest tragedy of my life. I could hardly bear it. I even got sick. Then I devoted myself to education. I met a lot of women in my life but I could not forget my first love. So, I stayed without family.”
His eyes grew sad and I saw drops of tears in them. Then he took my hand, lifted it to kiss it, but hurriedly changed his mind, shook my hand and went away.
I stayed where I was. In a moment I (in my mind) went back for thirty-five years. I remembered him at school, his father coming to him and trying to explain him something.
It was then that I understood everything. I was his love, and he could not forget and forgive his father or himself.