Messiah islate
L. Khachatrian


You never said what made you become aChristian. The cold smile stayed on his face. Arshak himself did not expect that he would get so much pleasure from throwing the reality into the priests face. So, what made you doit? The longing, the priests big eyes looked straight as if they stroke. The smile disappeared from Arshaks face. He headed towards the door. The priest called afterhim. When Christ comes the second time No one will recognize him, roared Arshak and left the church.





Messiah islate

L. Khachatrian



L. Khachatrian,2015

Alla Aristakesyan, translation,2015



Created with intellectual publishing system Ridero




Chapter1





The Panther


The bare-skinned boy was running so fast that from the lashes ofthe wind his body had become bruised. The chest ofthe mount was rising up and down inparallel with the tranquil breath ofthe earth. He felt it throughout his body. Inthe far he could see the jagged cliffs bulged like an old mans denture and could understand that it was time tobe transformed.

There was apit infront ofhim. The boy slowed down for awhile, took abreath, and then ran so fast that his chest tore apart from the middle. He shoved himself onward. Jump. His muscles strained. An instant. His bones were clattering seethingly inhis body. The fangs were lengthening with pain. Short fur was growing on his skin. Descent. He growled and already apanther he leaped ahead. The wounded wind like alame dog was barely crawling afterhim.




On theRoad


Everything is more complicated, the Teacher liked torepeat. And when he saw that the students were looking at each other confused, he added, Dont take toheart, we are all going todie one day. He repeated this worn-out phrase insuch aself-satisfactory way, as if he was tolive forever. Arshak would believe it, if he was not present at the Teachers funeral. Even there, inthe atmosphere oftears and sorrow, it seemed that the white-bearded Teacher, who was wearing black suit, would soon rise up and announce that the funeral is over; It was just an experiment. Thanks toeveryone, all are free now.

When the body was buried, he remembered the Teachers mutter: He exists; the old man definitely exists He was talking about God when he was drunk, as if he was trying toconvince himself. Now, you will surely know, which part ofyour lectures was true and which was not.



The Teachers name was celebrated among the Faculties ofTheology ofall world-famous universities. Over thirty years he studied faith and world religions. He learnt alot about men and nothing about God. And why did he die? The Teacher left this world all ofasudden, leaving incomplete the research works ofhis 12students. Besides, he had promised toselect three best students from the group after the holidays and take them tothe Holy City, so they could see with their own eyes how the faithful performed pilgrimage, or, as he used tosay, how religion deformed the brain. Nevertheless, Arshak did not expect tobe inthe selected trio. He never stood out during the classes.

It was no longer important. Under the balanced clatter ofthe train Arshak was burning his last cigarette. It was the last one, as he was returning home. Although it was already 2years he was oflegal age, he would not smoke infront ofhis family. His mother would not criticize, but would get upset if she learnt.

Is there any extra seat? ayoung man looked inside from the half open door ofthe wagon. For amoment Arshak got confused. He was deep inhis thoughts and it felt like he was caught smoking. He looked at the intruded head and cooledoff.

Yes. he answered with aformal smile.

The guest was one ofthe heroes ofthe Theological Faculty. It was his classmate-Gregory. Arshak knew that they both were from the same town, but they had never been friends. Gregory was avigorous and energetic boy. He was also very smart. Arshak always wondered how he could manage everything. Undoubtedly, Gregory was closer with the Teacher. They had even written ascientific paper together. Arshak always felt himself awkward when Gregory was around and tried tobe out ofhis way. This time, however, nothing could be done. They were fellow citizens, the holiday season had started for both and they both had bought the same train ticket. While Gregory roomed his stuff, Arshak quickly opened the Bible which he had at hand and pretended tobe reading.



Gregory sat infront ofArshak.

Gospels?

New Testament well The Genealogy ofJesus, the Gospel ofMatthew.

Not so difficult topic, said Gregory. No, dont look at me like that. Imean literature is unlimited on that topic; you will have no lack ofreferences.

Gregory stretched his whole body and yawned for too long. His eyes were still smiling, but he did not say anything else.

He was atall, broad-shouldered boy. He had accented eyes with thick eyelashes and high eyebrows. His brown hair was styled and shiny and he had high forehead. He was dressed neatly. There was no single extra fold on his white shirt. Sitting infront ofArshak inthe wagon one could see the contrary ofthe two. Arshaks messy black curls fell down on his eyebrows and almost covered his almond-shaped eyes. The boy had not shaved for several days. Tracks ofdried mud could be seen on his jeans and brutal sports shoes. His black leather coat did not look novel atall.

When Gregory took abook out ofhis suitcase, Arshak noticed, that even his book smelled fresh. The pages ofthe book crunched when browsing through; probably he had just bought it. The shabby and crumpled Bible that was inArshaks hands looked quite poor.



Iknow the place you live quite well, said Gregory inthe evening. He took two bottles ofbeer from his suitcase, Here! It is not cold, but anyway

Arshak smiled and tookit.

Iknow many people from your neighborhood. Both my brother and Iused togo there quite often. Together with the district boys we used tobeat up the Christian children that lived there. But Idont remember you

Well Iwas mainly at church, Arshak took asip. Iwanted tobecome apriest.

Gregorys loud laughter filled the wagon.

Inthe end you took the opposite camp, didnt you?

Well yes, it seems, Arshak tried tosmile.

There used tobe alot offollowers ofthat dead religion inyour district

Not any more. Few are left.

Are you also aChristian?

Iam ascientist future scientist

Isee. You dont like tales, do you?

Idont.

Neither do I. But Ibelieve inGod. Have you read the Holy book, Revelation of7prophets?

About ten times, Arshak smiled bitterly. After all, its not thick, 30pages

Indeed, the truth is never long and fuzzy.



And meaningless, thought Arshak, but preferred toremain silent.



Gregory frowned.



Igot it. You are probably one ofthose scientists who believe the holy revelation is what is left tohumanity from so-called world religions. That view is flawed.



Gregory paused, as if waiting that Arshak would argue, but he heard nothing and continued.



Ancient religions contradicted each other, sometimes were contradictory tonature, and sometimes were apile ofinhuman texts. It was so complicated and confusing Especially the Bible; every word, even my grandfathers swearing, can be attributed tothat book. Inthe end, everything can be found inthat enormous tale, which once again proves that it contains incomplete notes ofcompletely different people ofdifferent periods that have nothing todo with each other. Or, maybe the link was very weak. And people decided toconnect everything and declared that this is the true word ofGod



Arshak said nothing. He sipped from the bottle.



Well, said Gregory. Why Ieven keep on disturbing you? We have our life and should stop running after the dead God.



And silence.



Atoast tothe memory ofthe Teacher, murmured Gregory.

Arshak raised the bottle ofbeer.

Cheers

Gregory fell into thoughts. Arshak noticed that though he also tried toawaken memories, he felt some sort ofemptiness. He was just listening tothe sound ofthe even course ofthe train.

Listen! suddenly Gregory got excited. Were you hoping tobe among the selected three?

Ihave not thought about it, Arshak lied.

But Ihave. Totell the truth, once he himself mentioned tome that Iwill definitely be among the three. But now, as we will be going with someone else, Idont feel like going.



Silence.



Would you like togo instead ofme?

Arshak got confused for amoment, then forced himself tosmile.

Thank you. There is no need. Ihave other plans.



Gregory emptied his bottle ofbeer and abruptly changed the subject.

He talked about his twin brother for very long. Even their mother could hardly distinguish them. He complained about the economic and moral condition ofthe country. He told that his brother had flung himself into politics. He would definitely get into trouble one day. Then Gregory recalled his childhood; how two brothers together with friends beat up the boys inArshaks district. They had beaten everyone up, but Areg, as the latter, even though it was rather strange, was his brothers close friend.



Istill cant understand what he had found inthat wordless stupid boy. He was monstrous, like awild beast. If it was left up tome, we would tear him up first.



Arshak was not listening.




Return


Atown holding its breath from ceasefire. The mountains folded their hands on their chest followed from all four sides. The forests engrossed the slopes the way the sloppy beard darkened the face ofFedayi.



The wind, rolling down from the mountains, falls into the belly ofthe town. It curls up on the spot like afrightened snake. It fills the streets with the sniff ofalready extinct bullets. Atown huddled from ceasefire. The morning yawns. The sour light ofthe sun glides through the brownish buildings and through the flat walls. Tattered tuff. Sweat frozen intheair.

Atown furious from the ceasefire.



Arshak closed the book. This Collection ofProse Thoughts was the first thing he bought when he reached his native town. The authors name was Abel Gichunts. He bought the book, because awoman believer praising the name ofOne God asked Arshak, if he wanted toget the collection ofprose poems bythat famous godless writer. The chubby shop assistant assured that the book would be useful. The young party members would formally be burning the books ofthat damned writer inthe town square that night. Dont you also want tothrow abook into the fire? Arshak laughed, Ido.



The small town located inthe outskirts ofone ofthe most powerful empires was averitable museum. It was one ofthe unique places where one could still find Christians; areligion, that had long been considered dead. The World War on Faith burnt the humanity and forever silenced the prayers. The world saw new prophets that were unanimously telling about One God. The new God did not have aname, did not have complicated commandments; there was only one thin booklet, where the prophets had written how atrue believer ought tolive. That was it simple, convenient and understandable. And the humanity started tobelieve init. Started tolove it. They started towrite One God is withus on the walls ofempires and capitals ofsmall countries. Then, ofcourse, the hunting ofthe followers ofancient religions began. The leaders ofChristian church, and later the ordinary followers, were sentenced and many were publicly burned on fire on behalf ofOne God. Islam resisted longer than others, but inthe end One God took the victory. Now hardly about 100thousand Christians could be counted inthe world. They lived indifferent corners ofthe world split and hating each other. The same could be said about the followers ofother ancient religions. They were also mainly tearing each others throats insmall groups. Arshaks birthplace had become one ofthose unique corners ofthe world that donated delusion ofself-esteem tothe followers ofthe dead religions. An almost ruined church had remained near Arshaks house; two priests were serving there one was an alcoholic, the other was tiresome. The walls ofthe church had become black from the many small fires organized bythe fan-followers ofOne God, and the dome was partly covered bythe grass that had grown from the clefts ofrocks. Nevertheless, every Sunday the priests called the people toliturgy. Sometimes even worshipping ceremonies were held. Arshak lived inadistrict populated mainly byChristians,




AtHome


		Our Father inheaven,
		Hallowed be your name.
		Your kingdom come

Arshak was going toknock, but when he heard the prayer from the inside he held his breath. Seconds later he realized what was happening at home and angrily kicked the door. His mother opened the door. Atiny, thin woman looked at his son with alonging stare. She had not seen him for about two years. She asked him tocome inside with ahand gesture.

You have brought apriest, havent you? Arshak couldnt hide his anger. He sat on the very first chair and began totake off his shoes with nervous movements. His mother was silent. The peaceful prayer ofthe priest was heard from inside the room.

It turns out that all the doctors ofthe city have died, gabbled theboy.

The doctor has seen her.

And?

He said that Ani is fine. But perhaps after fathers death She has psychological problems

And you decided tobring apriest! Arshak growled.



The praying voice became silent.



The word ofGod heals souls, you could barely hear his mothers voice, but there was tenacity insideher.

Arshak became even angrier.

You talk like acave dweller The word ofGod. Should we burn afire inthe house and start jumping around it? Maybe it will help

Dont say that, my son, its asin

Arshak opened the door ofthe room. The bed ofher seven year old sister, Ani, was next tothe window, so inthe far she could see the vibrating lights ofthe city while lying. But her eyes were not open today. The girl was thin and pale. She looked like her mother. The priest, who was about forty years old, was sitting next tothe child. His gown was black, his eyes were big and round and he looked worried.

When Arshak entered the room, his sister opened her eyes. She looked at her brother, smiled lightly. The boy swallowed his anger and went up tothe bed. The priest immediately stood up and gave his place totheboy.

Hi, Ani, whispered Arshak. How are you?

Fine, meowed the girl.

Ihave brought interesting books for you.

This time her smile was truly happy.

What has happened? Mother says you dont feel well.

Iam fine.

Arshak cast acold glance at the priest. He could feel that he was starting toget angry again.

Then why is this man reading aprayer? the question was addressed more tothe black-dressed man, who tightly squeezed the torn Bible inhis hands.

So they keep silent, whispered Ani with trembling voice.

They?

The Dragons, there was horror inAnis eyes.

Tremor went through Arshaks body. He looked again at the priest, barely kept himself from hitting him. They will make this child crazy.

What Dragons, my dear Ani?

Under the ground. They are complaining. Crawling. They are annoyed bythe noise, bythe trains they dont like that clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clickety-clack.

The girls eyes were intears.

Arshak tightly hugged his sister. Looked at the priest.

Dont worry. Iwill kick the dragon out right away.




Chapter2





The Priest


And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and saide vnto her, Weepenot.

And hee came and touched the beere; and they that bare him, stood still. And he said, Yong man, Isay vnto thee, Arise.

And he that was dead, sate vp, and began tospeake



The priest looked at the believers. They showed indifference. They were deep inthoughts. Some were asleep. Even the old neighbors eyes were closed. Boredom. The priest closed the book. His breath faltered. He failed the Bible Readings again.







The ears ofthe big dog lying at the porch were swaying along the noise. His nostrils widened from the sigh ofthe wind. His eyes followed the passers-by.

It was quite hot summer. When walking, people kept their mouths open. The dogs muzzle was always closed. Peoples clothes changed the color from sweat and dust. The dog was always as white as snow. His skin was so soft that when touching it you would fall asleep. It was beautiful.

Gampr has been living inthat small town for already ayear. None ofthe locals had heard him bark yet. As large and muscled as alion the dog spent the whole day lying at the porch. The dog was always wearing awhite sleeveless shirt made ofthick fabric. His owner dressed him. But why, no one understood. But the neighbors were ashamed toask, as Gamprs owner was the priest.

Ayear ago, on one rainy day, the almost-forty-years-old man entered the yard with his dog. Everyone respected him, but tried not toattend his sermons. The priest was not able totalk persuasively. It was irritating people. And as arule, people became more demanding at church.



Unlike the priest, Gampr interested everyone, especially children. Many ofthem would come tothe priests place with different excuses tosee the dog. Gampr was indifferent. He was neither barking, nor licking. Ani, the neighbors daughter, also loved the dog very much. With the other neighbor, papa Torgom, she came every week tohelp with the priests garden work. The neighbor papa was snowy-haired and silent like Gampr. While he checked the priests saplings, the girl sat infront ofGampr on the ground and watchedhim.



Suddenly Gampr raised his snout. He saw the master.



Ani, have you come tosee your friend again? asked the priest. Passing byAni, he gently stroked her head and went into the house. It was hot. He was tired. He would sleep.

The girl understood, that papa Torgom had finished his work and was waiting for her outside. Keeping her eyes on the dog, she put astep back, ran out and took papas hand.







Inthe evening the old neighbor came again tohelp the priest. He was silent during working. He was silent during the dinner as well. Then he decided tospeak. He was nervous and worried.

The whole night he was thinking what tosay, how tosay. But now the words were fleeing and the thoughts were scattering.

Father, he stammered. Ihave been thinking alot Ithink, you must give up the dog.

The neighbor looked at Gampr with fear. The dog was indifferent.

You were telling that you have found him inthe mountains. Lets take him back. What do you think, Father?

The priest sighed.

Ihave neither awife, nor achild. Without the dog Iwill stay alone

You wont, the old man got excited. The priest will never stay alone. God is always with you.

The priest looked strayed at the dog sitting at the corner. He wanted someone other than God tobe withhim.

Gampr liked his muzzle self-complacently. The priest was looking at his blue, crystal eyes and as if inthe mirror could see astrange man. He was reserved and silent, he could hide Gamprs secret under the knitted woolen shirt. He was able torescue what he did not understand. The priest had never seen such reflection ofhis own merits. He knew that ingeneral whoever the man looked at, whatever he looked at and wherever he looked at, he saw himself. Previously, the priest looked at his son and could see the father. But then, the father-priest reflection diminished. It then disappeared.

The priest constantly repeated inmind, The world is amirror for men. And the simplest mirror is the pain. Here, everyones reflection is beautiful. Even the most villainous person is weak infront ofthe pain. The bigger the pain-mirror, the weaker and more helpless is the man. And the pain ofthe weak becomes smaller; it is easy toforgive the weak and it is difficult tojudge the weak. He came tohis senses. He understood that his thoughts had begun toprogress inawrong, apocryphal direction. He took abreath. He looked at the dog sitting under the window guarding the silence like Sphinx. He restrained.



Gamprs eyes were as peaceful as the battlefield after the war; amoment when nothing matters; when the interests, heroism and even gods are retreating. And the sweaty tiredness wins.

Gampr yawned.




Yeghishe


Usually the things you avoid are the things you get confronted with. Yeghishe knew this absurd formula well. Inhis entire conscious life he had strived for an honest, you can say spotless patriotism. He was always against various movements, groups and especially political parties splitting the nation. Yeghishes father was not Christian, but had fought against the extremist groups ofOne God for the sake ofChurch. His father liked repeating that when patriotism was mixed with politics everything started tosmell like gangrene. That smell had also flushed into Yeghishes childhood.

Before dying Yeghishes father lost his two legs; one then the other. He left only his opinion about the national values and pure patriotism tohis sons. As aresult, Yeghise was now sitting inone ofthe city pubs with his two friends ofthe same political party.

Have you read the book, Andok asked excitedly. He was about twenty years old, with sun-parched skin, freckled, skinnyboy.

Sorry? Yeghishe woke back tolife.

Where have you been, brother, smiled the dark-skinned, short-heighted Khoren. How many times should we repeat the question?

Iwas thinking, answered Yeghishe indifferently. So, what book?

The one written bythat idiot, Abel Gichunts, said Khoren.

He has definitely made up his name coward, Andok interrupted.

Right, agreed Khoren. But the fact is that his books deprave the society.

What does he write? Yeghishe emptied his beer and with agesture asked the waiter torepeat.

Well, first he talks too much about Christianity, as if it is the foundation ofour identity

Insome sense it is true, smiled Yeghishe looking at the empty bottom ofhis beer glass. Like paganism, Christianity was apart ofour history, thus also ofour identity

Yes, but it was, protested Andok. When he was angry, his skin became more flushed. The times have changed now. Besides, the Christianity has been distorted inhis books as well. That idiot quotes from some false gospels

The priest used tosay a-po-cry-phal,  interrupted Khoren with aserious look.

Yes right, continued Andok. Moreover, the priest also joins our strife. He says that because ofthe writers like Gichunts, the world has wrong impression about Christianity.

Sneer appeared on Khorens face.

Iwould argue about it with the priest. After all, Chritianity was barbarism. Good that it no longer exists

My grandmother was Christian but not barbarian, suddenly roared Yeghishe with his gruff voice.

Well, ofcourse, sobered up Khoren. Iam not talking about individuals. We all know that because ofthat ancient inhuman religions millions ofpeople have been killed. And this would continue till today if there was no true prophecy.

And the government, winked Andok.

Glory toOne God, agreed Khoren.

Yeghishe emptied another glass ofbeer.

Guys, we have got off the subject. Lets discuss grandparents faith later. We have another problem; Gichunts depraves national and social values with his texts

Which you have definitely read from the beginning tothe end, with indifferent gesture Yeghishe ordered another glass ofbeer. Andok and Khoren looked at each other.

Ihave lightly looked through it, stammered Andok. Nonsense.

The cover ofthe book is enough for you tounderstand that it is not worth reading, continued Khoren.

Narek has read it, suddenly remembered Andok.

Right, rejoiced his friend.

Iknow, Khoren admitted grimly.



He really did know and understood far more than those two scatterbrained. Narek was the one tostart the youth party movement against Abel Gichunts. He was the one that did not like the ideas ofthe towns famous ostentatious writer. Infact, Yeghishe thought, that though there was nothing tolike inhis texts, only stupidity ofthe literature would not force Narek toshake off the city. He had other far-reaching objectives. Gichunts was scandalous and famous writer. The protest movement started against him would keep the lost towns youth wing ofthe National Party, especially Narek, inthe center ofattention ofpress. He would declare that he was fighting against scabrous people like Gichunts, but infact he would be inthe center ofmedia. Everyone would get torecognize him. Then, he would be noticed bythe head office ofthe National Party, especially bythe party leaders, who were also members ofthe big Parliament.



They have mentioned several times that they want torenew the party, give it anew breath. Narek had told Yeghishe afew days before. They are looking for new faces, new names. If they noticeus, they will definitely askus togo tothe capital; me, with my small team, where you also will certainly be included, brother.

Idont think that the noise raised against awriter will be enough for it, Yeghishe had objected.

Those are details. Do you remember one ofthe leaders ofthe party, Mr Isaiah, who visited our town last summer?

The one that promised torebuilt the Christian church?

Yes.

And he didnt

Not Yet. He will definitely. He liked me very much. He said, that the Big Parliament needed true patriots likeus. Isaiah is considered tobe the second person inthe party. He promised when the time comes he himself will introduce our names tothe leader. We just need tomake some noise here. You know, he needs areason totalk aboutus



Yeghishe did not say anything that day. He was silent this evening as well.

While half-drunk Andok and Khoren were disputing about who would be the first tobreak Abel Gichuntss fingers, Yeghishe emptied another glass ofbeer. The broad-shouldered, big-eyed boy with aheavy sight did not look his age, but older. Feeling light dizziness, he stood up, without looking the check he threw money on the table and went out ofthepub.

Inthe evening the town air had become sort ofsweet. The light wind brought pieces ofan old liberal song sung byabeggar inthe far. The inflections ofhis odd voice were increasing Yeghishes dizziness.

Damn, he muttered. The beer was disgusting.

Yeghishe staggered home. The beggars voice was slowly receding; from the veer ofthe wind the voice was abrading, becoming subtle and turning into asoft voice coming from the lattice ofcradle. Inhis head, Yeghishe could hear his grandmothers sole song sung inan early sunnyday.

		God withus, revealed inus,
		And heard was the sound ofpeace,
		And gave command ofholy greet




Collision


Inthe morning, after looking for five minutes at the breakfast, Arshak, with an empty stomach, with the newspaper page titled job vacancies folded inhis hand ran out tothe street. He took adeep breath; it seemed tohim if he stayed at home for afew more seconds he would suffocate. His lungs swelled up from the smell ofthe ancient town. With his head looking down he went up the narrow street ofthe Christian district. His eyes followed the straight steps ofhis feet. He did not raise his head up; he wanted tosee nothing inbetween the craggy houses. If he was lucky he would not see anyone who would stop him and start asking about university life for hours.

But suddenly he stopped. He heard the bells ofthe sole dilapidated church ofthe town. He raised up his head, smiled. This trick would work even millennia later. The bells call for the men; does not matter when and whom. Arshak entered the church. He felt the smell ofthe incense. He approached the grimed saint image that had almost merged with the wall. He took his folded notebook and the pencil that was smaller than his little finger from his coat pocket and started todraw. The boy was thinking that the image would soon disappear, at least the copy would be kept, for only afew dozen saint images were left inthe world, while there was atime.

Hello, Arshak.

The boy was caught off balance. It was as though the priest appeared from nowhere. It was the same thin man whom Arshak had driven out ofthe house afew days ago. Arshak noticed that the priest looked as exhausted as his church. He too will soon disappear.

Good afternoon, uttered Arshak indifferently. He continued drawing.

Son, the priest addressed tohim.

Iam not your son, answered Arshak without taking his eyes away from the paper.




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