Translated from Serbo-Croatian to English by Edward Alexander
The lowest temperature ever to have been reached was at the
University of Tokyo in February 1983. With the aid of a special
device, the temperature was recorded at 0.0003 Kelvin. This means
that they were really close to absolute zero, Oo Kelvin, equivalent
to -273.16o Celsius. Science considers that it is not possible to
achieve absolute zero since even atomic motion ceases at this
point.
1.IVITA SICUT METAPHORA
1.
At the very last moment, Ida remembered she might succeed at
reaching Mrs Anera and Mr Antonio Sforza, so she stops to listen
down the staircase but doesn't hear any sound whatsoever coming
from downstairs, and at the same time she thought that they'd
probably already left the villa, but at the very same moment, like
a spring which had till then been coiled, she rushes towards the
lift with all her strength, flings open the iron doors, runs
inside and presses the lowest button for the ground-floor, after
which point she feels the downwards slide, and then frantically
turns to face the mirror, observing herself in it with a
particular grimace which she would usually make whenever she was
in a hurry, pouting her lips with the tip of her tongue, and then,
just a moment later, she started flirting with a well-rehearsed
film-star smile à la Greta Garbo, as though at that moment she was
stood in front of dozens of flashing cameras, and thought, God,
it's going to be a real gala without those two mummies in this
three-floored Taj Mahal for a whole month while they're in
America, having been invited there by some old man, who's simply
rolling in money and boredom just like these two stiffs, the
Yankee wanting to repay them for his stay here last year with that
furniture of his my wife Newmann mon cher enfant, just a drop more for my wife,
but “my wife” weighs as much as a pubescent elephant, oh-oh, when
I just remember how much junk that “my wife” left behind, oh, God,
just thinking about it, I can't believe such decent people, who
prefer to speak about Gluck and Gershwin than about the numerous
price-hikes and shit that inflates quicker than the Lira, because
these are such Lumpenproletariat topics, precisely that these
sorts of ghosts should leave so much rubbish all around
themselves, behind themselves, beneath themselves, so bloody much
of it that it was as nocuous as the streets of New York after the
dustmen went on strike, so much so that I once dared to tell Mrs.
Anera: No! Discreetly enough that theoretically she couldn't have
heard me while she was doing her embroidery in the next-door room,
I at least told her everything openly in my mind, that for the
money which they pay not a single living soul would clean up what
Mr Sir and Mrs Madam had shat out over the course of those days,
so, I said it, she should know, let it be known, my dear Madam,
and she said to me, you know what, Signorina Ida, these people
would drown in their own shit if they couldn’t pay anyone to clean
it all up after them, then the lady took a deep breath, and
sighed, letting the air flow from both her mouth and her nose as
though she was wondering about what is to be done in order for
this no longer to happen to the noble people, and I, so as to help
her, murmured, more to myself, the horror, the absolute horror,
when you can't believe your own eyes, and who knows for how many
years I'd have kept spouting these ridiculous jokes if I hadn't
had to roll up my sleeves and get down to work, making my way
through the tunnels of rubbish in this shit-ridden house in which
I can't even theoretically work on all three floors at the same
time, well, now me and my Borghese will enjoy ourselves, play hide
and seek all over the place so that it wouldn't be a surprise at
all if those two found us upon their return before we managed to
find ourselves, that'll be a veritable stunt when I chuck on the
twenty-third year of my life in seven days time, my thoughts
exactly, on this very day me and my Charles III will celebrate it
in style, let it go to where it came from and where all normally
goes, he still needs to be called at his house today and informed,
my mate, Little Red Riding Hood is at the end of woods, granny
isn't at home, she went off with the hunter over to the other side
of the Pond, and the wolf began crapping out marbles, like,
haven't we said everything to each other, you've really offended
me, and you'd done something similar before, but this time I
really lost it – INTERFERENCE ON THE LINE – WE'RE SORRY – 'scuse
me, it's deliberate and all in a similar tone, and then he'd give
me a statement for the press so that I have to promise him that
it's really, really the last time I'll behave like this and that
he really wouldn't be able to put up with my insolence and vulgar
allusions, not even my innuendos, not even that, everything has
its limits, if somebody is good to me, get on my back and ride me
however much you want, until I bleed! – take however much you
need, but don't start making a fool of me in front of other
people, that’s when I lose my temper, and adio mare, that's it,
that's the wanker for whom I took to the megaphone to say that he
should give up all of his inherited genes about the rights of a
man to all of those rubbish strategic ruses, you know those famous
lines, you should never give in first so that she wouldn’t wear
the trousers and alongside this up your sleeve you have, let's
say, something small, like a fucking cop, because, for God’s
sakes, you're not the only lady I can take advantage of – SAVE
YOUR ENERGY – there's no Little Red Riding Hood nor the old
granny, nor cake nor hunter, there is Ida Agalar and that’s a
full-stop, fuck you if you're ever somewhere out there lurking in
the shadows, thinking that your pride will be demeaned by some
sort of cos fi if you honour me by climbing up the staircase in
this villa, and at the top of it the Queen of Sheba is awaiting,
oh, don't go serenading me my dear, who gives you the right to
strut around on me, the one who rolled up the blinds which covered
your eyes, dear me, if only you could have seen yourself and that
idiotic expression on the face caused by your constant Madams, and
then you even managed to say a whole load of bollocks, a whole
bloody essay about the divine properties of the chips which I'd
quickly fried on the gas hob and even managed to scorch and burn
them so much that they looked more like lumps of coal than fried
potatoes, and you defended me, my dear young man, as though
Michael Mansfield was your father, boasting that you'd never eaten
anything like it in your life, but in earnest it was very pleasant
for you to be talking bollocks like that so freely because your
balls were no longer ringing the way they used to when you alone
could be woken up by them when asleep, that's how things are,
mate, my boyfriend now wants to show off in front of me just
because you used to have that chick under you – A MAN CHASES AFTER
A MEMBER OF THE FEMALE SEX ALL UNTIL THE MOMENT WHEN THIS
PARTICULAR FEMALE AGGREES TO HAVE PHYSICAL CONTACT, OF COURSE,
OUT OF HER OWN FREE WILL, AND THEN THEIR RELATIONSHIP
FUNDAMENTALLY CHANGES BECAUSE THE RELATIONSHIP NOW HAS AN ENTIRELY
INTIMATE MEANING, MORE PRECISELY, IT IS SENTIMENTAL, AND HEREUPON
THE MEMBER OF THE FEMALE SEX STARTS TO CHASE AFTER THE MAN, WITH
THE ONLY DIFFERENCE BEING THAT, IN A VERY LARGE NUMBER OF CASES,
THE MAN ATTEMPTS TO GET HIMSELF OUT OF THE INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP
IN QUESTION, OR IN OTHER WORDS HE WANTS TO RUN AWAY – yes, that's
what Zoroaster always used to say, my grandfather Hilmbeg, may
Allah bless you, let it be seen, and let it be known, Charles, the
third one as well, I love you, listen, I need to tell you
something good, for the next month you can come and visit me
without having to wear that fleece, hey, for the whole and entire
month, man, we'll have a honeymoon in their bed so that somebody
finally rocks it up, that great big old bed deserves at least once
for somebody to practice some really good and proper fucking on
it, to finally make its springs screech, and not that in the
morning its cold and clinically made before the officer does his
morning rounds, as if nobody had even been in it that night, if it
wasn't for madam's hot water bottle it wouldn't even know what
lukewarm feels like, Christ Charles, how could you have confused
the people’s ticket numbers, why is it that every single time I
have to wave to you first, why don't you do it for me sometimes,
yeah, more like messing around if your male pride allows it – YOU
SCRATCH MY BACK AND I'LL SCRATCH YOURS – man, I don't always have
the patience for such a thing, that's the sort of thing both sides
should tag along, not just one person because in his raw mind he
dreams up a film in which he screws the bird and does his deed, oh
wait a minute, if it's like that then you are casting you and me
and our film and what we have to the devil, when our brain cells
are operating on that wavelength, I didn’t approach my father
first, that sort of father, but I did approach you first – IN,
SHALL WE SAY, AN IN-TEAM-MATE RELATIONSHIP, TWO THINGS ARE
IMPORTANT ABOVE ALL ELSE: UNDERSTANDING AND RESPECTING THE OTHER
PERSON. IF THAT'S NOT THERE THEN EVERYTHING ELSE IS FUTILE, NOT
ONLY CAN THE RELATIONSHIP NOT HAVE THAT WHICH IS MOST IMPORTANT,
BUT IT CAN'T HAVE ANY LASTING IMPORTANCE EITHER. ON THE CONTRARY,
IF WE UNDERSTAND SOMEBODY THEN WE THEREFORE RESPECT THEM. BY
RESPECTING THEM, WE ARE LETTING THEM KNOW THAT WE THUS LOVE THEM.
IN THIS WAY, WITHOUT USING A SINGLE WORD, EVERYTHING IS SAID IN
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WAY POSSIBLE – to nobody else, my dear, not
even to him, and I wanted to call you, though, not because I'm
scared of being on my own or feeling as though I've been abandoned
by Your Excellency, but because I know that you're good, but also
that you're a manageable guy, that you were led astray by all
manner of rumours which were doing the rounds about me and my
fanny, a kid who thinks he's got to be top dog when with a woman –
THE WOMAN ALWAYS HAS BEEN, AND ALWAYS WILL BE, THE WEAKER SEX AND
THE MAN THE STRONGER – yes, sex, what a stupid word, I have to
tell Sir and Madam not to unscrew all of the fuses, but to leave
the porch light on so that nobody works out that the owners have
gone away for longer, and then at that very moment she freezes,
shaken as though somebody has touched an exposed high-voltage
wire, remains all stiff for a moment, unable to do absolutely
anything, any sort of movement with her arm or leg, head, tongue
or arse, managing only to cast a quick glance over at the wall
which was slowly sliding down trying to work out which floor she
was now on, but she couldn't see anything because the lift was in-
between two floors, so all she could see was how the wall's white
surface was slowly inching upwards and at the same time she felt
how the corners of her lips were slightly crooked, so that one of
her nostrils was slightly wider than the other, out of the corner
of her eye she noticed in the mirror how that half-smile of hers
which she'd brought with her from the third floor, and was a
little ashamed of, had completely vanished, she saw how her lips
curved up in a tearful grimace out of fear and foreboding, and,
like a bolt of lightening, the image of Mr Sforza carrying a chair
to the panel with the electricity meter flashed in her mind,
already touching the fuse in order to turn it anticlockwise at any
moment, and right now as she is thinking about it, the lift slides
at a snail's pace, that very fuse which supplies electricity to
the lift, if he made a mistake, she could reach the next floor
where she'd press the stop button – AN ELECTRICAL CIRCUIT IS
RESTORED AT THE MOMENT WHEN A CLOSED CIRCUIT IS MADE BETWEEN THE
SOURCE OF ELECTRICITY AND A CONDUCTOR – so she felt as though
somebody had put a lump of ice on her heart and was pressing down
on it so that all of her blood was turning into little icy
crystals and she herself into the Snow Queen who will wait in her
glass case just like Snow White for her prince, Charles III, to
come from somewhere and kiss her and get that bit of poisoned
apple out of her throat, God, just don't do that to me, she
managed to spit something resembling a whisper out of her
petrified lips, or was that her final remaining thought and an
outcry, a delayed sigh, or whatever, since thunder-bolts and
sparks had already reached her state of consciousness, the sky was
full of lightening above her, thunder could be anticipated in the
distance, rumblings which would shake up the whole earth and then
darkness, pitch blackness and a biblical apocalypse, and she,
having spread out her arms in helplessness, desperation and
horror, pushed her back against the plastic wall using the palms
of her hands, scratching the smooth surface with her nails, and
she felt somewhat better because they didn't clasp onto it but
rather slid, the poor thing didn’t dare think any further beyond
this: if she began to envisage a happy ending to this then at that
moment Satan would poke his nose in, because he doesn’t like it
when God was thought about and he was forgotten – THAT WHICH
USUALLY TRANSPIRES IS THE OPOSITE OF WHAT A PERSON WISHES FOR AND
DESIRES – but if she thinks about the very worst which could
happen then maybe this evil premonition would be fulfilled –
OFTEN, PRESICELY THAT WHICH A PERSON FOREBODES AND ENVISAGES ENDS
UP TRANSPIRING. IN THESE CASES SCIENCE IS POWERLESS, THIS IS HUMAN
SAVVY. A MAN ISN'T IN A FIT STATE TO FIND A SATISFACTORY ANSWER
WHEN FACED WITH SUCH PHENOMENA – if only she could get to any of
the floors, she'd then press the stop button – to stop her likely
grave, run out into the foyer and then onto a sunny, sun-drenched
meadow, but at that moment she became even more wrought with fear
at the thought that she wouldn't manage to reach such flowery
meadows nor get to the next damned floor, and out of this she felt
the creeps and something seeping down her thighs, like a thin,
sweet pain which grew by the second to an overwhelming climax, and
then she felt something similar to an orgasm and felt comfortable
leant against the wall with her legs spread in the middle of the
lift as if she was having a pee, not quite knowing whether she'd
just cummed or peed herself, anyhow, she felt both comfortable and
terrified, and just when this sweet fear began to subside, while
the wall's white surface was still crawling along the entire
length of the door, all of a sudden the lights went out, the lift
consequently shook from its foundations, then it suddenly
juddered, then stopped and was still, and the first thing which
came to her mind was her pitiful conclusion from a little earlier
that her wicked premonition has been realised after all and that
the devil had indeed come to collect her, and then at the very
same moment she wondered whether this would ever have happened if
she hadn't thought about it and then she remembered at the same
moment that she had to shout, she had to shout at the top of her
lungs, shout and shout, scream, Sir! Madam! Mr Sforza! Mr Sforza!
Ahh! Ahhh! I'm trapped in the lift! Mr Sforza! – she quickly did
some calculations, working out which two floors she was stuck
between, she wanted to determine where she was located – both the
lift and she in the lift – and what her chances were of calling
someone down there before they left or, better put, before they
got too far away, Siiiiirrrrr!!! I'm stuck in the lift, can
anybody help me, she shouted at the top of her voice which
reverberated sharply, and then she began to realise that the
walls, like the lift's doors, were a huge barrier to anybody on
the outside hearing her except from Mr Sforza if he hadn't got
down from the chair which he used to unscrew the lift's fuse, and
she was simply taken aback by this thought, God forbid, the
lightening flashed in her mind, what if he'd already gone, if he
was already in his car, if the car's engine was on, if he... if
he'd already... if he, she burst into desperate tears, if it was
already like that then... then my chances of surviving are at
Kelvin's zero, she cried as if she'd been burnt, God, you can fuck
off and eat shit if this is the end which you've allocated me, she
said with a shaking, trembling jaw as though she'd lost her mind,
such an intense self-pity took hold of her because of this that
tears streamed down her face, and she began to miserably sob so
much that her shoulders were shaking and then all of a sudden she
calmed down, as though she'd heard something, her ears
concentrating on the sound, they now seemed bigger than those of a
grown up elephant, she pushed her burning face up against the iron
doors, her forehead rested against the cold surface and she almost
stopped breathing, so that she could clearly hear her heart
beating not only inside her chest but throughout her whole body,
as if she had a million hearts, and they were thumping in every
part of her body, son of a bitch, she thought, they're everywhere
in me – in my eyes, throat, fanny, hair, two of them in my
stomach, three in each calf, everywhere, anywhere, places you can
and can’t think of, so she could even feel it in her right tit,
now she was one big heart which had to be beating vigorously
because, for God's sake, her body became trapped between the
concrete and the iron, while the heart was hoping and yearning for
someone to come back, she felt a thin stream of cold air on her
boiling hot face, she positioned herself so that it would caress
her exactly where the tear was just rolling down the right side of
her face and which had then stopped in the gap between her nose
and cheek bone, tickling her, and then she dried this remaining
little tear with that small stream of air and used all of her
aroused senses to listen closely and hear whether there was
anybody in the foyer she could call out to, to kindly explain the
anecdote about the lift's unscrewed fuse, the fuse which would be
screwed back in again onto the control panel where it belongs, the
lift would go down a couple of metres and there you have it: an
amusing story to recount with company over a cup of coffee so that
a person can get properly drunk after having been born again, it
should be celebrated royally well, and then she remembered where
in fact she was right then, she shouted at the top of her voice,
but this time it was as though her voice wasn’t coming out of her
but rather from somebody else who was shouting instead of her, is
there anybody there? Mr Sforza! Sir, heeeeey! Ahhhhhhhhh! I'm in
the lift!... I’m stuck!... – THE LIFT CAN ONLY MOVE WHEN THE DOORS
ARE FIRMLY SHUT, THEN PRESS THE BUTTON INDICATING THE DIRECTION IN
WHICH YOU WISH TO TRAVEL. THE LIFT IS NOW READY TO MOVE, EITHER UP
OR DOWN, DEPENDENT UPON THE BUTTON WHICH YOU HAVE PRESSED – a
sepulchre silence took hold of her voice, swallowed it and once
again surrounded her with itself, so when she saw that was no
point in doing this other than to console and calm herself by
shouting and causing a brouhaha along with her pointless calling
out, she attempts to grope around in the dark to find the door's
handle, then it again seemed to her that she heard someone’s
footsteps in the foyer, she listened carefully once again,
swallowed the spit in her mouth and was all ears, wondering
whether Mr and Mrs Sforza have returned, she could clearly hear
her deep, muffled voice and his bleating, she could hear their
conversation, primarily in German, whilst she was answering him in
short sentences, in French it seemed, that it wasn't very nice of
him how he always blamed her for everything, and despite there
being more than enough time until the plane leaves, she hears how
he switches to Italian cazzo di cavallo, and then – lo and behold! – he
starts to curse at her in Serbian, how he would fuck her dead
mother in her grave, whilst she, the poor thing, was answering
shortly and abruptly, Merde! Salaud! Au diable! But he had
considerably more material for swearing since she couldn’t speak a
word of Serbian, if at least she could have spoken a bit of
Hungarian, in that way she could have given him as good as she
got, the Serbs and the Hungarians are European champions as far as
this is concerned, he tones his curses down a notch, something
along the lines of Jesus-fucking-Christ, porca miseria! Both wives and
travelling and America, as soon as a person gets out of bed, he
has to realise that he's already at a loss, he immediately starts
making unforgivable errors and mistakes, and so she heard how he
was cursing all over the length and breath of everyone, when
suddenly from the lift – like a catapult she threw out her
screeching voice which resonated all around her, can you hear me!
Is that you, Sir? Madam? I'm trapped in the lift! She then
realised that using full sentences was a luxury and that it was
sufficient just to pick particular words, help! help! can you hear
me! And then she decided to just stick to certain vowel sounds
which she could stretch out until her heart's content, in which at
the same time she would be able to drown her cries, her fear,
misery and desperation – IF THE DOORS ARE NOT SHUT PROPERLY THEN
THE LIFT CANNOT MOVE – and so she stopped all of this desperate
howling, and again there was darkness and silence in which Noah
too had probably found himself after the flood, the conversation
had already melted away as though what she'd heard earlier had
been soap bubbles, there was humming in her ears, just like the
humming you hear when holding a large empty shell up to your ear,
there was no more elegance in French or arrogance in German, nor
hypocritical Italian astonishment, e che bella machina, nor erotic
Serbian phantasmagoria, or whichever language they might speak in,
it was perfectly clear to her that you can swear in any God given
language, people are all flesh and blood underneath the surface,
but a person doesn't have to feel uncomfortable when somebody
swears at him apart from when it's a Serb or a Bosnian who’s doing
the swearing, what will become of poor me, she switched back to
wonder, letting all the air out of her lungs like an overblown
balloon: ahhhh and it was as if she recognised the pointlessness
of this sigh, she fell silent, shaking her head in resignation in
the darkness, as though it became clear to her for the first time
what sort of a situation she was in, in the dark she measured up
the whole space around her with her hands, hoping to at least work
out how much space God had given her to live out what was left of
her life, she squatted, leaned on the wall and tried to think as
calmly as she could: is there a more pitiful creature anywhere in
the whole wide world than me, she mumbled, and when she heard that
in the silence and pitch blackness her voice was just like the
prayer of a believer, she enhanced it somewhat, feeling the chills
throughout her whole body, adjusting it to the colour and the
rhythm of the words which she was uttering and then continued: I,
Tevhida Agalar, as a result of my own recklessness, find myself in
a lift in which I shall probably remain for a whole month unless I
die of hunger or thirst prior to this, which is most likely to
happen if I lose faith in myself and place my only hope in Him who
neither hears nor cares, so there, thus spoke the unfortunate Ida
while listening to her own voice in the silence, but she couldn't
hold on with her constricted throat or hold back a waterfall of
tears, it seemed to her as though the Niagara Falls were flowing
from her eyes, the tears squirting along in the same route on her
face which had only just dried out from earlier, she considered
how nevertheless, for the time being, her only solace was to be
found in crying, so as to cast out of herself all of the anguish
which had built up inside during the last five minutes, and then
she began to think back, and with a longing she thought about how
a person never knows how happy ordinary moments can be, only if he
wants to see things in this way, and she too hadn't realised just
how happy she had been just five minutes earlier when she'd been
upstairs, getting ready to go out with Mr and Mrs Sforza, and
rather than going via the back exit to the nearby phone box from
where she would call her grumpy, mucky-faced boy Charles III to
tell him that she was the last person he had to put on an act for,
he who out of nowhere made a left turn with his great big lorry...
warn the ladies and gentlemen, warn Sir and Madam not to turn out
the lights in front of the villa so that they wouldn't get burgled
by whatever dodgy blokes there might be out there, just for the
cost of the 100-200kW which those four bulbs would eat up over the
course of the month during which they'd be away, and me to save
those poor people from unnecessary costs... the bird rushes into a
trap at two hundred miles an hour in her grand prix car, and there
you have it – you and your loyalty and your kilowatts and your
speed, think about it, who would even... you wouldn't be able to
find such a girl, she's a one in a million, it's hard to believe
that such people still exist – AND WHAT SORT OF A SURNAME IS
AGALAR? BOGOMIL, MUSLIM, THE ENDING SOUNDS SPANISH: CORTÁZAR AND
AGUILAR FROM ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE, SO, MISS, ARE YOU IN
FACT OF BOGOMIL ORIGIN? A PAULICIAN? A CATHAR, SINCE THEY WERE
ONCE HERE, THERE WERE TENS OF THOUSANDS OF THEM AROUND MILAN – one
more attempt at screaming resembled the cry of the very last man
left on earth, and therefore the last intelligent creature left in
the galaxy, the final remaining atom in this interstellar system
which would carry on for a little longer before it too ceased its
ever shorter amplitudes, she was stunned by her cry because it
sounded to her like the call from a grave, one which had they'd
already filled in with soil whilst a living soul remained inside,
persistently calling out, fed by the idiotic illusion that
somebody would nevertheless hear him and save him while he could
still be saved, this was the penultimate thing she was trying to
do because she herself realised that in this sense every attempt
was futile, nothing would come of it, Sir and Madam rushed to the
airport, they're already being deafened by the aeroplane engines
on the runway, Thor himself wouldn't be able to summon them, come
on, Idushka, you ought to calm down, gather your strength, you
can't let yourself lose your mind on account of fear, you ought to
tell yourself that things are as they are, and use your hands to
feel the space around you again to work out where you are and what
exactly you can count on and what you can rely upon, and what you
can discard as an illusion – SOMETIMES REALITY CAN BE MORE
FANTASTIC THAN FANTASY – yes, to consider one's options, if they
exist at all, there's not a glimmer of light at the end of the
this tunnel, in fact, if there is then I can't see it right now
and I can't imagine what it would look like either, my dear little
Ida, do you really want to send yourself insane right away with
fear and what your current prospects offer you, or do you want to
maybe sit down, have a rest in the darkness here, and then in
silence attempt to weigh up what your best course of action is,
what do you think, old girl? – YOU'RE STILL ALIVE MY OLD LADY / I
TOO AM STILL ALIVE – she asked and answered the question at the
same time, those who haven't died are still alive today, how nice
it would be if everything was fantastic like in a fairy tale, when
I would be able to get myself out of here and into the light, just
a hundred or so meters away from this place, where life pulsates
and flows, people are on the move, rushing, bumping into one
another, squeezing into buses with bellies full of shit, swearing
cazzo, porca miseria – LIFE IS MANIFESTED IN CURSES – wrote the
unfortunate Mrs Mandelstamm, probably thinking that a person
burdened by life uses curses to ease all of that shit that
pulsates and flows around him, but this is more like a scream and
a cry, it is an eternal roar from the jungle, people ought to
shout from the top of a high mountain, one far higher than the
Himalayas, shout for as long as your throat can manage it, so that
both the living and the dead hear it, so that the whole universe
listens to you, feeling the way you break out in a sweat and it
sticks your shirt to your body, and then I realised that I'm not
allowed to take any more breaks in between these howls, I need to
draw them all together into one, into one long howl, just like the
ones hungry wolves produce, which somebody would be bound to hear,
oh God, she halted, if only I knew where in the world Sir and
Madam are right now, she felt bouts of yearning mixed with fear so
that her lips quivered as she reflected on the afterthought and
she lost all of her desire to flail her little arms around and
bang them against the walls or door so as to attract the attention
of another living creature, or – as if – she said to herself, she
once again established that her chances were equal to zero, and
that was Kelvin's zero for that matter, and then, as though scared
by this, she recoiled, asking herself what sort of chances she'd
had in mind: either to call somebody on the outside or to get
herself out of here, but at the same moment she realised with
ironic resignation that this was in fact one and the same thing,
six of one and half a dozen of the other, if she could call
somebody then with this she'd be saved, God almighty, she smiled
in the darkness, how nice that'd be, and since we're already on
the subject of God, and she felt an indeterminate sense of hope
somewhere inside herself, but at the same time she once again felt
that piercing in her head which came from Kelvin's unhappy zero
which she had once heard about in school and who knows why she
hadn't forgotten it in the way as she'd forgotten everything else
which she'd learned in physics classes, however, she remembered
all things which augured evil or could in some way turn out badly,
when at that point something flew into her mind in much the same
way as a speck of coal-dust can land in your eye if you stand at a
train's window and carelessly look towards the locomotive, namely,
our conjecture, God only knows, why she embraced this premonition,
she accepted it at the same moment, trapped it as though it was an
egg, fertilised it and saved it somewhere and it swells and swells
up and grows inside us in the darkness and we know that it's there
somewhere, it is present, we feel it in the rhythm of our
bloodstream, in the rhythm of our heart beats, in the intervals
between the breaths we take, so that, now, seven or eight years
later, it can sprout out of us and emerge at the surface, because
now is the precisely the moment for it to demonstrate its torment
and power in the darkness, right now, in this shitty, closed lift,
yep, dearest Ida, my little Ida, the poor little wretch whispered
in the darkness having felt so absolutely isolated, as though she
were on Pluto, so that great big tears once again flew from her
eyes, letting them all come out, damn it, she said loudly, feeling
how her cheeks were still flushed with mixed feelings of
excitement, I only realised too late that I was rushing into a
trap, but there's no point in directing all thoughts in that
direction, when in danger its not worth taking the mandatory
course of action, in no instance should I allow myself to become
calm and sink into despair and fear – IN OUR POLITICAL ACTIVITIES
DEFEATISM SHOULD BE ENTIRELY ELIMINATED FROM OUR THOUGHTS. WHOEVER
CAN'T ACCEPT THIS NEEDS TO BE REEDUCATED – oh, mother dearest –
LIFE IS BITTER, MOTHER... MEXICO, MEX-I-I-I-ICO, MEHICO – why
can't you choose to give birth to me once again and dump me out in
the light of day, she nodded her head, I'd like to have another go
at what happened, I used to be indifferent, I never used to demand
such a sacrifice on my account from anybody then, come on mum,
please, no drama, no embellishments, my God, I just can't go in
and out this bloody iron and rubble which I'm walled-in alive to
at my own free will, I'm as pathetic as anything, she began
wailing as though mourning over somebody's open grave, feeling a
lukewarm trickle of sweat beneath her arm, removing pieces of
glass in the dark so she could make herself as comfortable as
possible so as to rest for a bit, she tried to redirect the flow
of dark and gloomy thoughts as soon as possible, for they were
ever more sinister, she wanted to attach her thoughts to something
more pleasant, something which wouldn't oppress her or cause
anxiety in her soul, so there, she began to shiver, and not
knowing what to do she began to sing, but it seemed like somebody
else's voice, a children's song about the imminent arrival of
spring, or more precisely of May, with the blooming of violets,
not just modest little violets but full, large ones, and all the
leafy branches, es, es, es, which she had once sang solo at a
school party in front of the whole choir, es, es, es, but the
mounting sorrow and melancholy squeezed her throat even more and
her voice mutated, she began to sing out of tune and shook with
fear, as though somebody could devour her in the darkness, maybe
even the darkness itself, she didn't manage to finish the final
verse, tears once again began to fall from her eyes and flow down
her face like two swollen Amazons, making her older by one or two
hundred years than how she'd previously been, so she was now one
hundred and twenty-three or two hundred and twenty-three, around
that age, the girl rushed towards the lift to tell Sir and Madam
not to turn the off the lights in front of the villa since, heck,
someone light-fingered might be under the impression that there
was something worth nicking from this picket fence house, so she,
the Cunt, had made sure this wouldn’t happen to Signor and
Signora, that someone wouldn’t steal from those poor people, thus
naturally getting herself into a great big pile of shit in her own
very special way, bravo! fucking Ida, now you can rightfully say
that you've been fucked good and proper, fuc... f... f... uh, uh,
if I could just cry so much that I could dissolve like a bar of
soap, if I could just vanish, death's not such a rotten thing,
it's the dying part that's humiliating, whoever the next person is
to call this shitty lift and opens the door is going to find my
corpse, that's that chick who ran after Mrs Anera and Mr Antonio
so that they'd spend a few extra lira on electricity, but with
this trick they'd manage to scare away the burglars and prowlers
from their house, so there, that's the girl, the gal, like they
say where I'm from, silly bint, she got what she deserved when she
goes around poking her nose in where it's not welcome, she invoked
all of the heavenly powers to punish her with a most terrible
death for such unnecessary and excessive eagerness, I didn't
deserve any better than this sort of end, she lopped off her head
with the sharpest of axes and tried to imagine herself in the most
unpleasant of agonies, she called upon her fear which, the
bastard, was hiding somewhere and, strangely, she couldn't feel
it, it was probably lurking in ambush until she loses it, and then
it'll probably come when all of this fake courage which she'd been
feeling had passed, and it'd have to pass because, there it was,
she was already feeling a bit tired of all this floundering around
it the dark, she'd have loved to have been overcome by
claustrophobia and to have lost her mind while still cursing,
while she could still lament, still vent her spleen, still sing
songs about the Spring's arrival, the leafing branches and
blooming violets, it's all alright, which means she still believes
in some sort of fucking hope and happiness, somehow she'll have to
cope with that fear of hers, behold, I'm not even allowed to think
about that any more, one should be sat at a table in front of the
“Primavera” cafe right now, where young people gather to have a
drink, make eyes at each other and gossip about absolutely
everything, just for a moment, for just as long as they were in
sight, look at that one just about to disappear behind the corner,
you'll never guess who’s screwing her, you know who's on my radar,
her Charles III blabbers, I bet you’ll never guess for as long as
you live, you know him like the back of your hand, where's that
female nose of yours which Faulkner generously bestowed upon you,
and you've been snagged on his hook so we can't even fool around
about it, do you know, Charles, if you’ve actually read anything
at all, what was it Faulkner said about women, come on, the wheel
of fortune spins for everyone, the guy became very impatient, but
I know, thought Ida, I know he's not trying to bother me with this
as much as he wants me to be aware of just how completely devoted
he is to me and how he trusts me, so faithful, in fact, that he
tells me things a man shouldn't tell a woman, especially if, at
the same time, that woman is, let's say, his girlfriend – IT'S NOT
ADVISABLE – to talk to your woman, because women have long hair
and short memories, and maybe the girl will become conceited, and
who knows what tomorrow brings, if he does the same with her too,
while she feels like lounging around like a corpse, she considers
and instantly bites her tongue, because it looks as though all
roads lead to something which stinks like a corpse – ALL ROADS
LEAD TO ROME – she grinned with the intent of poking fun at
herself, remembering how her Charles III was one hundred percent
right when he'd scoffed at female intuition because now too she
was using it as a weapon to identify her association with a person
who is completely at leisure and who is thinking of nothing apart
from drinking beer and getting his great big head drunk, alas, the
thought of the prone, motionless and lifeless body again caused a
thumping in her mind, I'm trapped here in this stupid concrete and
iron, you ought to do something woman, at least give it some
thought, and she strained her hearing so that it might hear any
sort of sound or anything that might resemble even the slightest
murmur, I feel as though someone will contact me, she says,
putting her tongue between her jaws, and she then got something
more powerful out, I feel as though nobody will contact me, I feel
as though I'll get jack shit, my old dear, you're just as
indestructible as your Bogomils once were even if you are trapped
in stone, you can't die, and so it must be... you'll live for as
long as you want, you can't die for seven hundred or maybe even a
thousand years, and then I won't want to exist any more, I'll live
the same way fish live swimming in the sea whilst the crew of a
ship are drowning, I'll survive even if I have to eat myself, all
of this iron, I'll scratch away at this concrete with my nails,
I'll see Mr and Mrs Sforza again, and I'll retell what happened in
detail – THERE WAS ONCE AN EMPRESS WHO LIVED FOR SIX HUNDRED YEARS
– and then I'll publish a book about it and, let's say, I'll give
it the title Alive in a Grave, and I'll achieve fame and money for it,
and this this girl will visit the whole wide world with tones of
money, not travel around – indeed visit, I won't serve anyone any
more, I'll just be enjoying myself, heck, at last, that'll be the
life, a proper good time, if I'd at least seen that, putting up
with all of this torment has been worth it, but whilst she was
caught up in this unhealthy enthusiasm, all of a sudden, out of
nowhere, she was grabbed by the throat, she was struck by one tiny
little thing – THAT'S THE REAL THING– she banged her foot against
the floor in the same way as when a man receives an electric
shock, then, like a cork, she let out a frightful cry like animals
do before a flood and all that she remembered was to admit to
herself that absolutely nothing comes of big words and never
anything great, rather they usually just leave behind a barren
egg, small things are the most important because they're the
essence of life and its seal, I live as I die, if somebody wishes
to split hairs, come on, out of all the sinners did it really have
to be me who gets caught in this trap, she asks herself, listening
to her voice in this sepulchral silence and still holding onto the
door handle which she didn't intend to release for at least
another six hundred years, or even never, no chance of it, until
Judgement Day, should one stop believing that God wouldn't forget
to whisper to those two that they'd forgotten some little bloody
item, for instance their international driving license, and that
because of that the pair of them would have to come back, find her
here and everything would be sorted out in a second just as it had
all got buggered up in a second, those are the shitty little
things which make up life – LIFE ISN'T A LITTLE THING BUT LITTLE
THINGS MOST OFTEN MAKE LIFE – braissimo, che bella machina! what a cute
little story that would be, a novelissimus, which you could earn a
load of money from, but like this, if I don't make it out alive
then someone else will have to attempt to describe the
indescribable, tell the untellable, God, what am I blabbering
about, I need to be born again out of the darkness, I shouldn’t...
she thought but out of superstition she didn’t dare finish off
that with which she once again wanted to nonchalantly joke, to say
what was logical to say, she forced herself to come out of her
pondering, to stop talking bollocks, listen, what else do I need
to think hard about, she spoke, persuading herself, but no
salvation came to her, and thus she became even more afraid of
that which she'd intended to say a second ago, isn't that an
opportunity for Mr Falkner to finally prove his theory and throw
Charles III to his knees, she didn't wish or even want to play
with words any longer, let it be how I didn't think it'd be, she
said out loud, and at the same moment, in fact, she realised that
she was just fooling herself into thinking that, as usual, the
opposite of what she was saying would happen, but she got caught
up in this infantile gambit, fine, she said in a conciliatory
manner as though she was in the lift with someone opposite her or
who was at least listening on the other side of the door, if it's
already time for God to summon me and for me to send him some sort
of account then I should do this with as little rancour and as
much dignity as possible so that I don't end up in that same shit
when you start whispering all sorts of bollocks to yourself, like
when someone tries to trick their thirst by drinking sea water, I
can't believe that nor can I begin to imagine but I can comprehend
that my life from now on depends upon this stale air and spit
instead of the water which I would have in me until something
happens, hmm, she restrained herself, but what else can happen in
this shit apart from that, mia carra, carrissima, why the devil
did you have to force yourself to fly around like a headless
chicken, you didn't even fly, you went down headfirst like a
Japanese kamikaze, even he wouldn't be so fanatically attached to
the emperor as when you fanatically went down headfirst, dear me,
heavens above, serves you right, you had to warn them to leave the
outside lights on, right now you could have been taking off on one
of those red buses, honey, rushing to your Charles III, you know,
Carletto Terzo, what's happened to me, when I left home to go to
you, you've no idea what sort of shit a person can get into
because of technology, you know those outside lights of ours, well
this girl here had a narrow escape from getting stuck in the lift,
God only knows if anyone would've thought of getting me out of
there because the old folks had gone off to America for a month,
and I'd have kicked the bucket by then for sure, no more Ida,
she's gone, she's gone, not even two per cent of Ida is left, and
you're sulking like some sort of peacock, I'm angry, when have I
not come to you first, you couldn't give a fuck that Hungary
doesn't have a sea, I can't believe, Charles, that you would ever
come to take a look at whether that bitch of yours is alive or
not, there's no cow, I can do without the cow, cows are ten a
penny, there's no chance of you lugging those two giant suitcases
of yours over to my place, so, you see, your Ida needs that sort
of trifle, it'd be enough for her if you treated me like an idiot
for the next two years, no way, for a whole millennium, until the
return of the four riders of the apocalypse, you could knead me up
just like loam, dick around with me until your heart's content,
but you're not capable of that, and not only are you not capable
of doing that, rather you'd never think of having fun like that,
and if in some circumstances it would occur to you, you’d simply
cave in out of your own pathetic shame, I don't know, maybe even
out of pride that you could have thought up something as
sophisticated, I can't fucking stand those sorts of men, but the
biggest dope in all of this is me for letting myself fall in love
with such a waste of space, knob-jockey, lady-boy, the piercing
pressed deeper into her brain, but she no longer felt like
improvising and imagining what would be if it would only be, I
call, and call, and call, and what, it's like someone trying to
use a turd to contact Jupiter from Earth, I'd rather call God
Almighty than a living person now, and again – call, call, call –
SHE COULDN'T CALL HIM, HIS FAITHFUL LOVE – so there, mio Carletto,
your Ida has disappeared as if God had never put her into this
world – IF I WAS TO WRITE TO YOU I WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO BECAUSE
EVEN THE PAPER WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO STAND IT, IT WOULD CRY OVER MY
MYSERY JUST AS BITTERLY -
her relative has a tumour on his brain
new dolls which she bought
an Irish fisherman
an old woman with a bundle of wood on her back
a boy gave up on his trip to L.
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,
catch an Ida by her toe
mum, what's a boogie man?
what's a lift?
Actually, a lift is a technical device used for easier and
faster ascent, or descent, between higher and lower, or lower and
higher, floors, my dear father, I went to get Marija, mum let me
go, I'll be back soon, oh dear me, what do I need this chic-lit
novel for, dear God, is this really happening to me, I keep
expecting that at any moment I'll just wake up, I'd never go in
the lift again, I dreamed that I was flying out of an aeroplane
towards the earth, towards the ground, and every second I kept
expecting to crash into it and break up into a billion different
pieces, and the seconds lasted for a whole eternity, I saw
cultivated fields and peasants on them as clear as day and they
looked like little specks getting closer and closer, but I could
never finally reach them, the specks became larger and larger, and
then I could even tell what was being grown in the fields, I think
it was corn and wheat, and just when I expected to go splat, I was
jolted from my dream, it took me a long time to compose myself,
but I'm pleased that it wasn’t the real world, I mean, while I
tried to catch my breath and as I’m lying, all sweaty, on my
crumpled bedding, I'm telling myself that only now do I realise
just how terrible, bloody and, above all, beautiful life is, why
are people so afraid of what they do not hold dear, personally I
don't know how to how to convince myself of the possibility that
in a single moment a person is something composed by chance, and
his whole conscious life is one terrible fear that this
coincidence – natural or, perhaps, God's gift – might start
falling apart in a single moment, so for this reason I was happy
that once again I found myself on this more beautiful part of the
real word in the same way as I'm now on the more ugly part, why is
life so if I didn't really always have a particular desire to
extract the juice from it which could humiliate me in front of it,
if I can say what I usually felt, it was always true, or at least
it seemed to me like that, I can't express it in the way my
feelings recorded it, so when I fail to describe or understand
them, it’s still far from that shiny moment, just as I'm still not
fit to understand my position here as a caged beast, when my life
here means the same as the life of a single ant in Australia,
everything depends upon those five or six turns of the fuse on the
control panel which restore the electrical circuit to the lift, so
there, Ida, don't be so pathetic when you know that your life
depends upon a single, small, tiny, wee little thing like the tip
of a finger, the fuse, Ida, we said that we wouldn't be pathetic,
let's not give up, my dear other self, even if we used to make fun
of one another, now's the time to unite and push together, she
thought, again excited and wondering where all of this strength
and self-belief had suddenly come from, but this time she was
careful not to graze up against that dangerous afterthought of how
her excitement was misleading and unhealthy and was in no way
linked to reasoning, rather the poor thing concentrated on that
impetus like on some whispering from the side which knows what is
going on, it wasn't entirely clear to her whether it was God who
was comforting her and giving her strength or if it was her other
self who was supporting her and encouraging her out of a sense of
gratitude because she'd summoned her and was not allowing her to
wallow in despair, lets push together, my other self, lets be by
each other’s sides like Siamese twins, I'm the bastard who only
calls you when he needs you, it's only now that I really see how
much your company and comfort mean to me, Ida, Anti-Ida, whatever
your name is, can the two of us be together, even if we've been
different till now, we need to stay alive until those two return
so that we can tell them all about what happened to us, we need to
tell them the whole story, those two pitiful creatures, who would
swim across the ocean if they only knew what sort of a mess they'd
left us in, is it really possible, Ida, that you could have put up
with it all, besides, I trust that a person is a perfect animal
which can adapt to anything, just like the pair of us have adapted
to this dark lift, God forgive me, good old Antonio would say, I
could have become a killer through no fault of my own, dear God
forgive me, and I'll reply in that sort of quiet, phony voice like
in many of those trashy American movies, that above all what's
most important is that we save those two or three hundred
kilowatts because, you know what, while you were away for a month
the price of electricity soared by twelve per cent, it's now 215
lira per kilowatt, two hundred by two hundred… he who wastes not
wants not, my bosses deserve that their employee takes care of
everything, I know what they'll think, a girl like this is hard to
find, our Ida, you know full well how uncouth those bimbos can be,
they're just looking to see what they can pinch from your house
and then vanish into thin air while you're still at work, they
disappear without a trace, as though the earth has eaten them up,
or – worse still – they'll bring lovers over and right in front of
our eyes, saying, like, what are you staring at, haven’t you ever
seen a man and a woman together before, yes, ladies and gentlemen,
they'll bring their lovers over, tones of them, and then they’ll
start calling them friends and similar nonsense, today, dear
ladies and gentlemen, women go out with all kinds of rabble, we've
nothing against it, but we don't want them bringing something
nasty into the house, she didn't even get to know him properly,
but she's already gone to bed with him, even animals don't behave
like this, even they follow their mating rhythm, that's why it’s
not surprising that AIDS has started to kill them all off like
rats, the only thing worth regretting being that besides them it
also does away with the innocent and the blameless, children who
are contaminated by these scumbags, may their seed rot – and what
then? - crying, tears and all of those lovely things, I’d get rid
of it as soon as possible: yuk! yuk! yuk! And that's the end of
the sermon, and not: ring-ring social services, ring-ring prison,
ring-ring judges, ring-ring lawyers, ring-ring doctors, ring-ring
for fucking hell, ring-ring this, ring-ring that; just as long as
it’s not my fault, so, you see, my dear ladies and gentlemen, can
you imagine what it means to have a girl like our Ida, she's a
treasure which words simply do not do justice, she's a treasure,
this now echoed in Ida's consciousness, but she didn't have the
strength to keep thinking about it and at the same moment she
imagined herself stretched out across the floor of the lift, lying
on shards of glass like a circus clown, but without the makeup and
mask and that great big apple-red nose, sad eyes, a pair of tears
drawn on beneath them, seemingly rolling down the cheeks of that
powdered face, for God's sake, she asked herself, where am I
lying, and at the same moment she got up, looked at the place
where the mirror was meant to be, passed with the palm of her hand
across its surface and guessed at what her face looked like at
this moment, I'm the prettiest girl in the world, she thought, and
then grimaced in the direction of where her reflective other ought
to have been, but quickly turned her head to the side so as to
ostensibly not be looking and not feel disappointed if she caught
a glimpse of a wrinkle on her face, she pictures herself now
pitifully gazing sideways at the wall's invisible plastic surface,
she remembers for a moment that she's lost that other her and that
she should do something to summon her back again, God only knows,
how long she'd be staring like that just as lethargic people stare
if the other her hadn’t been in contact, having asked her, Ida,
have you ever seen anything similar to what you are seeing now,
for instance, have you ever seen a film or read a book similar to
this, because you have to admit that film and literature are full
of mighty blokes who manage to get themselves caught up in this
sort of shit like you're caught up in, don't you realise that you
don't even have to be particularly stupid to get into this sort of
a mess, it just happens without any specific reason, you'll end up
dying like all of those people who get sucked into the ground
during an earthquake and croak it there, the hell with the god who
created you, not even a little kid would have gone rushing into
the lift in the way that you did, if only you'd had the slightest
inkling that it could stop like that at any moment, it's as though
you rushed towards an oncoming train, believing that you could
stop it using just your body and outstretched arms, behold, what
happens, happens, her voice trembled in pain, aha, I know who got
me into this situation, I know now, she wanted to shout it out,
but her voice was entirely mute, now I've managed to make all the
connections, I get it now, I don't know what I've been thinking
till now, how could I have failed to see such a trifle, a trap and
it's been here in front of my nose the whole time, oh dear, may
you be spared a good night's sleep or and a full stomach until the
end of time, she cast a Bosnian curse upon Mr Antonio Sforza,
beautiful Ida, when that arse hole returns he probably won't have
the guts to look me in the eyes, that is if I give him a chance,
I'd like to experience that moment even if I had to drop dead
immediately afterwards – AND UPON SAYING THAT HE CRUMBLED INTO
DUST ON THE DOORSTEP – how could I have. Dear God almighty, to
have been deceived by something as cheap as that, she tried, as
much as she could, to patiently pluck something from her broken
and jumbled memories, bring together the shreds of conversations
between herself and Mr Sforza about the Bosnian Bogomils which had
been so magical that for a long time after this she'd been unable
to break herself away from a sense of the evil premonition that
he'd in fact been provoking her, and that through this humiliation
he'd also, in a way, been coming on to her, and all along blood
was rushing to her face because of the excessively intimate tone
he used when addressing her by first name, and she felt a sense of
discomfort and anxiety because of this and everything was flashing
in front of her eyes: him and the Christians who were hated and
persecuted by the whole of Europe, and so she gave herself the
right to think that this was another confrontation between Europe
and Bosnia through conversation between her and Mr Sforza, whose
ancestors could have very easily been in some of the punitive
expeditions with which the Pope threatened Bosnia because of its
disobedience and heresy, it seemed to her as though he was mocking
her and making fun of her damned ancestors in a very indiscrete
manner , which, whatever the circumstances, can't be deemed either
appropriate or especially witty, like that night once, Ida, were
the Bogomils cannibals and did they live in incest – father with
daughter, son with mother – he's read this in a book, and it had
to be true because they recognised Satan as being an equal partner
to God on the other side, and whoever believes in that sort of
thing would, of course, by anybody's reckoning, have to be a
cannibal... sodomite, homosexual, lesbian, and a mongoloid,
paraplegic, tetraplegic and whatever else creeps and crawls on
this planet, and they wanted to establish this evil secret and
give it dignity and legality, ascribing to it something inherent
to human nature, or rather, human instincts, so, the pair of us
are blabbering about something which we ourselves know nothing
about, we build our suppositions on a foundation of sand, each
keeping to our own ambush, imagine, she remembers how she once had
the intention of telling him that if you, Sir, had been born where
I was born then we would find it very easy to understand each
other, your teasing would be all about my fanny and everything
would depend upon my good or bad will, but – I say – this just
flashed through my mind for a second and didn’t go farther than
that, I didn't have the courage to say it out loud and, in fact,
why would I tempt the Devil, your wife would probably consider
this to be a scandal which would be a perfectly good reason for me
to end up on the street together with the rags I had when I first
came here, neither of use were so carless as to blabber out any of
that, even if it was absolutely true that you would lose me in
this way, and I your wonderful wife Madam Anera, who knew how to
afford me such absolutely lovely moments, so, that's what I was
telling myself and biting my lip so as not to reveal anything in
front of Mr Sforza, while he carried on peacefully puffing away on
his pipe and intellectualising about the barbarity and cannibalism
of the Bosnian Christians and thus the barbarity and cannibalism
of my ancestors, whose blood I know flows through veins, but I
told him this: I, Sir, am ready to eat you for breakfast, but he
used this as an opportunity to carry on wooing me by using
something Dali once said, about how everybody who truly loves
someone feels a need to eat them, and so, so there, Miss Ida, it
can be for breakfast, as you have just declared, laughing
insincerely with his elderly lust which sent chills running down
my whole body and caused me genuine concern and anxiety due to his
indiscreet allusion, and that’s probably the reason why he
prepared this joke with the lift so that I'd have to eat myself in
order to stay alive, because, as he says, after I rejected his
advances, I clearly only love myself and would probably one day,
if the eccentric Dali is to be believed, eat myself out of
overriding love or narcissism, oh God, she thought with a sadness
in her voice, everything has its limits, even my illusions, if
they these are illusions, last night I saw that face which for
some reason was so terribly sad and melancholic that I myself
wondered why Sir was so sad, especially at the moment when he
clenched his fist on the dining room table which was covered with
a light-blue chequered tablecloth, wearing a shirt which hung down
over his trousers and it seemed as though at any second he'd say,
to hell with it, Ida, can't you see that soon I could go mad
because of you, are you really that blind or just pretending to
be, so much so that I'm going to try and get away from you for a
month, if my heart allows it, wouldn't you at least once honour me
with a kiss, those lips of yours keep cropping up in my dreams and
finally you gobble me up, and not like this, the pair of us
bickering over some unimportant things in which you see your
misplaced ancestors, what really happened to them, even I wouldn't
know, I would only be able to sense something and it wouldn’t get
more serious than that, and in that moment she closed her eyes
even if she couldn't really do that because of the darkness, once
again trying to recall those final moments from her flat's back
door and those few paces over to the lift, and just then she was
struck by single detail which she'd entirely forgotten until then,
that Sir, before she'd run over to the lift, must have definitely
seen her because he'd been able to hear her calling, and therein
see at least her hands and fingers on the staircase's iron
railings, thus, he had to have heard her, he would have heard her
bawling no matter how deaf he might have been, and he waited for
her to enter the lift and then, when he saw that the indicator
light had come on – a sign that, with her in it, the lift had
begun to descend – he waited for it to be in-between floors, in
front of the wall's great big surface, and he then unscrewed the
fuse.
With this conclusion a panic took a hold of her, once again
she felt that same chill run down her whole body, she broke out in
an icy sweat, all over her body and God knows for as long as the
excitement would last until all of a sudden she would pass out
onto the floor. Half conscious, she sensed the flash of Charles
III's hand as well as his inept attempt on the park bench at
putting her hand on his thing.
No, my dear Charles, it's not time for that yet. Besides, that
isn't everything...
2.
In some sense, I have always exhibited a tendency towards the
excessive, I listened with a great deal of respect and amazement
at how my father laughed at me with so much skill and violence,
carping on at me from time to time because of that tendency of
mine and scolding me by saying that I havn't got any of his blood
in me. I loved some things: the smell of pipe tobacco, whether it
was just packed or even lit; I found it so much more pleasant than
the smell of stale cigarette smoke. I can still taste the flavour
of fresh strawberries and whipped cream, however, above all else,
I loved to stick my nose between the opened pages of my French-
Serbian dictionary from 1898, with the printed stamp of its former
owner, a certain Dragoljub Ž. Jovanović. Besides this, I adored
the evenings when I would dream of misty desires, feeling a
certain degree of fear that somebody might enter my room – mum,
dad or my brother – and see what I was doing, and so from then
onwards I started feigning a tendency for migraines as a way to
get away from them and justify my insatiable longing for solitude
and dreaming.
Nevertheless, I often became concerned about the particular
degree of mysticism which appeared in my dreams, coming on its own
accord and then imposing itself upon me, conquering and occupying.
For a start, I noticed that the place where I was standing,
walking and living was never the place where I was at that point
in time, or that I should have at least recognised it, if I had
been there before. It seems that I must have found it far too
nice, so a considerable amount of time had to pass for me to be
able to notice and determine that this simple little thing was a
bit unusual.
The other thing was that nobody I knew ever appeared in those
gentle dreams of mine. Well, the names of my mother, father,
brother and acquaintances cropped up here and there, but not one
face resembled any of theirs. As I saw in this an unconscious
desire for moral exclusion from life, I tried to remain in this
new world of mine, having been entirely unable to escape from its
charms, and from then onwards I measured all things against the
yardstick of childish beauty and inexperience. This tormented me
so much that I felt a physical pain in my breasts. At that time, I
found my only refuge and peace in solitude and dreaming. If a
person was as powerless as he wanted to be, life would probably be
less interesting.
I'll rip off that decoration on your shoulders
I'll stretch out your skin to make a drum.
We'll deceive them good and proper. Then he died, not thinking
about anything. His mind was entirely overcast with darkness.
Tevhida is religious, that'll save her. The best protection when
faced with the Devil is not to pay heed to him. Humility does not
mean slavery, rather it is avoiding arrogance. You've got to have
a lot of future in front of you not to think about anything. But
what happens when there is no more future?
It’s not that I didn't – I swear! Maybe I even did. But who
knows what I myself don't even know. An eloquent speaker and an
attentive listener... The bag was heavy and the presents were very
expensive, he was grabbing his ears so as not to fall asleep...
While he was sitting at the wheel, he was thinking about the
possibility of a wild revenge against those who had wronged him...
Both the first and the second Ida live together, now for almost
twenty-three years in the same body, but with a different soul,
which was apparently always flowing from me and roaming with
unbridled delight, inflicting countless greetings upon the other
one, enough for sixteen lifetimes, exactly how much I need to come
to terms with my own death, and I, whose power was so great that
when I was fifteen I'd entertained fantasies that I would even
have a chance with God himself, and then I immediately concluded
that the world, it seems, was only waiting for me, so that in its
unhappiness it could carry on revolving around me, so that I would
explain to him and solve all of his worldly, and even
otherworldly, dilemmas and that his waiting for me was, in fact,
his prehistory before my divine arrival and divine revelation,
which I had composed on one beautiful January morning (of course,
in a metaphorical sense, not meteorological), without any prior
notice, without anybody having been enlightened about a descent
from the heavens, I forced a fear upon humanity as to what I'd do
with it when I had not been there for so long, yes, I remember
what was written in the newspaper, that there were rumours about
some sorts of prophets, however, there were Muslim and Christian
ones and some others too, so one was expected in America and is
probably still eagerly awaited to this very day, people staring
into the sky all day long – there's loads of that sort thing there
– a dream, I read, as I said, a serious warning in a newspaper
about how it was high time that some sort of new God descended to
Earth, or whatever else he would be called? – because all of the
former gods had either been destroyed or people’s trust in them
had been totally lost, and at that point, in all seriousness, I
pointed at myself, standing as a fifteen year old kid in front of
the mirror, divining and interpreting my nightmares as a reliable
sign that I was the Messiah who people had been awaiting in their
nightmare, but then, all of a sudden, and for God knows what
reason, an abrupt reversal occurred so that I automatically let
myself know and reproached myself thinking that I was just another
shithead on this planet and so I couldn't have abused the right of
being God's heir or heiress, whatever you want to call it – may
his will be done – mercy and omnipotence, when I myself wasn't
able to deceive myself with an ever greater spectrum of lies and
fibs, that there were no limits to my power, as is the case with
everyone else, and so in a phantasmagoric hyperbole I started to
laugh at everything around me, Ida, you lunatic, oh, Ida, half-
mad, I think to myself: what strange things happen in your mind,
what strange spells are you under, and in the middle of the night
when all decent honest people are asleep, apart from me, whores
and thieves, and then, after such agonising non-sleep trying to
get to the bottom of what is my and what is the devil's work,
toiling myself indefinitely, until the contours of the landscape
begin to show at dawn, the corners of the blinds which didn’t
cover the window frames had begun to whiten, and still for a long
time I was unable to fall asleep on those sheets, which were now
crumpled up beneath me in the shape of a rugby ball with a hole
indented on the couch, as though I'd dug out my own grave, and
that's how it was until recently, poor thing me, I finally
realised that not only was I not that long awaited God for whom
people had been gazing up at the sky, and not only did nothing
make any sense to me any longer, but also that I didn’t understand
anything, especially because I allowed myself so naively to be
trapped inside these four walls, four proper walls which even
Sing-Sing can't boast with, so we’re talking about four smooth
walls made out of reinforced concrete which hurt your fists the
second you hit it just a bit harder and from which there's no
escape unless a miracle occurs, but miracles only happen in fairy
tales, not in lifts, so, Ida, little Ida, you freak, this is how
you're going to die, unblemished in the middle of a dark lift, virgo
intacta, having been unable to find any strong evidence for your
holiness, which is the most beautiful and the saddest illusion in
this life of ours – who says that this is actually our life? – I'd
never dreamed of that illusion, and again I was trying to please
it, depriving myself of the right to trick that little fallen
angel in me which was already moaning because of its weakness,
fuck it, Ida, it’s bollocks, go on, use your head and give some
thought to how you can get yourself out of here, and if you manage
to do that then, surely, you'll be right about everything else you
say and make claim to, you can keep caressing those fanny hairs
until the end of time, and keep dancing around the cock, words are
useless if you're not even capable of having a joke at your own
expense, and it's the naked truth that you're not allowed to
succumb to the temptation that you should wish to pray at your own
funeral as though you're experiencing the most usual experience of
going just like, in fact, millions of other people do as part of
humanity at the end of the day, and that you wouldn't, Ida, fool
yourself, this ain’t happening, this is now a far more serious
matter than the intellectual masturbation with the daily black
coffee and sweets routine, and a little pastry or two in a cake
shop, oh God, I can't wait to finally wake up, to finally cross
over that red line between life and death, dream and reality, fact
and fiction, fear and apathy, you can’t pretend here, you have to
do something for these fucking doors to open – OPEN SESAME –
otherwise, you've got nothing else to do but sit on the lift's
floor, stick your head between your legs like some sort of a
shitty ostrich and admit to yourself that the party's over,
sister, you've made it to the end, all that remains to be done is
to pray for your soul and get ready to cross over to Akhriah, by
God, all this is just passing illusions and complete bullshit
because life is a hell of an interesting thing, and everybody who
hasn't considered taking their own life would have to agree about
that, it's not just a matter of courage which comes in handy when
a guy is determined to wait in ambush and then kill himself, God
forbid that the situation becomes urgent, as is the case with me,
that whilst alive I breathe the air which could cost me so much,
so that the whole world talks about how I choked on my own CO2) and
that those pitiful hacks fill up their newspaper columns with my
tragedy, just to let the retarded readership know that something
is happening – even if on somebody else's account – bleating about
the unfortunate Tevhida (“What sort of a name is that”) which
will, of course, to some dutiful and zealous hypocrites be a good
reason to write a sharp-tongued letter to the editors of
newspapers, radio stations and television channels about how that
last case with that young Tekvida Agalar (who could even possibly
pronounce that oriental h of theirs?) was a blatant and sad example
of how our lifts have in some way become killer lifts, so, Ida, if
you carry on in that direction you might still be able to cry over
your own obituary, this with you is becoming more and more like a
parade and less like what it actually means, this way of thinking
it starting to sound a bit pathetic in this sense: THE KILLER
LIFT... WATER AND FIRE MAKE GOOD LORDS BUT BAD SERVANTS... no:
GOOD SERVANTS BUT EVIL LORDS and similar proverbs with which the
reader will cure his idleness, but within five minutes he'll have
already forgotten and will lasciviously gawp at some bird's legs,
tits and arse on the next page.
So fucking boring!
O sole mio, o, mio dolore, finally that I should say something
lean before my mind is completely drained, o sole mio, quanta
bella giovinezza, che si fuge tuta via, it's already been forty
hours since I ate anything, there, that's what my watch, which I
broke the glass on, tells me, it's now twenty past two in the
morning, and I've been here since ten o'clock in the morning the
day before yesterday, I have to keep touching the hands to count
how many times they've gone round so that I don't confuse day with
night outside, it's now... it was midnight two and a half hours
ago and the dawn will break, woe, ah, ah, ah, why, to die, why?
There are still another twenty-seven days until their return: 27
times 24 equals 648 hours, which is... 8880 minutes, which is...
times sixty... five hundred and thirty-eight thousand eight
hundred seconds, God, it’s a long time... Ida, shake my hand so
that we shall get through this together and together await the
return of those two corpses from the United States, I'll sit here
on the floor like this so as not to waste energy – BE RATIONAL
WITH ENERGY – all alone in the world, it seems to me as though I
wouldn't be this lonely even if I was on the Moon, or on Pluto,
listen to me now, my little pet, God won't listen to me – HE WON'T
HEAR ME – don't let him keep making fun of you and turn the dogs
on you, stop being hypocritical like some sort of idiot and smile
at everybody and everywhere even if they put shit under your nose,
you're not like that, you've still got your ancestors' Bogomil
blood in you, you're deathly pale, you can feel it in your
weakness, you're lucky that you can't comprehend it and see it in
the mirror because of the darkness, I can feel which side of the
life the mirror is, later I'll just be able to take a little
glimpse of it because of the light coming from the floor beneath
me, but I will only barely be able to see outlines of something
which might be my face, but I can't make out anything from it, oh,
mother dearest, – MAMMA, IO SO TANTO FELICE! – perche, pourquoi...
why, why, why?... my mother, Scheherazada Hadžihafizbegović, and
my father, Abaz Agalar, would a man be able to move into oblivion
and not have to remember so many superfluous things which just
give him a headache and torment him, those things that just insult
and humiliate him in front of himself, in front of God and other
people, and they prevent him from unhindered entrance into the
heavenly realms of serenity when the only thing a person feels is
joy at being alive, breathing and seeing before him the miracle of
life which he entered into by chance, well, well, he's not
destined to always successfully wrest himself from all of the
visible and invisible forces around him, which usually attack his
pitiful life, wanting to take away the little remaining air which
he has left, God still hasn't managed to find his reflection in
people, so that's therefore that elusive moment which only those
who have nothing to lose apart from what they got at birth, those
dimwits who bypass Him for their whole lives, eeny, meeny, miny
moe, catch a tiger by its toe, if it hollers let it go, eeny,
meeny, miny, moe! Out came the white Russian and fell in the
cabbages... an old man with a flaxen beard entered the room and
nobody knew where he slept, the only thing they knew was that he
would always turn around and look back when somebody would shout
to him: Shave it! Little Ida swallows pills from a little tin box
upon which there are letters, beginning with a large P: Plivadon.
Houseflies were buzzing around with an agonising monotony
Houseflies – house of lies...
letters sent by recorded delivery. a capital R
sketches
photographs
documents
froth on a beer
there was a lot... a lot or much? There were a lot of noise and
sunlight
What's it like to be a male?
Bach and tinned food: yesterday at nine o'clock in the evening, on
the ninth of July, at 21:00, he and she have dinner, and then
afterwards light a cigarette, wine, a blue tie, a ring with a
black stone on the right hand's ring finger, two boxes of cheap
sardines in soya oil and a smaller tin of beans
Houdini, the king of illusions
The anthropodrome (wouldn't it be wonderful if horses were
people's jockeys, and that the human winners had wreaths hung
around their necks). You know, at the bookmaker’s when they're
offering odds on person number sixteen... “What's that beast
number 16 called?” Antonio Sforza! “Bene, bravissimo!”
I fear the realisation that I have a name, that I have an
identity, that I have my autobiography, that the police have my
record, that I'm a woman, that I'm still a girl and that perhaps I
don't even exist at all. Now, when I'm here where I think I am, I
can see what I'm really like, or rather, what sort of a girl,
woman or piece of arse I am... Imagine, Ida, if this sort of thing
was in the displays in shop windows: MAN, HOW SAD THAT SOUNDS. At
the same time, life is joy and pain, philosophy and chemistry,
physiology and metaphysics, fear and hope. It is futile to keep
giving birth to new creatures which will die, be forgotten before
they've even been lowered into their graves. What's the point in
living then? Is it some sort of obligation to yourself and those
who created you to live out your life? For your homework you were
set life, and you are now faced with the power of time and a
military obligation to put up with it until it drains out of you
and carries you in fog to infinity, where you will eternally
wander around like a damned outcast, never to return...
The Earth is one big cemetery, a mausoleum…
Everything emerges out of a tear, and must end with it too
All that literature is still missing are umbrellas and
fisherman's galoshes because literature has become an ocean of
tears; just like real life... and all of it, utterly pointless and
unnecessary...
Praise... is missing... in want of... Kadrija, who always sat
in the front row, would always say: “Praise so and so.”
Not even God could convince him that to praise is how it was
pronounced
Dosiness came over me like a little cloud of bliss.
To kill oneself means to anticipate events.
My grandfather Hasan used to say, and I remember it well, as
though I was listening to him right now, with more swagger about
his haemorrhoids than his diploma from the esteemed Gazi Husrev-
beg madrasah.
How could my mother carry those two great veranda-like tits of
hers? Aman jarabi jare sula ekstakfirla, I was always afraid of
her sad white clown-face.
WHAT IS NOT LOVE, IS NOT LIFE EITHER.
Bland and cheesy. If it were only pathetic, not half of grief
even.
FORMER FRIENDS ARE TWICE AS DANGEROUS AS ENEMIES
Gay and shitty.
Maybe that is so, but it's still gay and shitty.
Probably. Probably. They believe. He underlined such and such
Ibid. End of quote. I warn, but I really warn. I turn my attention
to the esteemed listeners. I. I and I. I say. I say. I know. I was
warning. I remember how I once literally said this: “We have to,
time isn't helping us anymore, it's true, time is no longer on our
side, time has turned its back on us, it's one minute till twelve.
I have twenty witnesses that I said precisely that... it turned
its back on us... someone said loudly, congratulations for the
real picture. One minute to twelve, if it's not already passed
twelve. But who to speak to?”
People don’t see anything, don't fully understand, and don’t
fully notice: all sorts of things are beyond their comprehension.
This civilisation possesses all necessities – from
contraceptive pills to crematoria.
And I, whether I want to or not, must forget. Signed by T.A.
Ibidem: A.D. MCMLCCCII, year of the Lord XXIII
This condition will last until my soul is completely broken,
because from hour to hour it comes to tear off a piece of me and
tell her that in life it is mostly calculated that that the
stranger in me startles me from my slumber and won't let me sleep
in peace, and she, before I've fully woken up, all in tears, sings
some sort of pious song, and only then realises that it isn’t
actually a religious song but rather a sad tune which she doesn't
know the words to, she just presumes that the text should be sad
and completely turned to face the sky, and it could easily be made
into some sort of sacred text and entered into the church hymn
book, oh merciful God, that is the tune which I once sung as a
little girly in church services and everyone in the church was
absolutely stunned at how that little Muslim girl sung
extraordinarily and masterfully, as if she was an angel from the
other world when compared to the hermaphrodite falsetto of young
Friar Gabriel, who used to drag us to church by offering us hot
green sweets, besides being burning they had a cross cut out on
both sides, and now, after who knows how long, those images came
to her mind, with fuzzy edges and reflections, which had a
pleasant sparkle to them in this darkness, so pleasant that I
could burst into tears over them remembering those long gone
experiences, and now what I’d like to do most would be to rest my
head on the shoulders of that other Ida so that we could have a
good weep there, so good that afterwards we would be so much
better, in the same way as its always better when you really throw
up properly because there's nothing left to torment your stomach.
I was afraid of that Ida, I presume, just as much as she was of
me, I frightened her, what a horror, I was wasting her trust
justifying that with the fact that I hadn't dared to uncover even
one of her vices, not even that I often imagined how parts of my
body went around the city in different directions, meeting up on
the main square to link up at one moment, and then a second later
separating and each going off in their own direction, without any
obligation or agreement to again meet up at a specified place as
they had done before, for instance, on the square, and I, or
rather my head, stayed on the ground to see if those same parts
will once again meet up beneath it or whether it will con its way
onto a different body and limbs, if it is all the same for the
head which arms or even legs it finds itself connected to and
controlling, and with regret I understand that it wouldn't be the
same, it wouldn't be the same head, nor would that head be able to
think in the same way, because it's one thing to have a head above
a paralysed person's body and an entirely different thing to have
it above that of an athlete, whilst it's an entirely different
thing again when the head is above a body which is pitifully
trapped in a lift, oh God, those other thoughts, what they are
like, that the exchanged head would be horrified by that which got
cooked up in them. Today's governments also want to swap our heads
with theirs, to blind them by its undertakings, such as that the
fate of the motherland depends upon us, that one fine day (not in
the meteorological but rather figurative sense) we can fly off to
Pluto, and other such things. My heart's now been emptied, my
brain's completely parched, and the soul – mine or hers – mislaid
somewhere and covered in dust, and this darkness stares at me like
a glass eye.
3.
His first and only love was my great-great-great-great-great-
grandmother Kosara, to whom he remained loyal and devoted until
the end of his life, although he was ten years and not even one
month old when he first caught sight of her at the local livestock
fair, while she was reading some stranger’s palm. At that point,
she'd lived ten times as many summers as that boy, or more
precisely, she was nineteen days short of her one hundredth
birthday, but she was absolutely aware that only that sort of kid
could make her happy forever, let's say for the next hundred or
two hundred years, until – as she swore – by Jove, it didn’t even
matter, because the years will most probably take their toll, so,
much later, on her deathbed, she confided all of her family
secrets to a neighbour since she didn't want to take them with her
to the other world, by God, she talked to her confidant for nine
days and ten nights, but on the ninth night, when she was
finishing her story, she ordered for all of her underwear to be
changed, to be washed and brushed with a bone comb, with the
thicker row of teeth, and then my great-great-great-great-great-
grandmother gathered her hands upon her stomach, the skin of which
resembled birch-wood bark, and released her soul without uttering
a word more, because she finally realised that in her three
hundred years of life, out of everything which she'd done, half of
the things had been done in vain, and three-quarters of her words
had been spoken into the wind; and for the most part, out of what
she had said, most of it was forgotten, just as what she had
uttered in these final five minutes of her life would also be
forgotten. What was worthy of memory, which she had done, was to
touch her breasts and think for just a moment: here, here I am,
everything around me is foreign because it doesn't resemble me.
I'm dying but the days, the earth and the sun will continue to
come and go rather than be confused by me no longer being here.
She wanted to remain indifferently tender for her soul, and
because of this she decided to end her visit to this world before
getting ready for the long journey, without any great words, which
she was somewhat inclined towards, and following her death the
neighbour recounted how Kosara smiled and blinked the eyes which
no longer had any eyelashes, apart from some bristles upon the
eyelids, whilst my great-great-great-great-great grandfather
Pribil, who was strange like any devoted man, as soon as he heard
about her death, immediately climbed up onto a cragged rock on a
nearby hill and plunged into the abyss with that same smile and
those same blinking eyes (as, probably, every husband and wife
have after two hundred years of marriage), holding onto the mist
as though it was wool, and when they later found the pieces of him
at the rocky bottom of the precipice, people set fire to his
house, destroyed his possessions and shackled the dead man and
buried him at a crossroads to the sound of a beating drum,
uttering curses at the same time, drink the milk of nine black
bitches, and then a blacksmith emerged from the masses to convince
my grandfather to be immortal with a chisel, however much that was
still possible, whilst others grumbled above the grave about
universal nothingness, and then about the nonsense of the stone
and the chisel, ah, what repulsive times those were, squawked
signora Anera, and signor Antonio Sforza started to laugh
frantically, like a real savage, openly and derisively, like some
sort of randy lunatic, calling the Bogomils all manner of
offensive names: sodomites, thugs, cannibals, animals and all
sorts of other names, but I was convincing those two aristocrats,
with a lump in my throat, that this can't be true and that I
hadn't told them everything I think, and that I beg them most
kindly to desist from interrupting me until I recount it all,
because I can't afford to lose sight of even one single fact which
would make these people's philosophy clearer to us, and their
unfortunate lives, which were most probably such because of this
philosophy, so that such an incredible thing would at least be a
little clearer to us, by God, those who were present lit a fire on
my grandfather's grave to warm up his soul and get rid of the fear
of death, but there, that same great-great-great-great-great
grandfather of hers visited her in a dream tonight and told her
that he'd come to her so that the pair of them could go off to
their Bosnia together, so that he can show her the house in which
he spent his childhood, to once again see his favourite linden
tree and whether it is still stood there in the same place and, if
it is, whether its thick canopy still casts a huge shadow almost
one hundred feet across, he did, he did, he dreamed of her, he
said, in the grave 'e saw 'er just 'ow 'e 'membered the last image of the sleepin'
Kosara five-'undred and nineteen years ago, durin' June, in the year of our Lord
fourteen-'undred 'nd sixty-three, pleading to all that is sacred that
nobody, whosoever, would reveal the holy secret, because they'll
find out and cut it, and he, at this moment, left, but wait,
where're you going, gramps, I beg him, but he answers that it was
enough for us to be together for as long as is takes for an
average-sized candle to burn down, and I, he says to me in a
conciliatory fashion, will come to you again in your dreams
tonight, and to your master, who is laughing and grinning so
savagely, calling the Bogumils savages, sodomites, cannibals and
animals, and God knows which other even nastier names, and I'll
tell him that which I constantly say to the stone above me, hissed
gramps in a dinosaur-like voice, and to that I ask him, what is
it, gramps, that you were saying to the rock, that the fact that
everyone meets their death is a small comfort for our fly-like
lives, but the greatest evil is when a person cannot find the
strength in himself to take his own life, ah, ah, dear God and
Satan, he directs his three eyes at me, which on his face looked
like three poorly sown buttons, can health exist without sickness
and power without impotence, and therefore a person feels two gods
– the god of the body and the god of the soul – because the body
was always divine since this was how Satan elevated it to the
highest of heights, and that's why man is incoherent, restless and
desperate, because – if only God exists – where does evil come
from, and if there is no God then where does goodness come from,
said my good grandfather, catching his breath, hissing like an
overheated pressure cooker, and if God and man aren't relatives
then why do they live together, why, answer me why, he gets closer
to my face, you don't have to answer me right now, because I'll
come to you again tomorrow, but not in your dreams any more,
rather when I'll be of most use to you, to guide and comfort you
because you've wandered into a foreign world, which will always
remain alien to you and will always have a locked door with a
million padlocks, you decided, it seems, to destroy yourself, like
these people you've created your own vulnerability in your heart,
and it'd be better if you'd remained a mystic like your ancestors
had been, a clown or an artist, so as to move in truth and the
beauty of life, which is more accessible to the imagination than
reason, well, my dear Tevhida, he said as though he was addressing
her, remember what your grandfather used to say, a clown riding
his wheelbarrow inside a circus arena better fits into the reality
of life than ghosts like your Lord and Lady Sforza can ever hope
for, and that's why the truth is viewed as a form of madness, and
its the same with us Bogomils, just as we raised our head
insatiably like a viper, by this point it was already impossible
to calm the fawnings and exhortations of Johannes de Kazamaris's
legacy with his chests full of crosses made out of precious alloys
or from, on the other hand, our compliances, however we needed to
be mercilessly beaten up and have all of our heads chopped off at
their bases, leaving us all with empty hearts, dried out brains
and souls swept by dust, when our white Bogomil paper had to be
written upon, so now it stares at all of you like a glass eye,
leaving the Vatican and other Christian deceivers, liars and
tailors of souls a historical monopoly on “the truth”, skilfully
narrowing it down at least to an ambiguous probability, because it
is one thing to see with one's eyes, and another thing to see
through these eyes and something entirely different to see within,
and also those illusions that our women walked around bear-
breasted, that they hoisted their skirts up above their knees,
that they cursed and stole, that they let themselves be humped in
front of their children and passers-by and would dance with their
bellies and buttocks, that's how they present us and how they'll
always present us, even though I shall now tell you that nobody,
absolutely nobody, can be a judge, everybody, in their own way,
will be destroyed and forgotten, and then, what is life other than
searching, finding and losing, and then the same again, and the
same again, and all over again, and the same again, the same ever
since the beginning of time until the Almighty summons us, well,
it was precisely that death, it was that which gave birth to God,
and with him love and fear taking away his freedom to dream
uninhibitedly, because a person is only free when he doesn’t love,
because he is no longer duty-bound to his heart, you know, my
grandchild, I really need to go now, he says with tearful eyes, is
it really possible that you've allowed yourself to be conned in
this way, ah, my God, I pulled myself out of this rapture as soon
as my grandfather evaporated, but at the very same moment the
mister and the missus appeared before my eyes together with their
close friends, it's hard to find a girl like our Ida today, if
only you knew what those sluts are like: the benevolent expression
does not leave their faces, and they'll steal from your eyes,
especially the ones who come from Yugoslavia and Africa, they
simply run off, or if that is beneath them then they won't bring
one lover but a whole multitude of them, and not only do they do
it up against a wall, on the floor, ma che, on your own bed, and
then crying, tears, social services, a war for child support, come
on, bourgeoisie, that's done on your territory, I've got
experience with them, but what will you do when you've got to rely
upon them, and any lira whatsoever comes in handy to them, that's
why I'm telling you, my gentlemen, it was dear God himself who
sent Ida to us just the way she is, we simply don't have the words
to express the love which we felt towards that wonderful girl,
just picture this, she chases after us to tell us that we should
leave the outside lights on because of thieves, we'll get through
a couple of hundred kilowatts more than usual just so that no
good-for-nothings don't dare to go poking around our villa, trust
me, everything will be in its place whilst we're here, in America,
our Ida's bloody good, we couldn’t have found a better girl… it
would be better if I had some light here, it would make things
easier for me, rather, I have to live like a mole, like those
first Christians down in the catacombs, Satan set me the craftiest
of traps, everything can eff off times two over, if only my
Charles III was here to give it to me good, before I have to stand
in line for the roll call, just to spite whoever laid this lousy
trap for me, I won't give up, what sort of a person would I be if
I'd already begun to despair, there always has to be hope that
something will come – but what's that something? Godonlyknows! –
as if he can definitely hear me and by some miracle turn the fuse
so that this shitty lift, with me inside it, starts moving
somewhere, either down or up, to imagine which direction my fate
is facing and whether my final illusion in this darkness will come
deus ex machina, Ida, if you at least had a small candle or a match
to illuminate your face in the mirror, I believe that I wouldn't
have any doubt that I'd save myself from this grave, maybe I
really will get out of it at any moment – who knows? - maybe one
of those two corpses will remember that they forgot something
important or maybe they heard my cries, which would only now seem
to them suspicious, hey, you fool, isn't there a more pleasant way
but to phone someone, listen, run back into our villa, our maid is
trapped in the lift there, please call the police, the fuse is on
the control panel, etc..., and yeah, I shouted, I really did
shout, at the top of my voice, so, if one of those two heard me,
and they were the only ones who could hear me, that means that
they wanted me to stay in the lift, if those two didn't hear me
then I don't even have a theoretical chance of anyone hearing me
now, firstly, because every single door is shut, secondly, because
I don't have any more energy to shriek like that again, I can't
believe that one of those two stiffs didn't hear me, she's got
particularly sharp hearing like all of those whose other senses
are failing, she can hear when someone lights a cigarette with a
match out on the street, she can recognise certain people by their
footsteps, from far off she can recognise that limping Angelo when
at night he comes home drunk from the bar, and I, how come Madam,
you can manage to recognise his footsteps when at least half the
place has similar footsteps, maybe because apart from limping
Angelo also spits, the poor sod spits all over himself, and Madam
Anera, utterly serious, not smiling in the slightest, can't you
hear, Ida, how he gently treads with just the front of his right
foot and then puts the weight onto the whole of his left sole –
ta-ak! tak! ta-ak! tak! tak! – listen to the pair of us
eavesdropping on Angelo’s taak-taking, aren't we, Ida, asks Madam
in a whisper, gosh, it's just like how you said a little earlier –
ta-ak! tak! ta-ak! tak! tak! – I said and focused my ears, and I’m
popping out my eyes like when you're watching someone who you've
seen before either in a photo or on the TV, and you just keep
gawping at him simply because he's similar to who you saw in real
life, dear God, I think, I wish that what's got to happen would
just hurry up and happen, or – better still – that they finally
remember me, where's their sixth sense... I don't know what else
to say, I can't fall into some sort of panic and end up doing
something against myself, but I know that I can't let happen that
which I can't even utter to myself, I can’t – yes, I can’t, hmm –
bugger-bollocks, life can't be repeated and is absolutely unique,
it's worth putting in a lot of effort so that it's worth something
for you, it wouldn't be fair of either God or people for me to be
buried alive here and left at the mercy and mercilessness of the
unanswered demands of my body – alive, butchered, half-butchered –
it's inevitable that my body is somewhat leaving me, exhausted
like this, I can't stand up on my feet for a whole minute without
wanting to sit back down on the floor, that's one thing; the
other, I don't dare to scream any more or call for help, it seems
as though I'd frighten the life out of myself and this ocean of
silence which is around me, because a shout seeks a shout, a shout
is afraid of silence, and for this reason I must hold on to the
remaining strength which I still have, which will still be able to
hold me floating in some sort of balance and remain in it,
otherwise, I might suffocate in darkness and hunger, I won't allow
myself to rot here and for them to find me with my mouth open and
arms spread out and for them to gather up my skeleton from here, I
won't personally organise professional satisfaction for Italian
journalists so that my name can fill the front pages of newspapers
and magazines, stop, woman, dribbling and thinking about those
sorts of things, start to work out what you need to do, but I'd
love not to be thinking about these things just prior to my
birthday, if somebody was to grant me the flame from a match for a
moment, like to the very first caveman, this would emphasise my
sadness even more, it'd force it out of all the corners and drive
me crazy until it would pass, but only for a short period of time
until the fear would once again cause new goose bumps which would
make me secretly cry and blindly force tears down my face, and
stare in the darkness towards the place where I know the mirror
is, which right now is of absolutely no use to me, because in the
darkness I can't manage to recognise myself in it, and something
causes a huge sense of pity in me, so much so that I'm slightly
embarrassed, causing even more tears to well up, join up and
trickle down the already-established basins, from which I feel
their hot swerving path, and at that point I'd want to cry all the
way through till’ Judgement Day since I see what I've done to
myself, but this once again brought me back to reality, and once
again I froze in terror, please don’t, I reproached myself, allow
Satan to have his way with you like this, calm down, compose
yourself and think about what's the best thing for you to do, if
there's anything good left in this sort of situation whatsoever,
because if you carry on like this then there'll be one more devil
stood here apart from you, because of which you'll go completely
mad out of fear, you need to understand this, wipe those tears off
your face and be with just one fool, you, so that you've got some
company which will make this misery a little easier – a fool with
a fool – that's already a little more bearable, but put together a
fool with a devil, that doesn’t sound good at all, so understand
at last that death has already entered, it's in the lift and you
can only save yourself if your head serves a purpose, because,
don't forget, it brought you here, but only it can get you out of
here, and then, Ida, you've got yourself, you've got the darkness
which is against you, you've got your body which is against you,
you've got the constraints of this closed space, and because
you're a fool you're allowed to hope that some miracle will pluck
you out of here, so why are you making it easy for the devil to
control you when you can only fight against him with God, to
whatever extent your faith and strength allow you – to heaven above, to
heaven above, where night no longer exists,
where the eternal glow shines everywhere...– Ida, don't allow yourself to
become soft and open the doors to your soul for the devil, believe
me, please, don't give up, you're already in this shit up to your
neck, so just let it all stink everywhere around you, you're not
allowed to think about it, so, for instance, when the devil first
brought me to this city, on the first night I slept in the waiting
room at the train station, how comfortable it was to go undetected
as you sleep in some corner there, on one of the long wooden
benches, and you're warm, you can feel your blood flowing inside
your body, and you experience the people around you like some sort
of great big unhappy family, but one for which it's sufficient
just being there, in the warm, and because nobody forces them
from there, because I noticed right away that all of the sleepers,
slumberers and dozer-offers weren't waiting for any train and nor
were they hoping that somebody would come for them from somewhere,
they were just homeless people and Lumpenproleteriat like myself
who didn't have their own threshold to cross and so came here
every night, ostensibly to travel somewhere, and in the early
morning hours, the squeaky ranting of the station's cleaners
harried them out into the cold, just as they forced me out that
night along with all of the other “travellers”, some of whom were
so insolent that they swore on the lives of their mothers and only
children before the carabinieri that they really had bought
tickets, which someone had probably nicked while they'd been
asleep as they waited for their train, fine, whatever, you claim
that I'm lying, doesn't matter, you're in charge and have the
right to claim whatever you want, it's your gun and your uniform
which grant you that right, and the carabinieri raise an eyebrow,
io sono non sono niente, if you show me a ticket then only then will I
know that you've bought one, everyone has to respect the law: both
you and me, and all others, otherwise... I think I've been clear
enough, I love myself more than I love you, his voice, small and
indifferent echoed in my frozen ears, when all of a sudden I
notice that the lift has been flooded with some sort of pale light
which was reaching in between the wall and the glass of the door,
but so poorly that I couldn't even make out a raised finger in the
darkness, but at the same time a fear of carbon-dioxide flushed
over me so that I was afraid of how it would surely suffocate me
soon, and from my very own breath, so that I, in order to avoid
that unpleasantness, opened the doors to make some sort of hole, a
small whole in fact, through which a bit of air could flow, or at
least so that my breath could go out that same way so that it
wouldn't fill up the lift's small space, and so that through this
I would if nothing else be freed of the worry about breathing when
I don't have anything to eat or drink
4.
So there, I'm sat here calm, numb, my body erect, my arms
folded around my knees, my eyes blinded, intently looking at the
lift's wall which I can't see, which I keep touching with my
fingertips, in order to feel its smooth surface, and then I recall
that it's not the most suitable position for thinking and killing
time, which I have in abundance, because who will force my
thoughts to calmly rest and not let out a sound of any kind, or if
not of any kind then for now at least
When the sunshine and the starlight
go out for us, go out for us,
then's the time to lift the spirit
to heaven above, to heaven above
where night no longer exists
where the eternal glow shines everywhere
and then I want to wander my folded arms, with slow, heavy
steps, diagonally across the lift's floor and to carry on singing
the sad song in my drawn out, husky, uneven voice
… that eternally sparkling star
but then, out of terror, I presume, I see on my face how I am
burying myself, digging at the soil with both hands onto myself,
it is so clear, I can see a corpse at the bottom of the pit, laid
out horizontally, but at the same time, I'm both that corpse and
the gravedigger who is shovelling soil onto the body, and I can't
wait to finally finish that job, when all of a sudden, she raises
an arm down there, all dirty from the soil, and waves it at me
resting on the shovel's handle, she gurgles something from down in
the ground, something along the lines of wait for the love of God,
why do you want to burry me alive, can't you see that my arm is
moving, that I want to tell you something, why are you doing this,
stop already, and all of this spews out of the earth in bubbles
and gurgles, and then I can again hear that same voice, but with
the syllables all somewhat detached, as it carries on singing that
song from a little earlier
Whe-n some-one bids us fare-we-ll
for the la-st ti-me
the-n tur-ns his in-ten-se gaze
to the hea-ve-n ab-ove, to the hea-ve-n ab-ove
wh-ere th-e et-er-nal glow res-ide-s
and God knows how long this would have lasted if I hadn't felt the
coldness of the wall on the crown of my head, saying that it was
all just nonsense what I had thought until a little earlier, but
fear had somehow managed to suppress it, because it's nevertheless
necessary to keep hold of the fact that I'm still alive and that I
want to stay alive, and now I feel some sort of distant pain and
thirst, but the dead, of course, don't get thirsty, nor do they
have any need for food, I use all of my strength to move my arm
and at the same moment I feel as though I'm covered in a
melancholic wave of happiness, which I find a little bit
unpleasant, because I actually catch myself wanting to conn
myself, the time had not yet come for me to go belly up, although
a little earlier I had really considered that there was a dog
stood over me, a real, live dog, watching me with its beautiful,
intelligent eyes, and I hear how it addresses me, get up so I can
get you out of here, and I, just when I think of getting up and
going after him, wave to him, in a friendly way, as you wave to a
dear creature, hoping that I'll be able to stop it, that I'll be
able to touch it and feel its thick fur beneath my palm, but when
I go to stoke it there's just an empty space and my hand falls
dead into my lap – THE DEAD FALL NEXT TO THEIR BROTHERS – at the
same moment it burrowed its head into my breast out of despair, is
it really possible that there isn't a dog there, nor its beautiful
clever eyes, nor that voice to tell me how it has come to take me
to Bosnia, and I see that I'm still trapped in the darkness, I
stretch out my legs as much as the length of the floor allows me
and search for the most appropriate position for my blood
circulation, so I get a sweet feeling from this which at least
forces the blood to flow through my veins more normally, if
nothing else then even in the opposite direction to how it would
normally go, especially in the legs, which I'd kept crossed until
now, and I imagine how it would be nice, fantastic in fact, if all
of this lift's damned panels, or even the bricks in this wall,
would all of a sudden open up and allow me to get out of here, oh
God, dying isn't such a wonderful thing, maybe if I could moisten
my throat with a drop of water, then, at the same time, she
rolled over onto her back and stretched out her legs along the
wall as though all glory lay there and thought, while I'm bent at
the neck, with my head on the floor I'll crawl along the track
through the forest towards the spring which I can't see, but I can
hear water babbling somewhere nearby, and then I wonder whether
with my crying I'd be able to wash away all of my misery, cry, I
order myself – CRY, MY BELOVED LAND – I remember the name of
Paton's novel which I'd cried over as a little girl while reading
it, I think because the writer seeks this right from the cover,
cry, I order myself once again, but this time I really quite
loudly commanded myself and then I focus absolutely everything on
conceiving how I really am, currently, probably the most pathetic
creature on this planet – THERE'S ALWAYS WORSE THAN THE WORST –
but this couldn't provide me with a God knows how good a
consolation because all that I could feel was what my miserable
position offered, the ratio of my chances could be given as – MORE
OR LESS – 1:10n, and that's that, my dear Ida, your image and
opportunity and according to it you'll need to be like a cactus in
the desert, which with its remaining spines proves to itself that
it's still amongst the living, I'm here, and just about a hundred
feet away people are walking around and having fun and they
haven't got a clue about who Ida is, that Ida is trapped in the
lift, in their street and that she hasn't even got a theoretical
chance of calling someone for help and getting out alive from this
prison in which she fell in because of 200kw, oh God, was it
really so important how much electricity the Lord and Lady would
get through just so that she'd get their smile as a prize, ha, our
Ida, there's no girl like her in the whole world, oh, merciful
God, oh, dear God, why didn't you turn me away from that idiotic
thought and decision to call them, there I was the only clever-
clogs, that they should leave the lights on outside the villa,
because of possible burglars, but what if burglars really do come,
because they're not switched on at the moment, in which case it
really could happen that which I'd wanted to warn the Lord and
Lady about, but what could really happen if I was entirely wrong,
and that it doesn't even occur to them to do over this house,
well, then there'd be a real joke at my expense, my little vixen,
I don't want to think about anything else anymore, I want to take
a shoe off, she says, and does it at the same time, and then
begins to bang with her heel with all of her strength, as though
in a trance, until she finally realises that she'd broke the glass
and, with it, also her heel, she felt a shard of glass under her
fingers which she blindly and carefully began to pick out from
their positions on the skin so as to prevent the pieces from
getting into her flesh because in this darkness her chances of
removing them would be 1 : ±, and, so that the same thing wouldn't
happen to her foot, she put her shoe back on and, as soon as she
put it down on the floor, she could feel how that leg was shorter
than the one which she had hadn't taken the shoe off of, at the
same moment she remembers she should look for a reason for this
because the heel was broken or had fallen off, and because of this
her legs are an unequal length, she concluded helplessly, having
put her foot back down on the ground, before this pushing aside
the pile of glass shards with her foot a few times, still staring
into the darkness, in the direction where she presumed that it was
to be found, what time would it be now, she asked herself and
touched at the face on her wrist watch, is it half past eleven or
six o'clock, she didn't know how to work it out, she felt at the
hands again and attempted to determine which one was shorter, is
the shorter one at the top and the longer one at the bottom or is
it the opposite because it's no small thing, she tried to force
herself to smile, half past six, or even half past five, it
depends in which direction the hands are pushed round and what you
would want: day or night, even though it is all the same now,
without being too malevolent, because there is a sea of darkness
all around me, and if it's day then a little light at least would
reach in, so: what actually is the time? – is it half past eleven
at night or half past eleven during the daytime, every dimension
of time has evaporated, my orientations are all mixed up, my sense
of awareness is gradually crumbling, I feel as though I'm losing
composure again and the ground beneath my feet, she recited,
inattentively touching at her neck, she clapped against it,
ignoring the pain which this caused, she placed her hand upon her
breast, hearing the beating of her heart from deep inside, she
placed her palm against her mouth to feel whether she was still
breathing, she feels as if she was going to fall, she starts
breathing rapidly, and she realised she was breathing rapidly,
sinking in to somewhere, while rocking at the same time, she hears
the voice of that dog with the beautiful and clever eyes, its eyes
all of a sudden emerged in the darkness and the dog said to her,
if you are planning to get out of here, one of the safest ways is
to go in the same direction as the growth of your fear, which gave
her the chills all over, she felt an icy tingling throughout and
her skin began to crawl and become crimped like with a slaughtered
hen which had just been plucked, she felt a terrible horror just
like every other creature does when it has a premonition of that
most elusive moment of closeness to death, which made her pee her
pants and at the same time wonder how she would be able to get
going with this thing which was paralysing every sing part of her
body, I can't write about it because this paper wouldn’t be able
to bear it
her relative has a brain tumour
an old woman with a bundle of wood on her back and... a boy...
some...
I gave up the journey to the town of L.
Dogs were howling pitifully in the darkness close to me, the
wind was whistling from somewhere, freezing my bones
Yes, that was yesterday or maybe even the day before yesterday
She wasn't sure whether from then
One or maybe even two days had passed, and then I shut my eyes
and everything seemed a bit easier
Pictures from the past began to link up
The beautiful summer spent with those very same people who
have maliciously left me trapped in here
She'd enjoyed every moment she'd been alive, every tiny part
of the landscape, and then she remembered the flocks of birds
which had enjoyed flying around, enjoyed life, because they're
free
The sun tickled her face through the air, so she, all scared
as she was, squeezed up into the corner of the lift, holding her
stomach and thinking at the same time about how for the first time
she had come to realise how important sometimes those hundred
metres or so are which separate her from that air she was longing
for to such an extent that she could very easily burst into tears
once again, it seemed to her as though it would be perfectly
possible for the whole Niagara Falls to come pouring out of her
eyes, what she would give now to be able to feel it on her face,
on her bear shoulders, because its June now, its summer and the
flowers are blooming, look at the darkness and it'll immediately
be clear to you, people are still walking around with smiles on
their faces, they're licking ice-creams, hopping onto crowded
buses to refresh themselves on the town's beach, cramming into
trams and cars, going by foot, laughing, getting some nosh,
grinning, it's the world, my dear, it's boiling away without you,
a bit like when you carried on boiling after father went and shot
himself thinking that she was dead and nobody bothers to ask where
that little Ida might be, not even Charles III, where is he, for
God's sake, at least to begin to ask where's my girly-bits got to?
– oh-no-no! – nobody's begun to ask, people don't give a fuck
about things which they're not and which don't belong to them,
Ida, just release from your throat at last that which you've been
afraid to say out loud, go in the direction in which your fear
grows, ala, we're finally going to die, Idushka, lets-go, forza forza,
she was wiping the sweat from her forehead using her palm, the
sweat from her temples, she tossed her hair back so that it
wouldn't get in her face and imagined the look on her face: such a
beautiful young girl and you're already leaving, happy birthday,
you maiden, God himself must have sent us a girl like her, Dio, come
ti amo – BOLLOCKS – buttocks, bullocks, goldilocks, cocks, capisco,
mia carra, mia carrissima, what an utterly faggoty language, as
Gorki once said somewhere for Polish, as if snakes were speaking
it, well in the same way I'm saying that this language is faggoty;
death is simpler than I'd realised, immeasurable strength is
needed for it
where night no longer exists
where the eternal glow shines everywhere...
who? – Ida, be clever, keep quiet and don't pointlessly waste
energy, it's enough that you're thinking, something is bound to
come, good things come to those who wait, oh so it's like that, I
said quietly, at the same time I scare myself with my own voice
because I know that it will once again wake up the bats which will
fly around and bump into me, and after them the mice will come,
huge, engorged rats which will run around my feet, and try
everything to crawl up my legs, having smelt the cakes on that
tray and then they'll start biting at the leather on my shoes, and
not just that but also my skin, I'll feel their sharp little front
teeth, and then she shrieked, not a real shriek, just a squeal
because she's in fact been startled out of her delirium and
nightmare, the tray was gone – MONEY IS GONE, FRIENDS ARE GONE –
the tray was gone and so were the mighty cakes which had been upon
it, she felt pathetic sat curled up on the floor with completely
numb limbs, as though there wasn't a drop of blood in them, she
considered how it must be the dead of night outside now, she
realised that her watch had long since stopped working, time had
been completely smeared, she'd long been trying to remember which
year Anno Domini this was, she somehow figured out that it was
eighty-two, but according to the Hijra?… she began pouting her
lips, nodding her head, whichever year it is whatever, I don’t
give a fuck even if it was the millionth, what's that got to do
with the Earth being a sphere, if it was a cube then maybe she
wouldn't be here, who knows, who knows, who knows?… someone
probably knows… nobody knows shit, I know,… I know that it's night
outside because it's summer at the moment, the days are warm but
the nights are cold, well done love; that's the same as if you say
that in winter the days are cold but the nights are warm, who
knows – WHO KNOWS, KNOWS – everybody knows, it's just me who
doesn't know anything, I know that right now I'm shivering, she
wisely establishes, clutching at parts of her body besides her
torso and wrapping herself in those few clothes which she'd
brought with her, remembering at that point that she had a packet
with a few cigarettes in one pocket and there had to also be a box
of matches which right now were more valuable and precious to her
than all of the gold and diamonds on the planet, there were
probably more matches than the number of days which remained until
those two would come back, so then, my dear – YOU'RE ALIVE, MY
GIRL – you've got the most serious intentions not to leave your
bones in this pothole, to once again set eyes upon the heavenly
sun – I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE SUN AND THE STARS, / ALL I
KNOW IS HOW MUCH PEOPLE SUFFER – pure be your faith, Ida of
Agalar, it's bloody good when hope warms a person to the extent
that their pussy starts to get all wet, everything's great while a
person hopes
when
whilst all of a sudden
in vain, the darkness won't come
silence
paints
a picture
of salvation
the hand fell dead beside me, I don't know, alone in the dark
lift, but no: How I envy the tiny insects which can pass through
the cracks with ease, I can't shout or think any longer, nor
dream, my head aches from the constant fear and helplessness,
wasn’t this the real hunger that began which I almost read about
in the newspapers: Sandy... probably Bob Sandy, something like
that – BOB SANDY HAS BEGUN A HUNGER STRIKE – an Irishman, an Irish
fisherman, darkness leads a man to madness, I'm not allowed to go
mad, let's put it like this: I'm not allowed to let myself go mad,
or even better, let's put it like this: I'm not allowed to create
the conditions which might cause my madness, she seriously warned
herself and asked herself, and what is it, you tell me… what is,
what is – madness? Like a teacher, she intently points her finger
against the wall tapping with the tips, and the wall answers,
madness is an inadequate reception of the stimuli which exist in
objective reality, fine, again concludes the subject, fine, it's
fine, it's perfectly acceptable, give me your student transcript,
thanks, you can go, says the wall, but the subject gently thanked
him, gently having leaned in, grasping with a hand for the handle,
but rather than this she felt a piece of broken glass, thanks and
goodbye, what kind of a face will I see in the mirror, this
terrible silence forces me to try to suck out the nice things –
ONLY BEAUTY CAN SAVE THIS WORLD – because I want to get out of
here – HE WHO BELIEVES IN HIMSELF WILL BE VICTORIOUS – I must get
out, I must keep my composure, endurance, patience, Tevhida,
everything's bloody against me, all that remains is for me to
become the final conspirator; all of a sudden, before me – Willy,
I offer a hand, I'm standing on the doorstep to my flat like in
some romantic Hollywood film, Garry Cooper and Grace Kelly, he's
smiling at me, Willy that is, while a golden light illuminates
him, I hug him with my very last atom of strength, as happy as can
be, I run into his embrace and… then I fiercely crash into
something… the lift door, making this girl tumble to the floor,
leaving me somewhat unconscious, but really completely absolute –
ASSOLUTAMENTE – so that I wouldn't look in the other direction and
that my eyes wouldn’t fall out of my sockets a la Gloria Swanson
where a neon light had once shone fantastically; he's still here –
Willy – what's he doing here now when his name should be Charles
III, but yea, Charles III is illuminated by this same light, it's
just that half of his body has sunk into the shadows and so she
doesn't see him, like the left side of his face, which looks to me
like a death mask and frightens me, even though I'm convinced that
the other, the right side, is surely smiling, I know that it can
be like that, I conclude, oh-ooh, I cry out, intentionally not
invoking God, just a moment, I know that the human soul is made up
of laughter and tears – THE EARTH IS THE VALLEY OF TEARS – here's
a fig, the earth is thus also a valley of laughter, but above all
else it's the valley of stupidity and ignorance – and stupidity is
an immeasurable deed out of which branches all of human history,
stupidity has won for good the status of an institution and
sacredness, thus, Charles III's lips don't move, it looks as
though he cant hear my pleading for him to get me out of here, I
don't know how to explain why in this darkness I'm making a face
so that in it I have a face like a moron, an idiot's smile (all
smiles are usually idiotic), but still, I feel wonderful,
beautiful - KRASNAJA, ZHIV BYL BABUSHKA I DEVUSHKA – so, there,
mere, bare, rare… and then I realise that today, or maybe
yesterday, it was my twenty-third birthday, Insha'Allah!
Insha'Allah! Huge timid girls, called out the peasants, now even I
don't know how many days and nights I've been here, I don't open
my eyes, the eyelids are so heavy and swollen, and not just my
eyes but also my arms and legs, everything hurts, it feels as
though I'm falling apart, how many times did I have to pick my
head up off the floor and put it back in its place in between my
shoulders, I'm worried that if I sit on it then the weight of my
body would crush it, my bottom row of teeth are chattering against
the upper row, I'm putting a finger up to my lips and chewing on
it, I think that I'm fooling somebody, I'm chewing on my tongue as
though its a… I mean: does this cause more hunger or should hunger
be left to run amok throughout my body when there's nothing you
can do, don’t oppose it, instead carry on with it in the same
direction, merge with it and embrace it, so the body gets used to
it and withstands it better, why am I chewing when I can't taste
anything other than my own saliva and the chewed-off skin from my
own finger, and so, I carry on thinking: what would it be like to
chew my finger at the joint and thus suppress my hunger, alas,
I'll even do this, I think that this would be the first case of
self-cannibalism, what a great thing for a shocking headline in
the newspaper's evening edition, even though I'll inevitably end
up there, irrespective of whatever fate befalls me here, why
shouldn't I finally take my first cigarette, she counted them and
made sure that there were five of them, should I smoke them or eat
them so that they would poison me, that'd put an end to me sooner,
Ida made fun of herself out of misery and wondered what to do with
the piece of paper, she once again called upon God, but this time
at Allah's address, uttering both letters a like resonant and
guttural h as though she was stood before the Kaaba in Mecca,
Allahu Akbar, says she, but she can feel her finger burning, she
can feel its bone, ritually she takes out a match out of the box,
flicks one and at the same moment it was as though she came out of
hell itself, she climbed out from the ninth circle onto the very
edge of the pit, she saw her image in the mirror, which resembled
everything other than the former beauty of Tevhida Agalar so that
from this she felt so much self pity, she burst into tears, the
tears poured on their own accord, cry you wretch, cry, she
encouraged herself, just cry as much as your soul needs it – CRY,
BELOVED COUNTRY – cry, may your eyes leak out from crying, this is
after all the valley of tears, she admitted pathetically as if at
a confession, oh blah blah… but she couldn’t be bothered to
pronounce more, read Dog, she continued in her Šatrovački slang,
right now I'd like to be sitting on the little bench beneath
Rizvan's mulberry tree, drinking coffee from a small Bosnian cup
and listening to the chatter of the town girls, who was, like,
getting off with who? how d'you know? I, like, just know that I
know! you think? what's there to think 'bout when I know, see,
it's like that isn't it, you can see from her, what is there to
know, cry, you wretch – BENVENUTI – I need to make a move, I need
to do something, to admire this holy light until the match burns
out, she warmed her hope on the dying flame, and then, entirely by
chance, turned her glance to that gnawed finger which only started
burning now when she saw how what a bloody, sticky mess it was,
and before the match snuffed out – THE CHILD WITH NINE
CANDLESTICKS – she saw the scattered pieces of broken glass on the
floor, she swiftly tries to raise the flame up above her head to
see where the panel is which one should open in case of the lift
stopping, she stood agog just like the first Christians in the
catacombs when they'd be reading through the clandestine signs and
letters, the trouble was that the instructions were for an
instance when there are people around you and you can call them at
any moment or warn them that you need help, but these people are
coincidentally – what a coincidence! – they're friends with cigars
between their teeth and they've gone to America, curse them and me
with them, she listed all of this world's gods and all of its
saints, you're not going to start blubbing again are, your tears
could power a generator that would bathe the whole world in bright
light, they haven't got the slightest clue that I'm here, like a
bona fide cunt, stuck in a lift holding a burned-out match which
is now frying the tip of my finger, in order, like a cunt, to keep
the light just a micro-second longer, and then she remembered her
image in the mirror once again, oh dear me, what have I seen, she
made a scornful expression with her face as though she'd caught
sight of some repulsive poisonous insect, she herself found it
hard to believe that it was really her there… really her image, in
turbulent ripples a suspicion occurred to her that rather than
herself it was actually Satan himself; us Bogomils believe in him,
why wouldn't he come to us in either dreams or reality, every now
and then faith has to prove itself, isn't that so, she implored
herself not to burst into tears once again, for the love of
Christ, despite everything, she once again broke down, in the name
of God, it's as though there's a whole Amazon of tears in me, just
how many of them are there, once again she thinks about that same
hyperbole from a little earlier, I could even make electricity out
of this shit, she says out loud, thinking that God himself will
hear her cry and give her the strength to really be able to do
that, you're not allowed to drop dead here because it doesn’t even
befit the mangiest mutt, plan your strength, you're tired and
desperate right now, that'll pass, Him up there isn't ready to
call for you yet, you need to fight not just with your arms and
legs but also with your fingers, scratch at these walls which are
only made out of smooth plastic, you're strong, the strongest –
STRONG, STRONGER, THE STRONGEST – you've got the nature of a horse
and the character of a serpent, you can endure that which even a
horse is in no condition to endure, you're not allowed to be like
your unfortunate father, you're not allowed to wither away, you
know, my dear, life is an eternal ordeal, he said, and she in fact
remembered a conversation which she'd once had with her mother
when completely by chance she had asked her, mum, I want to ask
you something but I'm not sure what, you know everything, you do
know everything don't you? – lets say, eenie meenie miny moe,
why's it bit of mummy's toe?
dear daddy i went for mary mummy said i could go i will come back soon love you
so much Idushka ive left the key under the mat i can't wait for you to come home
5.
Even after she'd left her dream, she still couldn't regain her
composure for some time, nor come out of that which had until
moments earlier had a hold of her and tormented her, so she
continued to remain seated in silence, huddled up on the floor,
not doing anything in particular, apart from eventually stretching
out her legs so that the blood could rush back into them once
again, lifting them up to the side for a moment, then upwards for
a moment, and once she'd more or less got into a position whereby
she almost felt a sense of physical pleasure, she attempted to
remember that which had bothered her in her dream, and was still
right now causing a sharp pain in her chest, but she muttered to
herself, wasn't she herself maybe hurrying along the street like a
dog on heat and she didn’t used to find anything, and she
resembled that Spaniard who doesn't have anything to eat but comes
home at lunchtime and sits at an empty table upon which there
isn't any bread or wine, he waits for the others to finish their
lunch, the square is deserted and sleepy under the relentless sun,
from all the windows the one crossing the square first after lunch
will be seen, but at a convenient moment the man gets up, puts a
toothpick between his teeth and crosses the square picking at them
because – Christ almighty! – everybody needs to believe that he
had eaten since otherwise he'll never manage to bite; well this is
death, she thinks, complete and utter, one hundred per cent
concentrated death which is not thought about, nor sung about but
rather is feared in cataclysmic proportions when you're stunned by
the power of its presence, so that she feels, merely, a waterfall
of her own saliva, damn a thousand Satans, she says, but her voice
was no longer as fearsome as she'd expected it to be or as she'd
wanted to hear it, rather it was so puny that it made her anxious
heart beat even more strongly, the masses are, she considered,
essentially cannibalistic, and out of this conclusion she was shot
by the realisation that you need to keep away from people who
often smile because in doing so they are revealing their teeth
which are the weapons of hunger, the same as with those who stand,
secretly instilling fear into those who sit, she interpreted this
as yet another omen within the terrible impression that precisely
today the day had come when something fateful would have to
happen, you can hear it from here, even though in this darkness
you can see with your own eyes how something was scratching from
down below, because of which she didn't dare exhale, fearing that
she might reveal herself to the intruder, so she had to lower her
hands gently so as to push against them and lower her legs as
quietly as possible, for God's sake, if she can manage that, it
flashes through her dreamy head, first she'll have to put out her
hands to slide her body up the wall, but for this it's necessary
to have strong support in your legs so as to be able to somehow
get up onto your legs, then it'll probably already be easier with
the unknown scratcher – what the bloody hell could it be? – a
little earlier, maybe, she might have moved and it had been this
which had made the noise, I doubt it, she thought, or perhaps it
was from a shirt, hand or foot scraping across the floor, she
wondered, but she couldn't work out what was going on, and then,
all of a sudden, something entirely possible came to mind, that
the intruder had in fact come to visit her through some sort of a
hole or a gap, meaning that it's entirely possible that there's
some new creature here in the lift with me, which will henceforth
abide with her in the darkness, breathe, watch her with its eyes,
just as she tries to see it too, just as lonely as her, just as
afraid, petrified out of fear, and because of that it was now
probably keeping quiet and staring into the darkness out of which
a danger for its little life could come, because however much she
strained her ears, stalked by a terrible feeling that she was no
longer the only living creature there, in all of these five
minutes of horrendous waiting she hadn't been able to catch the
sound of anything, nor even hear anything still scratching, nor
catch a single suspicious noise, it didn't even cross her mind to
stamp her feet on the floor of the lift and by doing so frighten
off and chase away the unknown guest, and to force it into
whichever hole there was, because from where else would this
creature have been able to come from, by now she was so overcome
by curiosity that for at least a moment she forgot the danger
which she'd been thinking about moments earlier, that this unknown
thing could prick her skin with its stinger and that she'd get a
blister full of poison, which would well and truly put an end to
her today, and then the remaining like-minded creatures from the
same biological class will come and eat away at her body so that
all that would be left of her is a gnawed-upon skeleton which will
descend to the ground-floor when Sir and Madam call the lift
having returned from America, it came out of her mouth, but she
was ready from before for it not to betray her, but thus on the
other hand she was betrayed by something entirely unforeseeable,
she could feel at that very moment how her pants became wet from
fear, and at the same time a feeling of pleasantness indefinitely
spilled all over her body, she grabs her groin with her hand, then
pressed her fist into her muff as though it was at the very least
the start of a spontaneous miscarriage rather than the most common
act of pissing or an orgasm due to nerves, whatever it was, fuck
them and my body and me and those fucking idiots who sensed that
this could be my end at any moment, well you won't, she thought,
nodding her head just as one usually does when annoyed, but she
didn't have the strength for this, well you won't, you parasite
bastards, you can do it to whoever you want, but not me, you won't
be seeing that show, I swear, you won't see it, feel free to
return your tickets back to the till but you won't be seeing this
striptease, I'll postpone death if needs be, you fucks – MAMMA MIA
– if only that thing was between my legs I wouldn’t say a thing,
whatever you do Ida don't turn the tap on now, there'd be a flood
up to your knees, to your throat, do you really want to be Noah in
your wooden boat ark after Judgement Day, with squinting eyes she
assured herself, seeping some rustling noises between her lips and
doing God knows what else, o-o, o-o-o, she therein began to ooo,
may I be flushed away if that happens, if I just had a tiny bit of
fresh air, it seems to me as though I'd fly away out of happiness,
so, old girl, breathe calmly through your nose, she ordered
herself, breathe through your gills if necessary, breathe through
your pores if must do – NOTHING IS DIFFICULT WHICH MUST BE DONE –
if you're planning whatsoever to stay alive then surely you won't
permit yourself to breathe in the stench of your own piss, as
though a cow has just pissed beneath you, oh God, she inhaled the
air as much as she could holding firmly shut the valves on both of
her taps – both front and back – surely the gaskets won't blow
under the pressure of my own piss and shit, pathetic old me, what
can I do with it? I can't go backwards with it but I can't go
forwards with it either, so, therefore, that's how I looked in
that dream if I didn't just invent the whole thing and imagine
that I in fact dreamed it, because I can't say for sure with any
certainty whether that was really my recollection or whether I
just heard it in passing somewhere, out of fear, sucked out from
her little finger, my God, my plea to God for him to spare me has
gone unanswered, because soon, indeed, I, just as every living
creature has to, felt the need to defecate and quite possibly it
would be accompanied by urination - ONE BAD DEED IS ALWAYS
ACCOMPANIED BY ANOTHER – if I don't do that then it'll come out
through my mouth, did I really have to go just now, she growled at
herself, still shattered by some strange slumber, when at the same
time she thought how it would now be nice to nap for a little
longer and screw over that shit and force it into a different
corner to be stored there, but there was absolutely no chance of
this because they'd decided to come out right now and they'd come
out even if she put twelve padlocks on her arse and closed a zip
on her sphincter itself, something from the bowels gets a
dignified answer in the form of a bowel movement, which she took
as a call for it to be high time to move on from words to actions,
to do something serious – IN ORDER TO REMOVE THE CAUSE OF NATURAL
DISASTERS – to put something in her gob before something bad
happens, she in fact remembered her matches, how many of them were
left, she asked herself, if by any chance I were that child with
nine candlesticks then I could light them so that nine girls or
even nine boys would dance until midnight, and that after midnight
each one of them would pull out a pouch of gold coins from their
belt for me, but, as soon as she thought this, she bit her tongue,
oh, hard cheese, what would I do with all of that treasure here,
just to want the most common of things like some unfortunate Midas
– to get drunk and stuff myself – she admitted to herself in
complete resignation, in this lift, one moment you're there, the
next moment you're not, one moment you're there, the next moment
you aren't, it pays to be mindlessly persistent here so that out
of somewhere – from the stratosphere, from the bottom of the
Pacific Ocean, from your mother's cunt, you summon hope and
patience, which even an ass would be left without, that someone
will nevertheless pick you up from here alive, are there more
disgusting situations than this one which I'm in, when you're in
prison – meaning that you've stolen, killed, so your heart can be
in place – you deserved it and so pine away there, you can act the
hero, you get buried alive in a mine – you were working and doing
an honourable task, so here you can also act the hero, you died on
the road, well you probably acted heroically there as well, heroes
are everywhere, apart from those people who are stuck in lifts,
there's no scabies or rabies or any other malady worse that this
shit which I've got myself into here, she said uttering her final
words out loud, but she could no longer hold inside of herself
that which with all of its strength was trying to get out of her,
and so in a jiffy she stripped off her pants, positioned her
backside between two edges, feeling the cold plastic against her
skin, trying to do her business in the very corner, she squatted,
closed her eyes as though to seek a pardon from the Merciful and
the Compassionate, mumbling a prayer to herself when such an
opportunity came up for it, in which she sought pardon for that
which she was in fact doing, she could feel how her anus was
becoming ever wider, making a passage for V-1 and V-2: at the
entrance HRH appeared, looking moody, probably because they
weren't letting him out when he'd already submitted a request for
this, since when had this become so important for them to hold him
up at the border for so long, he tumbled down with all the
accompaniments, good day to you, Ida – GOOD DAY TO YOU, SORROW!
BON GIORNO, TRISTEZA! – she heard its salutation, leaving at the
same time a huge sense of relief upon his departure – WHAT IS IT,
WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME WHEN IT'S EASIER FOR YOU NOW? – besides,
she could feel a burning sensation around the place where HRH's
horsemen swept along on their fast steeds, it was now entirely
clear that she would have to count upon living alongside her own
faeces, and also alongside her own urine, which was still spouting
between her straddled legs, a gush as thick as a hand, so that she
now looked like the Golden Gate, it was a good thing that her
panties had been yanked down to her knees, otherwise with her legs
she'd have stepped over to Japan just so as not to get them wet
from the ocean out of which she could without any problems make an
ammoniac soup, but God knows how, by chance, she remembered an
episode from her life when she'd been a young girl of about ten or
eleven years of age, when her mum and dad had divorced, having
been unable to see or hear one another, after which the court
awarded her to her mother's care, albeit with her father having to
pay a monthly alimony, which was so small that the unfortunate
woman was forced to write a complaint against her former husband
to the court every so often and, via a lawyer, seek from the
honourable and esteemed court an increase in the benefits for the child
due to this or that, such as inflation, or she found on his bank
statement that he had some additional income, meaning that his,
shall we say, alimony was purely symbolic, it was no longer
economic, less still pedagogic, it wasn't even aid but rather pure
one hundred per cent concentrated piss-taking, it was no longer
symbolic but rather complete and utter mockery etc., and, practically,
with my humble income which I have to raise my and his daughter, Tevhida Agalar...
thus from day to day she wrote a comprehensive accusation against
her former husband, whilst, during this time, little Ida grew,
like a flower, ever more beautiful, her unbridled beauty catching
many a male eye, but she didn't care for even one of them, nor
give them a second thought, nor give an encouraging look or a
word, for which many reproached her for being conceited and that
sooner or later some bloke will come by who will know how to get
her and prove that even a healer can be fooled, because – dear God
– we used to be like that as well, women would say in amazement,
even though not one of them had looks which could stand up against
Ida's, but to be like her, conceited as though she was Soltaniyeh
and made of glass – God forbid, never! just the job, but the hen
will sit on the egg and Tima the fortune-teller saw in the cards
and beans that this miracle will be in seven days, seven month or
seven years time, and if it doesn't happen then the people should
spit in her mouth, she’ll open it for everyone, and in the dregs
of the coffee she discovered that Ida will get married so
unhappily that she couldn't be any less happy, and that would be
to some pygmy with a great big hump over his right shoulder, but
why with a hump? why doesn't she marry out of pride and joy, the
women asked themselves, crossing their fingers beneath the table
that it would really be like this, but Tima calmly answered them
that such a fate awaits any beauty who has a mole beneath her left
breast, this is God's mark upon the heart and, also, a curse;
through this, God charges for every act of arrogance which must be
possessed by every person who He above has marked the heart of,
believe me, you'll see, my dear friends, Tima convinced them, and
her words didn't come from this world but the other, if it is not
as the beans say, Tima will stop in the middle of the Junction,
she said and opened up her toothless gob within which there
remained just a single, broken and entirely black tooth with which
she held on to a cigarette, live to see – LONG LIVE THE OLD WOMAN
AND THE YOUNG GIRL – and women being women, turning their heads as
if they're not their own, who’ll deal with Tima? dare to oppose
her, say something to her, she'd fly right into your mouth; thus
all units approved such dark premonitions in which each of them
saw Tevhid's demise in their own way, so, the village began to
chatter away about this so much that even those who Ida would have
just looked upon as small fry pulled out the last lover's joker,
you, you peahen, will be with a pygmy, with a sort of saddle, he
was showing the frightened girl with his palms the hump in the
shape of a ball on his back, you will, you will, damn it, that’s
your destiny and that’s the way it’s going to be, it won't even be
yours forever, upon the Bible, and eventually these stories and
the teasing reached Ida's father, so one day Abaz Agalar arrived
in front of his ex-wife’s flat, having priorly received her
approval to spend the weekend with Tevhida who, given that she
could never forget the unpleasantness surrounding the alimony, had
been left in front of the building in which they lived, but
observing him stealthily from behind the curtains and having
confirmed to herself that he was still as equally handsome and
beautiful as he had been when she'd fallen head over heels for him
as a schoolgirl, well, she now covertly observed that ex of hers
who was still presentable and her equally presentable daughter who
– hand on heart – was the spitting image of her father, she saw
how the pair of them embraced honestly, her around his neck as she
perched on her tiptoes, and he around her waist, the pair having
exchanged kisses to the cheeks, she hears Ida's giggle (with her
Ida would only grin), she watches how they got into a white Austin
and left, becoming lost in the stream of cars which were rushing
on Saturdays and Sundays towards the seaside, she was overcome by
such melancholy that at that moment she felt how her throat
tightened, there were no more tears, whatever was left burned her
eyes or in her tear-ducts, she felt how a thousand needles were
piercing her eyes, once again she saw her father-in-law beside the
road with his face plunged into a puddle of his own blood from a
bullet which he himself had fired in fear after having a road
accident after a couple of hundred miles, and having got out of
the smashed up car and seeing that his daughter lay motionless in
the passenger's seat, he thought that the girl was dead and so
came back to the car, took out a handgun from the glove-
compartment which he'd brought along to deal with his wife in the
case that she wouldn't give him his daughter for the weekend, and
in the heat of the moment, having held the barrel up to his
temple, he pulled the trigger and fell face-first onto the tarmac,
which a moment or so later began to fill with his blood.
6.
In silence she listened to the scratching, which had by now
become somewhat more frequent and more pronounced, she could feel
how she was once again being overcome by an unspeakable shivering
and loneliness, which was giving her goosebumps, particularly on
her skull, and so, right now, she began to feel in complete awe,
she continued carefully to listen to the mysterious sounds coming
from down below, and then she realised that she'd have to take
some action, otherwise she'd soon suffocate from the stench of
rot, which couldn't in any way dissipate from here but instead
gathered and poured in through her pores, slowly but surely
poisoning her in this way, and where did this come from? from her
very own faeces which she hadn't been able to hold inside herself,
which she'd had to get out, oh, to hell with it, I've got to light
a match, so that I can think up some way of getting light, I'll
just have to get my already mole-like eyes accustomed to it, but
the flame might go out by then, and then she gets the box of
matches out of her pocket, shakes them, she could hear that there
weren't many of them left, she was troubled by a terrible feeling
of the solemn moment when she would again see her face in the
mirror, and likewise the silence after those mysterious scratching
noises from unknown intruders finally ceased, meaning that in that
sepulchral silence she could hear and feel her heart beating, she
placed her fingers upon her heart where she could feel it beneath
her breast, it's probably worth knowing, she told herself in a
snappy voice, that you're not allowed to make a single mistake,
this small amount of common sense which you still have left should
be used intelligently so that this beautiful body wouldn’t rot
away, the unfortunate girl encouraged herself, but that box of
matches began to cause her angst, she opened up her fist and
touched the box with a finger as though it was the one remaining
relic, and therein she took out one of the matches, passed the tip
of her finger over its plump phosphorus head, she turned it over
so that the head was touching the striking board, beneath her
finger she feels that it is sufficiently dry to be able to strike
against, in God’s name, I can't let the phosphorus fall off the
head, I need to be a hundred per cent careful, she says, and at
the same moment she drags the match along the length of the box,
the little flame begins to hiss and then the first fire which
Prometheus stole from the gods and gave to mankind lights up, and
she, all radiant from some sort of mixed-up excitement, paused not
knowing whether just to admire or make use of the small amount of
time which the match's flame would last for, there was no time to
waste, she had to act quickly, the first thing to do was to look
in the direction of the mirror, for God's sake, she cried, from
there in the gloominess she observed an elder woman with bulging
eyes and large rings around them, but there was no time to waste
since the flame had eaten up half the match already, there was
only a quarter of its overall length left, taking into account
that a quarter of it was taken up by the two fingers which were
holding on to it at the very end, and she could not count on that
unless she was willing to get herself a great big blister on her
fingertips, which wouldn't be particularly pleasant to treat in
the darkness with just her breath, and besides that she wouldn’t
be able to light the next match with those same blisters and to
maintain that flame for as long as possible, she had just long
enough to take a glance down at the lift's floor, where she caught
sight of her faeces which had also somewhat dirtied the wall, at
the same moment she screwed up her lips out of disgust, and thus,
as such, instinctively clasped her nose, and with her other hand
moved towards her eyes, having felt as though she could soon burst
into tears out of the most sincere and enormous self-pity, but
just as the dying flame licked at her fingers, she instinctively
threw away the match and in that moment, while it was still flying
towards the floor with a tiny flicker of the remaining spark, she
once again saw that which a little earlier had induced her to sigh
so painfully, hey, my dear girl, how did you wrong God so much
that he's still rubbing salt into your wound, she once again
listened to the sound of her breath, having convinced herself once
again that she was still alive and that nothing was lost yet, so
it was definitely worth her fighting on, and nothing comes from
despair, calm down, she encouraged herself, calm down, don't let
some unexpected devil take you by surprise, then you’re really up
the creek without a paddle, she carried on convincing herself as
though she were faced with some grubby child, calm down if you're
planning on doing something clever, you need to blindly believe in
yourself, right now you've got to have a heart of stone so that it
won't fly out of your chest and get smashed into a billion little
pieces, I know now is the time of hunger, I need to fight equally
vigorously against that as well as against this darkness and the
silence, and also against this stench, and in order to be able to
wrestle against it, I need to invest my remaining strength in
mentally and physically protecting myself and not destroying my
nerves and so I must, I must, I must, she began to recite
neurotically, I must, I must, but a certain dose of caution turned
her away from this dangerous flow of thought, and she then headed
off in an entirely different direction so that at the same moment
she began to mock herself, the corners of her lips bent and so she
couldn't quite comprehend what sort of expression she had on her
face: was she flirting with it or will it turn into a tearful
grimace at any moment, her thoughts continued: I will have to
remember the changes on the calendar and the daily alterations, to
divide the day into specific periods in which I will have to
concentrate on completely specific topics, I'll play out scenes
which I've seen, novels and travelogues which I've read, and I'll
recite their contents in a quite voice, I'll remember
conversations with my friends, I'll recite lyrics, excerpts from
heroic poems which I learned off by heart in school, like the
lines from Hasanagica, Omer and Merima, Pedrag and Nenad, you know – A
MOTHER FEEDS TWO INFANT SONS, / IN THOSE TERRIBLE DAYS AND STARVED
YEARS, / BESIDE HER LOOMS HER RIGHT HAND… – I'll sing songs which
are all the sadder, the saddest which I can remember, those
Slavonian round dances and Slovene limericks always got on my
nerves, there was never any heart or soul in them, there wasn't
any understanding for the suffering of others, everything was
subordinate to genitalia and petty-bourgeois complacency, a happy
person is, by his very nature, usually ambivalent to whatever's
going on around him, he's sufficient unto himself and doesn't need
anybody else, just as youth is sufficient unto itself, and
likewise happiness is sufficient unto itself, and because of this
happiness and youth were always strangers to me, they haven't got
any understanding, nor love nor tenderness, for them the whole
world is just the most common design and decoration; I therefore
have to sing songs – sevdalinkas – if I need to speak to myself,
she mumbled to herself, but at that moment, in a blurry outline, a
vision appeared before her: she saw herself beneath a huge rock,
whilst in front of her stood a young, grinning investigator who
firstly outlined what she'd been accused of, having pointed out to
her, ostensibly in passing, how it would she'd be best to just
admit everything since the court would take her confession as a
mitigating circumstance when handing down its sentence, the
grinning guy said, and entered her name into the file which lay
there in front of him, then he asked her, do you admit that you
did evil things and that your forbidden sect directed you in this,
to which she answered entirely calmly that she admitted this, but
the investigator did not stop at this, and told her that he was
pleased that she had admitted this immediately, not forgetting to
add that he believes that she is an intelligent girl and that he
knows how this can help her and that he knows what this will mean
in the subsequent investigative procedure, if you tell me
everything, he continued, your punishment won't be so severe, so,
tell me, who talked you into this, and immediately she blurted
out, Satan! Satan! Sa-tan! And where did you meet Satan, asked the
investigator as calmly as he could, even though his lips and
nostrils were visibly twitching, at Bilino polje, thunders the
girl, but you don't live in Bilino polje, did you go there to meet
him, I did, says the girl, and did you enter his house, no, says
the girl, well where did you meet, beneath a huge rock, says the
girl, well how did you recognise him, he waved to me and grinned,
said the girl, apart from that he's the same as us, and moreover,
it seems, kinder than us, and who told you that he'd wait for you
under that rock, nobody told me, says the girl, intuition led me
there, I was certain that I'd meet him there, and how did you
recognise him, I knew that he'd be stood there but I also
recognised him because he was rustling papers, said the girl, so,
Satan was there, yes, he was, answered the girl.
7.
Just at the time when hunger was severely tormenting her and
she was having a torturous dialogue with herself in her dreams, it
happened that she went through a lonely park with a large garden
made up of the overgrown tunnels of thick boxwood trees and that
she heard an unfamiliar voice behind her, that voice, which she
somehow recognised from somewhere, called out her name, but as
soon as she turned around she saw a young man hurrying to meet
her, and seeing him evoked in her something which she'd once
written in her secret notes, which she kept from time to time
exclusively for her own personal reasons:
Antonio Sforza, as he once told me, spent years studying Latin sources concerning
the Cathars, the Italian Patarines and heretics, and went so far into this that through
accentuated and metric chanting he'd attempted to get as close to possible to all potential
characteristics of the expressions of that language, particularly with regards to how it was
offered by the secret life of Bosnian Christians, and he would – as he himself admitted to
me – catch himself, as he was studying the rhythmic properties of that language,
attempting to form severe criticism against the heretics through this; to bridge that
distance in time which was much too big for him to be able to judge, with any certainty,
upon the motives which had made the Vatican chroniclers write them or to figure out
whether, within them, the ideological bias had the purpose of pleasing the pleasant and
flattering side or if it was actually the sordidness or the intricacy that pleased a greed for
fame and false confidence, therefore he used to observe historical problems by chopping
up those texts linguistically, attempting to see that which was hidden within them from a
close proximity; so to speak, the syntactical lustre of a particular language carried within
itself the seed of its disintegration. That's just as absurd as if a Bogomil were to be found
on a list of future Cardinals. A person who is pleasant to listen to but a person who in
absolutely no circumstance should be listened to. Simply put, a person whose words cause
unbearable pain.
Antonio Sforza is worthy of respect. He didn't know, even though he often accused
me. He does good where it is possible. Not to mention his education. He possesses an
attractive power and superiority over many. A good appearance, a decent height, a
beautiful exterior, a little surplus of charm, but clearly without the gift of leadership.
Aware of his personality, primarily in his relations towards those lower than himself, and
only then gradually towards those higher than himself. But you've got to give him credit
for one thing: he knows how to keep quiet, even in a friendship, and I knew this better
than he would have expected of me. He wouldn't allow surprise to fill him with joy so that
it wouldn't be noticed that this really was a surprise for him, rather just something
normal.
While she was surrendering to the free flow of these internal
images which resembled dreams, out of this stream, first and
foremost, two images emerged and remained there for a longer time:
in one of them she saw herself as a child playing in the hallway,
and in the other it was you who appeared, Charles III, joy and
hope resurrected in me when I set eyes upon you, you were walking
down the street, I recognised you from behind by the way in which
you were walking and called out your name straight away – CH-AR-
LES THE THI-RD – even though till that point I’d never seen you or
met you, I said to myself, finally a person – ECCE HOMO – finally,
a friend, at last a person with the ability to understand, you had
to have seen how pleased I was and how much I expected of you, I
was so happy to see such a face there before me, a face which
seemed to me similar to somebody who I'd seen somewhere in my
childhood and which still reverberates painfully in my memory,
but, my beloved Charlie, what an evening that was, full of
inversions, tiresome and useless, an evening which destroyed my
illusions by having inexorably explained to me that I'm a stranger
not only to you but also to myself, disappointed and impatient,
without thought or caution that in this sort of world it's
necessary to disguise oneself because everything is fake and
fragile, and behind the smile there lurks apathy and a heart of
stone, there's no passion other than hatred, everything is
exaggerated apart from love, and love is, above all, a stammer of
the body whilst the soul is bothered and bored by torturing
itself, reprehending, complaining, lying, impeccably disguised,
and it'd already been deceived, condescending with forced
politeness, hungry for ever and ever, abandoned and distressed,
nothing comes of all those words other than boredom and suffering,
useless offence and accusations; why do we need our whole lives to
understand that and admit it to ourselves, I'm ashamed, it was
shame, shame always bound me to the pair of us, the way we're able
without scruples to use the coincidence that we're both alive, the
chance of being together by chance, I began to seriously hold that
irony as the start of my schism with this world as it is, the only
way out which I could see was to make a mockery out of that and
clearly visualise myself in some mirror of mine, because when a
person is finished with people, all that remains is silence and
laughter, when all the illusions have disappeared he then realises
that he no longer belongs to anybody as he had once believed, and
then he becomes an outcast and an enemy to everyone, said Ida, and
then she continued her contemplation with sadness, that's what us
Bogomils are like, the memory of them amongst my people is
shamefully buried and causes embarrassment in honourable
individuals for assimilating into others, having left them the
historical mark of betrayal, so that neither history nor legend
allows them to let the soul of the Bogomil die in them, oh, she
sighed, it's only that deep and painful cut which they can't laugh
at, so how can you live your life and not offend your pride, how
can you offer someone a hand when that hand is empty and you've
nothing to offer – neither advice, nor friendship, nor
consolation, because we don't recognise one another's faces – this
is a scholastically tailored world in which people cowardly live
miserable lives and do everything against which the Bogomils
fought against, and when, feeling thoroughly sleepy, she concluded
that final thought of hers, she felt in the dark how altered and
radiant her face was, and at the same time she was overcome by a
kind of sinister and unsavoury excitement.
8.
For as long as she could remember, she had lived for years in
an apathetic gloom, she could even recall the smallest detail if
some sadness would remind her of it, and so sometimes she would
sit for hours beneath a tree, motionless and rigid, bringing life
to the imagined images in sections which now seemed to her as
though they were no longer part of her, rather that she'd heard
the story from someone else and was now just attributing it to
herself, she didn't pay attention to the balance in her soul,
which was quite disordered, so much so that those new
circumstances brought her to an extremely difficult, sensitive and
exposed position, and so she, attempting to find some fresh air by
using a paper tissue, recalled her virgin body upon the bedding,
which had a little earlier been ruined by one of her peers, whose
name, right now, she was in no fit state to remember, whether he
had freckles on his face or not, she'd already returned for the
millionth time to that same scene where their confused looks are
carved into that sharp cut in her memory after both of them, at
the same moment, looked down at that fresh, blood stain on the
white sheet, and she, so as to conceal it, in a jiffy, plonked her
bare sweaty buttocks down upon it, she felt the sticky liquid
between her bum's hemispheres beneath her and asked herself
whether this was really it? where's the beauty and charm? and the
youngster was also fatally confused and speechless, with that
moronic look upon his face, now – oh God! – she didn't know
whether it was freckled or not, the lad tried to embrace her,
albeit clumsily around the neck, and he tried to console her with
words, there's nothing to be afraid of, love, I'm telling you,
that'll pass, she listened, but the pain swelled and spilled into
her bowels, and that blended stench of cum and blood spread out
through the August sunshine as proof that it had really been done
and that a time which is called maidenhood had been waved goodbye
to forever, we ladies are entering a new world, a world in which
there are no more secrets for us, I felt HRH between my outspread
legs, the gates of heaven would be forever ajar, and I'm a real
woman now for whom no more secrets remained, which was a privilege
for the elder, it's only now that I understand those latent,
muffled whispers, sighs and moans exchanged between mother and
father which I'd listened in to whilst hiding behind the door, and
I cried stifled tears as much as I could before my cries would
give me away because I'd definitely get a beating for that,
because why would I be the witness to my father strangling,
choking, beating and doing whatever else to my mother? the next
day I stealthily observed my mother as a martyr and a victim of my
father and was even more amazed by her entirely normal behaviour;
moreover, she didn't let me say a single bad word about my father,
because he, for God's sake, was my father, my only father, nobody
else could be my father other than him (an ingenious idea!),
that's that and it can't be any other way (an even more ingenious
idea!), and if he's a little uptight and yells at either you or
me, dear God, that's something entirely normal Ida, other people
are far worse off, my mum said to me with her back turned to me as
she dealt with the dirty washing up from the night before, and the
whole time I stared at her meaty hands and rolls of skin above her
elbows, but I thought to myself, he doesn't just shout at you, he
also strangles, chokes and beats you and wants to kill you, and
you still don't want to admit this, thinking that I'm still too
young and that because of that I'd hate my father, that I wouldn't
be able to understand how he tortures you, last night he wanted to
strangle you, I heard it with my own ears, I heard it last night
while I was hidden behind the door, you don't realise that I was
hidden behind the door last night and that I head everything from
A to Z, you don't know it and you'll never know it, when you're
like that and don't want to confide in me as a mother can in her
daughter, you haven't got a shred of confidence in me, so why
would I say where I was hidden last night, so there, Ida recalled
these sorts of scenes from her life, and once again she returned
to that same scene from earlier when her buttocks hovered over the
fresh bloody stain so as to hide it from the sweaty and confused
boy's view, hell, did I mix those freckles up with moles, and then
at the very last moment I covered the stain with the corner of the
sheet, everything will be alright, the boy was saying, I'm telling
you, he panted in a broken falsetto somewhere above my ears and
the only thing I was aware of was that he could be anything to me
but dear and close, at that point I longed to be on my own, but I
also wanted him to be with me, God bloody knows what I wanted
then, for him not to leave me then when I most needed him there
beside me, oh God, I though, trembling like a poplar, if only I
had someone to comfort and calm me now, my father – lets say –
it’s nothing, my child, it’s nothing, well one fine day, who knows
whether it was in August or not, your mother also lost her
virginity to some brat or superstar, either on a writing table, a
bag of potatoes or up against a wall, a quickie – she never wanted
to tell me who it was with – but so what? it wasn't the end of the
world then just as isn't the end of the world now, so there,
that's the famous battle of the generations, when old people
blabber rubbish to young people about how what they're doing is a
straight path to the end of the world, just as they who are
currently being mistreated will convince those who are just now
being born that they're bringing about the end of the world, as
though they'd brought us into this world through immaculate
conception; I was fifteen years old, as I said, it was August, I
think, the start of August, and I pulled the corner of the sheet
over me, pantiless and dicked, and my darling, who knows how many
times, checks whether the doors have been boarded up, just in
case, he flicks the switch to turn the light off; lovers love
darkness, I remember that I'd in fact given some thought to this,
just in case somebody uninvited barged in, I still didn't allow
him to turn the light on because, it seemed to me, that this would
frighten us even more, like when tiny insects get frightened when
you turn a stone over into the light of day; lovers love darkness,
I remember that I'd in fact given some thought to this.
9.
I think that today's the tenth day I've been here, but I still
don't think that time here should be divided up in the way that it
usually gets divided, in order to divide my suffering into little
pieces so it would be easier to endure, easier to bear, because,
eventually, you can only imagine what it would be like if I were
to be faced with immeasurable time, hours, minutes, labelled by
one number after which follows a sting of zeros into infinity, and
each of these little parts needs to be lived through, in
starvation, ladies and gentlemen, a month without food in a lift –
OH, IS IT REALLY POSSIBLE? YES, WE ARE THE PROLETARIANS! – she
began to recall a distant school recital at which from the tenth
row she'd had to call out the chorus from one of Ćopić's poems,
yet this contribution simply didn't fit into the lyrics' rhythm,
is that really possible? she said – YES, WE ARE THE
PROLETARIANS!... MOTHER, GIVE ME A NEEDLE AND SOME RED THREAD SO
THAT I CAN SOW TOGETHER A PARTISAN CAP FOR THIS WOUNDED SOLDIER –
yes, my little Ida-beaver, you grew apart from your matrix, you
alienated yourself, you've betrayed your primordial soul
forevermore and dug a chasm between yourself and reality, between
principle and circumstance, you don't even understand yourself,
you don't know what you want nor what you wish for, your an enemy
and a stranger unto yourself, your misfortune isn't based in you
having duped others but rather because you've lied to yourself,
you've dallied with your own heart, you appreciated it like a
guaranteed friend, learning from the rules which would keep you on
the surface of the water, but you wanted to dive under, to dive
deep and dive to the very bottom, oh, God, who can I address if
not you, you're my only hope, you're the only merciful one even
though I am unworthy of Thy name, at least I'll tell you that what
I felt from you in myself, thus, I – Tevhida Agalar – believing in
your patience, am addressing you with a request that you try to
listen to me if I am at all worthy of your grace, but since there
is room in your heart for everything, even for those who didn't
believe in You, which was the case with me, I hope that my words
will be more poetic than a true dialogue between You and me,
because poetry has always been obliquity for miscreants, it
plunges the mind into a vast inescapable abysses, but You want to
save the sinful man who continuously doubts that which a normal
spirit would not dare to doubt, because of that You are merciless
towards poets and liars because they do not have a measure, they
are in league with the devil, who tries to bring chaos to the
harmony which You gravitate towards and which for thousands of
years, ever since man started to think, he has futilely sought
admission into You, he persistently seeks the right to legal
citizenship in the human philosophical structure of this ever
strange and mysterious world of ours, I'm healthy and probably
aware of what I'm saying to You here, the Bogomils also knew about
what I've told You, and because of this they probably had to pay a
heavy price before those ostensible defenders of Your name, but I
fear when by chance You would judge whether to open your gates to
that which man inherently carries within himself and which those
ostensible defenders of Your name refer to as Satan, I'm sure that
You would admit its legality, knowing who is in fact that creature
which You one day (as long as it isn't a day in August)
forevermore expelled from the place where he otherwise belonged,
for which he very boldly and mysteriously accused the one which
originates from his rib, wanting all the same to justify that from
which at least this civilisation will never free itself and which,
I believe, will eventually destroy it, aside with what Faulkner
and society say, after the sort of history which this literate man
had, all that remains for him as an honourable choice are shame
and silence, endless silence and huge shame, and a tear, if he is
in any state to squeeze it out of his eye after all that his
ancestors did, and by gosh he himself too, and that which he still
does, God, how can I call upon You and know that I'm not just
speaking in vain, you shoved into us, fragile and fearful,
trembling and alone, a little gift for us to breathe in this
miraculous air, for us to live on this planet like convicts
sentenced to death in solitary confinement, where there the only
light that shines is from a single bulb, whenever we're unhappy,
all of our thoughts turn to You, because of fear we feel that we
need to hope, so we mutely beseech and pray for You to forgive us
and show mercy upon us, but already in our very next move we're
unable to tell whether or not we've betrayed You, because maybe
we're just Your illusion just as parents reassure themselves with
lies about their children, towards which they are sometimes blind,
sometimes rough, sometimes gentle, sometimes cruel - LETS SPEAK
LIKE GROWN UPS, LIKE TWO HONEST FRIENDS, MAN TO MAN, WOMAN TO
WOMAN – and most often a tyrant, just as the child is to them,
because they don't know that those are two bodies, and a body is
usually in disagreement with its soul, offer me your hand, my God,
what is that pointless hope that you can get up off the floor and
disturbed by his silence you can listen in to the barking of dogs
from somewhere, snoring from the neighbouring room or even the
pattering of rain against the window pane, it's so sad in this
world, and yet something still stops you from killing yourself, my
tongue's getting tangled and I want to tell you this through
closed eyes, even though darkness has ruled this place for a long
time now, why is my heart excitedly beating because of this, isn't
that a sign that I still love this life – I CAN FEEL THAT I LOVE
YOU – did I frighten myself so much that I started to tremble
because of it, smell my soul, even if my eyelids are closed, I can
feel how my eyes are beginning to drizzle, did You respond or do
you just appear to me out of my fear so as to revive my desire to
fight, oh, You, oh, All mighty, Allahu Akbar! is that really You?
I can feel how you're sliding your fingers into your pants and
down there it's all wet because of that, oh, God, what was it that
you said to Judas, whatever you do, do it quickly, the only thing
which still interests me right now is whether it's day or night
outside?...
10.
4 rolls
100g beef sausages 400 L
1 fruit juice
“Pinocchio” picture book
and a postcard of Milan 370 L
770 L
-and the words poured out of his lips;
-the judge whom they quickly woke up;
-I'm unhappy because, first and foremost, I've always been lonely;
-banished from the family;
-I fled naked, having left the sheet in which I'd been swaddled in
my parents' hands;
-if I could then I'd like to be silent and cry, as long and as
painfully as possible;
-I'd like to be my peace's best friend, but life has made fun of
me. Particularly well;
-why did I enjoy sniffing ink? Was that, even back then, a clear
sign that I'm a lesbian?
-Sometimes a lady's skin has the smell of ink;
-Father was short. He didn't like crowds because he would get
easily lost in them;
-Mum was unnaturally tall. She was absolutely crazy for sex.
Father drove her particularly mad; him being like a dwarf ignited
the most morbid of fantasies in her, which I was myself witness
to. The pair of them were like two dogs that nobody paid any
attention to. Once I was just a couple of feet away from them. So
as to get into my mother, just like Zacchaeus who climbed up a
wild fig tree so as to be able to see Jesus, he climbed onto her.
After that, she'd always sit down the floor for him, on her knees,
both of them would watch the television screen with idiotic grins
on their faces, they'd already lay themselves out some bread
sticks in a glass, he'd shove them into her mouth, she into his,
each time saying to one another “And you? I've just had two of
them, now you take two in a row.”
And just two hours ago, before coitus interruptus, I listened to
that pygmy from the other room as he beat my mother in the locked
bedroom.
“And you? I've just had two of them, now you take two in a row.”
-Lunch was better on that day. I could tell this from the thick,
red wine mixed with a bit of water;
-why did my father learn German when, from his very nature, he
hated Germans;
-German women, with whom he didn't have to sprechen German, were
an entirely different case. As far as these things are concerned,
the human race manages to communicate in the same way as animals
do;
-It was possible no note changes to his accent and the tone of his
voice in the ways in which he spoke to my mother and to other
women. He had a softer tone with others, whilst with my mother
he'd give a sign with his shoulders that her conversation
irritated him, and in a dangerous way;
-I'd only ever once felt love for him: I came across him on the
river bank, he was silent, drawing some sort of symbols into the
sand which I couldn't understand. I just wanted to ask him what
these drawings meant. But at the very same moment a large wave
flooded onto the scribbles in the sand, leaving the area levelled;
-That's none of your business? – he said in words which were full
of chastity and sureness. He then fell silent and peacefully
watched somewhere beyond me, somewhere into the horizon. I didn't
want to try any further;
-I once dreamed of myself wrapped up in a sheet, in a casket above
which was the lid which had already been prepared and upon which
was written in gold letters: A CASKET FOR A PERSON WHO NEVER EVEN
LIVED. Some woman, and this was once again me, passed by the
deceased and, with two fingers, opened up my eyelids: “Yes, that's
her, I recognise her because she has such colourful eyes. One of
her eyes was always orange, the other was always purple”. There
was a knife wound on the neck, it was fresh, but no blood was
flowing from it. The face was beautiful and divine, just like I'd
want to have after my actual death. Who knows, maybe I haven't
been her for a long time? Maybe I died a long time ago, and right
now that dead girl is dreaming of this wretch here in the lift? –
ALLOW THE DEAD TO BURY THE LIVING!
-One day, a man was galloping along the road which leads to Capernaum and jumped of
his horse in front of Jesus. He was an officer in the Antipine army, without doubt a pagan,
but he'd gained favour with the Jews because he'd built them a synagogue. The
officer had come to ask Jesus to come to the town and heal his son;
-My father was a man of pleasure, without significance, and as
such he had fallen in love with his brother's wife. That's how my
aunt became my stepmother:
-When dealing with a woman, a man should have a peacock's
arrogance, a goat's lust and a lion's wrath, whilst a woman will
only attract his attention through the cunningness of a fox and
the innocence of a dove;
-Am I beginning to rant and rave? It's about time I lit another
match;
-In complete purity and asceticism, with long hair tied back in a
ponytail, I would love to lie on a bare rock and fall asleep
forever;
-And the birthday is over...
11.
But when I wanted to pull one of the lift's doors wide open, I
could feel that it was caught on something, I presumed it was a
shard of glass, which didn't seem in the least bit odd to me
because I knew that they were scattered all over the floor, and so
I put my outspread palm down there, but very carefully so that in
the darkness none of those glass thorns would end up in my skin,
however unpleasant it then felt, how terribly tormented would I be
then, I can only imagine, that would be the last thing I’d need,
but I stretched out a finger so that I could unblock whatever was
preventing the partially ajar door from opening with the tip of my
finger, and then, I could feel something which I wouldn't even
have expected in a dream, under my skin I felt something scaly and
smooth, which couldn’t have been glass, on the contrary, it was
hard and – as I already mentioned – scaly and smooth, whilst with
the very ends of my fingers, from there, I got hold of something
soft, like when you've got some sun cream on your finger; I
carefully brought my finger up towards my nose, hoping – I believe
– that it wasn't in fact my own excrement, from over in the
corner, I sniffed to see what it smelt of – scent or in fact
stench – and when even then I couldn't figure out what it could
be, still not daring to bring it any closer to my tongue to see
whether what was on the end of my finger could be good to eat, in
that moment I shifted the weight of my body from one bum-cheek
onto the other so as to free up my other hand in order to have a
feel of what was under the partly ajar door, still holding on a
finger of my left hand what I'd got a hold of a little earlier,
but then I once again felt that same smooth scaliness, which gave
a little under the pressure of my finger, it's got to be some sort
of insect, I thought with a certain fear that, God forbid, it
might bite me, because at this point I was not in the least bit in
the mood for that, or, if there were more of them – maybe dozens,
maybe hundreds – for them to climb all up and down me in search of
something to eat, on me or of me, because I began to stink of
sweat, it seemed to me, as if I was falling apart like a corpse,
already smelly enough that I could do a good job of imitating a
carcass, which would be delicious for their little mouths, which
would patiently munch their way through their prey in the
darkness, decompose me and make a tasty meal out of me, they'll
torture me with their sharp little claws and proboscides all over
me, I'll feel their three or four pairs of legs, they'll lay their
eggs in me after which millions of other tiny insects will hatch
out of me and settle in me, thinking that I'm their mother, after
which billions and billions of other little insects will come,
they'll be my grandchildren, I'll be their granny, then great-
granny, and then great-great-granny and all of them will crawl all
over me, just as we crawl around the memories of our grandmothers
and great-grandmothers and don't let them rest in peace in their
graves, they'll all crawl all over me until they've entirely
covered me and chewed me up, leaving me my smooth, white skeleton
as a heritage, that is unless they don't eat that up too so that
not a single trace would be left of me, that's what I mulled over
in that terrible fear and I tried hard to think what it might be,
and then I suddenly pulled myself together, I realised that I'm
drenched in sweat and shaking all over, fearing that these
intruders could either bite me or eat me, I worked out that my
only chance of saving myself was to take one of the few remaining
matches from the box, I frantically stuck two fingers into it,
struggling for some time to get out just one, strangely enough I
finally did it, I place the match's little head against the
striking board, all I'd need now is for the phosphorus to crumble
off, I thought, the strike doesn't need to be long, just short and
decisive so that the phosphorus ignites from the accumulated
friction, I scratched the head against the rough surface having
turned my line of sight away from it so that the sudden light
wouldn't blind me, in the other hand which wasn't holding the
matchbox, with the end of my fingers I was still holding that soft
thing which I'd dipped into a little earlier, and then, once my
eyes had somewhat got used to the light of the burning match, I
saw it – alas! – beneath that partially ajar door, between the
shards of glass, I could see a crushed cockroach, a black roach,
whose upper shell had cracked open in the middle when I'd pressed
against its back with the door, whilst what I'd dipped the end of
my finger into was its white innards which had been somewhat
smeared across the floor around it, I look at the entrails on my
fingertips which I was still holding along with the matchbox, the
finger was pointed upwards as though I was threatening someone, so
it was that then, I finally conclude, there aren't a million
cockroaches or a billion of them, apart from this one, I could
also see one other which was frantically scrabbling around in
circles in the corner because the door had lopped of his left row
of legs, meaning that he could no longer flee either backwards or
forwards but just kept going round and round in circles, and so,
before the match burned out, I pressed down on it with a larger
piece of glass so that before I once again end up in darkness I
could remember where I'd left it, with a chill I thus ascertain
that I'm already preparing for something which even a complete
headcase wouldn't think of, am I considering trying to eat their
white innards, I'm checking with myself, but I'm immediately
answering as though I'm assuring myself, don't do it if you're
such a lady and you get queasy, don't, so I didn't manage to
convince myself, but I knew that I thought like this when I didn't
rub it off my finger onto the wall, as I would usually have done
had the circumstances been different, I had to think fast, there
was no time for philosophy here, I said, I had to think about this
quickly, of course, as best as I could and would, dear God
almighty, what's good and what isn't, all I know is that it's
bloody good to stay alive, especially when you find yourself in
such a lousy situation like I am now, is it worth living, the
absurd, the absurd of the absurd – YOUR VOICE'S VOICE VOICES A
VOICEFUL VOICE – and other bollocks like that, what's good and
what's not, I know that it's worth staying alive, to get out of
here even if then the very next second I’d throw myself off
somewhere very high up like my great-great-great-great-great
granddad, I remember that I read somewhere – in a book or a
newspaper or wherever? – I'm not sure where, how in that
disgusting and rank insect-beetle, which spends its whole life in
the darkness of sewage pipes, there are nutritious ingredients,
proteins in its innards, and I feverishly begin to think about
what to do, cast away my gastronomic prejudices and chauvinism or
just lick what's still left off my fingertips? – I crumbled the
burned-out match between my fingers – I'm thinking about how to
use it because I'm at the end of my tether, something has to be
done before I completely begin to hallucinate, which would send me
totally bonkers and in the end I'd go mad out of hunger and
exhaustion, so I worked it out like this: it'd be an utterly
skanky thing to do, for me to eat a cockroach's guts, true, she
convinced herself, attempting to swallow down her saliva although
her mouth was already like a dried up Artesian aquifer, which made
her throat hurt, she believed that dying, death – as they say –
might have already begun, the disgusting insect, my dear, it's
absolutely stuffed with nutritious proteins, she remembered, in
fact, how a while back she'd received an excellent grade from
proteins in home economics class, but at the same moment she
recalled something, what if it won’t be enough for me to survive,
I'll have to use it as bait to lure out all the other cockroaches
which must be everywhere around here, they just sent this one and
that one on a reconnaissance patrol to see whether I was still
alive, I'll hold one dead cockroach as bait, then I'll kill the
new intruder, but I'll empty out all the innards from that old one
and so on, I'll clean out all of their bellies and line them up
along the wall, I'll eat all of them and throw up but I'll put my
hand across my mouth and hold it all in and send it back down into
my guts, this is neither the time nor the place for morals, the
real battle against death is still to come, of course it was
necessary to lick this off the tips of my fingers, I'm overcome by
fever, I'm completely broken, I can't move anywhere from here,
nobody will bring me any water, I'm so parched, my tongue and
throat are so sore, it's as though I'm falling to pieces, I can't
eat anything, I can't drink anything, my lips are all crusty, I'm
shaking even more now from this fever, she stuck the whole finger
in her mouth and started to suck it just like how an infant sucks
at its mother's nipple, why did Madam Anera always act weirdly
towards me, when they were about to leave in the lobby she didn't
even hold out her hand to say goodbye? Did she already know
something at that point or was the gesture entirely coincidental?
12.
In order to protect myself from sick fantasies, I tried to
pick myself up, but I realised that I was already so weak and
powerless that, in a state of semi consciousness, I felt as though
I'd fall straight back down onto the floor as soon as I'd attempt
it, which I really doubt I will, the leg which I'd stretched out
beneath me was already cramping, I turned towards the wall so as
to take the weight off it and I could clearly feel how the cramp
was gradually moving into the other leg, the floor is cold and
prickly from the glass, I'm losing my sense of balance, I'd like
to turn to face the opposite wall, my birthday had already passed
by, gone in the blink of an eye, you're chasing after birthdays,
chasing after years, what do they even mean in this immeasurable
time, just like the fluttering wings of a fairy cavalier, it'll be
that Charles III searched for me – SEARCHED, SOUGHT– oh, God,
don't bring my misery to temptation – he realised because of those
outdoor lights, oh, what outdoor lights, please, that nerd turned
them all off before I managed to warn him, it's complete darkness
out there and Charles III probably thought, given that I'd got
angry with him the last time we'd seen each other, that I'd also
gone to America with the Lord and Lady, and my Charles III was
spot on, this is the real America here, my dear Charles III, the
true promised land of America, I'll tell you all about how
fantastic it was in this dreamland, Charles III, but how could I,
there's no words to describe it, everything I tell you – ANYTHING
YOU DO SAY MAY BE GIVEN IN EVIDENCE AGAINST YOU IN A COURT OF LAW
– will just be an attempt to describe the indescribable, Charless-
ss the Thirdd-dd, why did our silly little tiffs and your pride
permit you from coming here and ringing your little Ida's door,
foolish and beautiful Ida, and all those lovely things, and to say
to her, listen love, don't you see that I love you and stop
fucking around and it would end there for your stupid Ida... I
can't use my hands, they've gone completely numb, I’d like to
sleep, I want to fall asleep, I'm constantly struggling against
sleep, I should gobble up another cockroach before that and then
peacefully drift off into hibernation, my mouth's dry, how much
longer is there until Sir and Madam's return, I expect that the
letter-box in front of the house has filled up with postcards and
none of those idiots find it at all odd that it doesn't get
emptied and they don't get taken away, my tongue's thickened
inside my mouth, I don't know what to do with it, if it were
possible then I'd roll it up and stick it behind my teeth, if only
I could moisten it with something, sometimes I become
disillusioned from all of this and then disgust myself, but I find
solace in the fact that everybody would be like that in my
position, I say to myself, don't allow it, Ida... don't allow
what, Ida?, I mean, I'm trying to remember what I was thinking but
nothing else remains other than for me to kid myself and roll my
eyes in this darkness without even a single thought and without
any sort of possibility that I'll remember what I was thinking
about before that, dear God, dear God, all that's left for me to
do is cry, it seems as though those are the only two words I still
know, dear God, dear God, with every hour of starvation millions
and millions of my organism's cells are dying, it's as though I'm
losing all of my will, don't give in Ida, now at the end, just
hold on a bit longer, wake up, there's only a little bit longer,
you're still thinking, you're still able to think, you still know
that you're thinking, you're still able to command yourself, you
can see that you're still alive, I want to sleep, don't sleep,
wake up, all I want is to fall asleep and never wake up again,
wake up, don't fall asleep, just fight a bit more, I can hear
someone calling me, like they're summoning me to fight, but I
don't want to do anything anymore, let alone fight, I fought for
as long as I could, cells won't die exponentially, I want to close
my eyes and fall asleep forever, there are fifteen cockroaches in
my gut, they wanted to gobble me up but it was me who gobbled them
up, ha, ha, what a wonderful twist, the sixteenth is bait for the
seventeenth, would my bones hold at the joints when I'm a skeleton
or would they come apart and make a pile of bones – this pile
would be Madam Bum-Bum – the lift goes down to the ground floor,
Signor Katil opens the doors and my skeleton is there in the
corner, or rather, a bunch a bones gets up in a panic, where've
you two been? and don't go thinking that you'll escape justice for
this, we stayed here so that we'd be able to tell the world what
you did to Madam Bum-Bum, why am I now getting the feeling that
I'm not going to survive when, until now, I'd constantly believed
in myself, why would I sleep when there's only a little time left,
just a few more days, I'm sure of it, she tried to encourage
herself, but this belief would subsequently drain out of her
immediately and she'd just begin to blabber, I need to write a
letter to Charles III and tell him that I'll come in that dark
night, I didn't behave very well, everything which I've done, all
of it's my fault, the happiest I ever felt in life was when I'd
been stood in front of a field of red tulips, I can just imagine
what a beautiful country Holland is for this very reason, the
Dutch have got it easy, their fields are covered in red tulips,
just a few more days, I'll count if needs be, one by one, one,
two, three, four, five..., I'll divide days into hours, hours into
minutes, minutes into miles, and years into grams... there aren't
any minutes in one gram, I'll divide all of it into little parts
so that time flies so much that I can't even follow it, I'll see
how the Lord and Lady are rushing towards the villa, and I'll
still keep saying to myself, hang on in there Madam Bum-Bum, hang
in there just a bit longer Bum-Bum, if you die then nobody will
remember the Bogomils, everything that you've gone through until
now, an animal couldn't do it, from out of her came something
along the lines of oo-www! – but not so long that she could
discern the sounds, it was something like a mumbling – mm-uu –
followed by a short squeal, and then silence, she strained her
ears, with the joy of having realised how in that moment it was
becoming sharper: her ear had never caught hold of so many sounds
as now, they were causing sheer excitement in her nerves, but with
a part of her consciousness she also realised that in her solitude
and silence those sounds and noises mean that time was still
elapsing for her and that she still existed and, as soon as she
managed to establish this, it meant that she was still alive and
ready to fight as much as possible all until she is startled from
her raptures and sweet intoxication by some latent puppy –
caution, and before she orders herself, she prefers not to think
of anything, she's counting buffalos in a herd instead, or Merino
sheep in a flock of a million, come on, old Bum-Bum, be clever and
count to one million, and then again to one million, count to one
hundred million and then you'll be sure that in one hundred
million seconds you're getting closer to the Lord and Lady's
arrival, just count – PACK UP YOUR TROUBLES IN YOUR OLD KIT-BAG
AND SMILE, SMILE, SMILE – my one and only Bum-Bum, she pondered to
herself, thinking and preparing to speak out – PETER PIPER PICKED
A PECK OF PICKLED PEPERS – that which she was once able to say the
in her class or - SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS – a twisted
smile formed at the edges of her lips, but at the same moment she
felt a sting of pain, her lips returned to their previous
positions, you only realise it when it's all been lost, she
concludes, nobody knows anything until they've lost it all, when
they've got to start from the beginning for the second time – ONCE
MORE INTO THE BREACH – as fast as you can – rolling in money –
EENIE MEENIE MI-NY MOE, CAT-CH A TI-GER BY IT-S TOE – love and
friendship deserve each other, solitude as well, it's just that
it's always passive, it needs to be understood: when a person's
only outlet is cockroach guts, despair passes it's claws across
that person's soul and the day comes when the soul needs to meet
itself, it has to look at itself and then realise that it has met
its unfamiliar self, everything then becomes fragile, nothing is
protecting it any longer, her heart is entirely spent... I'm sure
I weigh less that five stone now, my liver's killing me, damn this
rotten and heartless world, I'd sell my soul for a bowl of soup,
for a slice of watermelon, only my head's still a little clearer,
my tongue is salty and thickened... this might be the worst death
of all possible deaths... but, as always, the truth will never be
known...
Sead Mahmutefendić
prosecutor regarding the
case of the
attempted murder of Miss Tevhida
Agalar.
The
procedure was initiated upon the
demand of Mr
Mauro Kirk, Miss Tevhida
Agalar's lawyer, against
Antonio Sforza, a
dealer in ornate furniture from
Milan.
Suspected of attempted murder with
the intent to take the life of Miss
Tevhida Agalar, aged 23, born in
Sarajevo, Yugoslavia, the aforementioned
individual intentionally left her to
130
Suze Dauta Arfadžana spend thirty-one days trapped inside a
lift without either recourse to either
food or water, having allegedly
unscrewed the fuse from the main control
board, under the pretence of protecting
his three-storey villa from the threat
of fires before leaving with his wife,
Mrs Anera Sforza, to visit friends in
the United States of America for one
month.
Mr Antonio Sforza is blamed for, and
likewise accused of, the incriminating
act on the basis of the irrefutable
evidence that he did this with the clear
intent of taking Miss Tevhida Agalar's
life. At the behest of this court, the
accused is to be detained and held in
custody. The court council has
questioned and interrogated Mr Antonio131
Sead Mahmutefendić
Sforza on three occasions, as well as
his wife Mrs Anera Sforza, née Contini.
Both answered questions under oath,
having beforehand placed their palms
upon a copy of God's sacred gospel which
the judge held in his hands. Under oath,
the judge asked Mr Sforza whether in any
way he felt any sense of guilt for that
which has been alleged in Miss Tevhida
Agalar's prosecution, the accused giving
the categorical answer that not only did
he not feel guilty for that which Miss
Agalar was charging him with but rather
that he felt insulted because of the
insinuations and direct allusions made
in this accusation. However, besides all
else, his aristocratic roots do not
permit revenge and he is ready to
132
Suze Dauta Arfadžana forgive and forget, viewing this
unintentional and unfortunate
misunderstanding as pure negligence from
both parties, as much from himself as
also from Miss Agalar.
The accused Mr Sforza was then asked
whether he was able to assume what would
happen after he had unscrewed the fuse
from the control board, to which he
stated that he could only presume that
it would cut off the supply of
electricity to the villa from the main
power supply.
(Laughter in the room. The judge
threatens to empty the room if the
public does not calm down)
In the same way, Miss Tevhida Agalar
was also asked whether, after he had
turned the main fuse, the accused Mr133
Sead Mahmutefendić
Antonio Sforza departed the villa by
running or in any other visible way
hurrying, briskly getting into his car
in order for the two of them to get to
Milan's airport, or whether he had,
perhaps, stayed some time to observe her
reaction (shouting, cries, yelling) in
the lift, the sole witness Mrs Anera
Sforza, née Contini, energetically
answers that there was absolutely no
hurry nor was there any sort of
chivvying along on the part of her
husband, Mr Antonio Sforza, but rather
the opposite in fact, he had gone around
the whole villa once again to check
whether all the windows were closed.
When also asked whether he had ever
been in hostile relations with Miss
134
Suze Dauta Arfadžana Tevhida Agalar, he denied this to have
been the case.
When the hearing's chief judge asks
the accused Mr Antonio Sforza whether he
wishes to lodge with the court any type
of objection to the way in which his
interrogation is being carried out or,
perhaps, offer any statement, he answers
that he is honestly sorry for Miss Ida
(this is how he said it, without giving
her surname), that he is sorry for the
trauma which she has suffered whilst in
the lift, but that he really is innocent
in all of this.
“This is something similar to when a
careless pedestrian runs out in front of
a car and because of this the driver is
freed since he was neither guilty nor
responsible for either injury or death.135
Sead Mahmutefendić
I can't describe it to you any
differently. I think I've been
completely clear about it.”
The court then summoned the
plaintiff, Miss Agalar, as a witness,
whose questioning, immediately from the
very outset, took a very strange
direction. An interpreter was not
necessary.
Judge: What is your name?
Plaintiff: Džanija Vilogorska.
Judge (furiously hitting the desk
with his wooden gavel): I will not allow
you to make a farce out of this court
and thrust false information upon it. In
my records it states that your name is
Miss Tevhida Agalar.
136
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Plaintiff: Exactly, that's what I
was once called but, after this cruel
event I'm called Džanija Vilogorska.
She stands at the rostrum opposite
the judge’s desk. A torrent of words
came bursting out of her. Her upper lip
was speaking in Christian, her lower lip
in Muslim. Whilst her lips were moving
up and down, they became all tangled up
like two powerless worms.
Firstly, she set out how she was
sure that Mr Antonio Sforza had intended
to kill her by turning off the
electricity, having unscrewed the main
fuse from the control panel at the
moment when he must have seen that the
red light had come on, which was next to
the lift's door on each floor and meant
that the lift was moving, in this case137
Sead Mahmutefendić
with her in it towards the ground floor,
and since she was the only person in the
villa and the lift can't go anywhere if
it's empty, he had known full well who
was inside it. She'd remembered an
occasion when she'd been putting away
the bedding, whilst leaning towards the
bed and singing one of her Bosnian
sevdalinka songs, all of a sudden she'd
felt someone's hand in her pants. When
she turned around she saw the present,
Mr Antonio Sforza, stood there with some
sort of frozen grin on his face. I
calmly straightened myself up and looked
at him coldly. Our faces were just
inches away. This confused him.
“What's the meaning of this?” I
asked the gentleman.
138
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
He'd gone pale and was completely
confused by how the situation was
panning out. I don't think he'd expected
this sort of reaction from a maid, or
colf as you say in your language.
“You can probably guess... what
could a man be looking for in such a
beautiful woman?” Mr Antonio Sforza
answered me.
Some devil told me that I'm not
allowed to let a situation slip which
was happening the way I wanted it to and
not against me.
I turned my head in the direction of
the closed door behind where I knew Mrs
Anera Sforza, née Contini, was in her
wheelchair which she had now used for
several years.
139
Sead Mahmutefendić
The master turned his view in the
same direction as mine. Both of us
looked at the closed rectangle of the
door.
“If we go to that door the way we
are now and you open it then I promise
to be yours”, I suggested to him.
As if his hand was in a basket full
of cobras, mambas and rattlesnakes, he
yanked it out of my pants and then told
me something for which I now accuse him
of having had the intent to kill me
since he was afraid that I'd blurt it
out somewhere.
“Listen, you!” (he addressed me
abruptly as “you” even though previously
until then he'd always been polite to
me) “I'm only with that old battle-axe
140
Suze Dauta Arfadžana who's behind that door in a wheelchair
solely for two reasons: her foreign
currency accounts, which don’t contain
all that much on them, and because of
the history of her illness. If you ruin
that for me by saying I rammed my hand
in your pants and wanted to shag you...
five million people live in Milan...
only the rats' guts in the city's sewers
will know where one stupid Bosnian-
Muslim bitch ended up...”
Therefore, from that little bulb, he
had to have known that she was in the
lift and that this was the perfect
opportunity to commit the perfect crime.
The plaintiff then said something
which sounded like a profanity to those
who were present, and when the chief
judge insisted that she explain to the141
Sead Mahmutefendić
court what her mumbling meant, she
announced that she'd uttered a curse in
the language of her ancestors; she had
said it in a way that her upper lip had
been raised, while at the same time her
lower one was used for a prayer which
she whispered in some sort of strange
dialect. From the way in which her mouth
opened, her tongue would occasionally
poke out, split at the tip. Her eyes –
one orange, the other purple – burned
glassily at the jury and looked smaller
than they in fact were.
One of her hands usually seemed to
be doing the opposite of whatever the
other was doing. If the right one was
stretched out then the left one was
contracted, or, if one of them was
142
Suze Dauta Arfadžana pointing towards something, the other
would usually deflect such attention
away from it.
Certain sections of her testimony
lead the chief judge to suspect that she
was not the same as her cynical
reactions. Her language was as cold as
an executioner's axe, as sharp and as
wicked as the whistle a scythe makes
when it is swung and then falls back.
Her fists and her fat fingers didn't
look as though they belonged to a girl
but rather to a grown up man.
And when, therein, the chief judge
asked her for her nationality, she
stressed that she was a Bogomil or a
Christian and that for this reason she
was called Džanija Vilogorka. The chief
judge then asked her in all seriousness143
Sead Mahmutefendić
what the reason was for all of her
ancestors having vanished from the face
of the earth, wherein she came out from
behind the rostrum and approached the
judge's table, watching him from the
lower angle, standing on her tip-toes so
that he might see her better, and she
flung forward that split tongue towards
him: “If a particular idea is too good
to be able to survive then that is a
flaw in the idea itself. It is not
because people don't need it, but rather
because it would be even worse for
humanity.”
Rijeka, March 1987.
144
Sead Mahmutefendić
And therefore I forbid my tears, but yet
It is our trick,
nature her custom holas
Let sheme say what it
will; when there are gone
The woman will be out
W. Skakespeare: Hamlet
146
Sead Mahmutefendić
1.
Više njih u poroti se složilo da
moja priča zapravo ništa ne znači, te
vjerovatno ima tome neki razlog što
izbjegavam odgovore na njihova izravna
pitanja, te da je netko od tih sijedih
glava upitao zašto to činim, zasigurno
ga ne bih mogao zadovoljiti bilo kakvim
objašnjenjem, jer ni sam nisam znao zbog
čega to činim niti su mi bili jasni
razlozi što od procesa činim neku vrstu
cirkusa, što me je posebno veselilo,
osobito onda kad bi predsjednik suda
lupao svojim drvenim čekićem da bi
umirio uskomešane duhove u sudnici
upozoravajući ih na pristojnost i
148
Suze Dauta Arfadžana eventualne posljedice zbog ometanja
normalnog rada suda, što je prisutne,
isti tren, natjeralo da se smire i
umire, premda se u zraku osjećalo da je
tužba za sad nemoćna prema optuženom te
da nije u stanju dokučiti i odgonetnuti
one stvari u koje se sama uplela, pa je
to optuženom i odbrani bila neka vrsta
alibija i satisfakcije da se čvor ne da
otpetljavati ni razmrsiti, što sam
smatrao u svemu ovom najmanje važnim,
mada nisam držao nevažnim razloge koji
su doveli do svega ovog, pa sam stoga
ubrzo shvatio da moram biti iskren iznad
svega - bar koliko to od mene zavisi -
kako bi stvari mogle nastaviti ići isto
onako sporim i laganim tokom kao i
dotad, a koje sam nastojao da nešto od
toga zaustavim, ometem ili skrenem tok149
Sead Mahmutefendić
optužbe, iako to sad ne bi išlo u moju
korist; - naprotiv - ubrzo sam shvatio
da se potvrđuje ono što je protiv mene i
što je u dosluhu s mojim strahom i
bojazni, a što je, na svu sreću, meni
već odavno postalo jasno, te sam
pokušavao hinjiti kako mi je sve
svejedno, pa više nisam imao namjeru da
se pravdam pred svima kao ni pred samim
sobom jer mi je sad najmanje stalo kakav
ću biti u svojim očima, a zapravo sam
znao tko sam i zbog toga mi nije stalo
kako će ova tu gospoda odmršavati konce
mog proteklog života, što je opet
zavisilo hoću li im ja dati pravo da uđu
u njega a nisam dao da im to priuštim
zbog činjenice da im time samo dajem
prednost da ćopkaju i otkrivaju moje
150
Suze Dauta Arfadžana rane, kojih bješe i previše da bih mogao
izdržati sva ta bolna mjesta, pa je to
bio glavni razlog što sam se odlučio na
šutnju, koja nije bila rezultat moje
odluke da nekog ignoriram, već, eto,
jednostavno što nisam nalazio pametnim
da odgovaram na njihova ravnodušna,
rutinska i indiskretna pitanja, kojih je
bilo i previše, a od kojih mi se većina
činila da ne mogu ubrzati tok istrage,
već, naprotiv, mogu je samo još više
ukopati u jednom mjestu te na taj način
još više pojačati u meni osjećaj da svi
ovdje činimo nešto što apsolutno nema
nikakvog smisla po moju sudbinu, jer sam
već tad bio pomiren s najtežom kaznom, i
to me nije ozlojađivalo utoliko što sam
već bio spreman dopustiti da mi već tad
netko od najbješnjih u sali stavi omču151
Sead Mahmutefendić
oko vrata ili, jednostavno, da priđem
nekom od milicionara, mojih čuvara,
izvadi mu pištolj iz futrole i saspe mi
cijeli šaržer u glavu; - ništa osobito
ne bih imao protiv toga, dapače, ja sam
svojom šutnjom još više ubrzavao i
pospješavao tu stvar, što sam jasno
vidio iz očiju njih nekolicine koji su
se našli u mom vidokrugu, pa sam, isti
tren, nasumice, zaključio da su svi ti
ljudi oko mene onakvi kakvi se meni čine
i kao takvi oni će biti pobjednici nada
mnom, mada se ni u čemu bitno ne
razlikujemo jedni od drugih i mada
priznajem da često pomislim kako je vrlo
moguće da mi netko od ovih kretena i
pozavidi što sam učinio, jer za
ubojstvo, osobito onakvo kao što je moje
152
Suze Dauta Arfadžana - masovno - stvarno treba imati petlju,
odvažnost, hrabrost i drskost da se
savlada normalan čovjekov strah što će
mu biti sa životom, što me je sad pred
njima činilo gordim dotle da sam ih
prezirao što oni nisu niti će biti u
stanju to ikad učiniti, pa prema tome i
nemaju pravo ni suditi za tu moju
ljudsku odluku zbog koje sjedim na
optuženičkoj klupi - sam, čas ponosan,
čas prestrašen, jer bi me najednom
zaskočila, nakon ugodnih osjećaja i
zadovoljstva, prava mora što je svakako
zavisilo i od toga koliko sam u tom
trenutku imao samopouzdanja u sebe, jer
bi se dešavalo da me najednom neka
ledena ruka ščepa za srce, a nečije
avetinjsko lice dalo bi mi naslutiti da
ću ja stvarno uskoro završiti pred153
Sead Mahmutefendić
streljačkim strojem zbog odluke ovih
ljudi, kojih meni često dođe žao te bih
im se od srca slatko smijao u lice, ali
sam, istovremeno, bio svjestan da moj
bijedni i ništavni život do kojeg mi,
tako mi se ponekad učini, ne držim ni
kao crno ispod nokta, zavisi od
razumijevanja i samilosti od sijedih
glava, mada ni u tim trenucima nisam
mogao dokučiti prave razloge koji su me
stalno držali u napetoj neizvjesnoj nadi
da spojim iskrzane i isprekidane končiće
sa svojim životom, iako sam već odavno
postao svjestan da bi ih valjalo jednom
zauvijek presjeći, smotati u klupko,
baciti u smeće i konačno sklopiti oči,
mada sam bio najmanje pozvan da govorim
o tome, jer sam već odavno to pravo
154
Suze Dauta Arfadžana uskratio sebi smatrajući da time
postižem mudrost, a danas me više
nikakva želja nikud ne mami i ne vodi
osim one da naskroz ne smijem zanemariti
tijelo i ovo malo nesretne duše u njemu
što ga muči i usmjerava ovakvog patnog,
još više unakazuje; to me dovelo dotle
da ustanovim kako više nema ni svrhe ni
smisla razmijeniti ljudski pogled s
drugim čovjekom, jer svuda uokolo vidim
samo da je moj postupak učinio korov i
pustinju, bez obzira što nisam tako
mislio, - i ja se pitam: što ću ja još
ovdje, jer nikom nisam potreban niti sam
kome poželjan, te - na koncu - nisam li
ja zlorabio božje povjerenje jer sam
postao čovjek negativnih vibracija oko
sebe, pa zar sam morao sticati mučno i
bolno iskustvo da to zaključim? te jesam155
Sead Mahmutefendić
li morao obići cijeli krug i na kružnici
opet naći sebe ovakvog nesavršenog i
lomnog kakav sam i bio kad sam tek
izišao iz majčine utrobe i nije li to
moglo sve biti drukčije? te da počnem
ispočetka kad je kasno sinoć moj
odvjetnik navratio do mene u ćeliju da
mi postavi nekoliko rutinskih pitanja i
pribilježi u notes moje kratke,
rezignirane i smušene odgovore, a odmah
potom, samo što sam pomislio da je sve
gotovo i da će se on za koji trenutak
ustati sa stolice i otići iz ćelije, on
me najednom upita da li bi mi smio nešto
prijateljski predložiti, mada je i sam
znao da nisam mogao biti raspoložen da
ugađam nečijim prijedlozima, jer je to
uostalom bilo suvišno za istragu te,
156
Suze Dauta Arfadžana iako sam to držao izlišnim, klimnem ja
glavom prema njemu na što se on
častohlepno nastavi da je naša žalba
odbijena, da mu je iskreno žao zbog toga
- više zbog mene nego zbog sebe i svog
ugleda - da mu je odista žao, ali da
neće tek tako dići ruke od te stvari i
da će se boriti dok god postoji i zadnja
mogućnost da se preinači prvostupanjska
odluka suda, jer i on, i pored svega, ne
može to dopustiti te da sam ja takav,
takav i takav, na što se ja dignem iz
kreveta te nervozno i odlučno izjavim da
me više ne maltretira tom mediteranskom
brbljačinom i pederskom patetikom,
velikim riječima koje, u stvari, ništa
ne znače, i on se tad diže užagrenih
očiju uprtih u mene: pa, Daute, sad mi
se čini da vrijedi pokušati, ne smijemo157
Sead Mahmutefendić
se tek tako predati sudbini i da u
sudskoj praksi ovakve riječi nisu baš
beznačajne; - i baš te takve pederske
riječi treba baciti na papir u žalbi i
da preko njih probudimo emocije porote i
prisutnih, što će biti prvim korakom da
promućkamo i zaposlimo njihove tikve
kako bi ih natjerali da odgonetaju
uzroke našeg čina (da, baš je tako rekao
u množini, kao da je i on samnom učinio
taj zločin), i... kako ono?... da!... i
na taj način prisiliti ih da potraže
olakšavajuće okolnosti, na što mu ja
postavih izravno pitanje da li on još
ima u svom lopovskom spremištu još kakvu
Clownovsku pizdariju u svezi s našom
stvari dajući mu time otvoreno do znanja
da me ne zanima taj njihov ćiftinski
158
Suze Dauta Arfadžana prijedlog, jer sam znao da on time samo
želi izvući korist za sebe, a meni što
usput ostane (kakav cinizam prema
vlastitom životu!), a on mi ipak, za
svaki slučaj, kao da razmišlja o mom
postavljenom pitanju, reče da nema za
sada ništa osobito, te se ponovno vrati
na svoju stvar dodavši da ne bi loše
bilo pokušati to, a ako se predomislim
da mu po čuvaru poručim, na što mu ja
drsko i nestrpljivo podviknem moleći ga
istodobno da me već jednom ostavi na
miru i da on ide lijepo k vragu, a onda
istog trenutka osjetim da sam ono
maloprijašnje izgovorio kranjim naporom
te da je malo nedostajalo da mi se glas
potpuno izgubi, jer sam istodobno prvi
put, istinski, osjetio strah da ne
nestanem zauvijek, što me navede da se159
Sead Mahmutefendić
u zadnjem trenutku suzdržim da mu to
glasno saopćim, i odlučim da mu ništa ne
govorim, krajnjim strpljenjem čekajući
da izađe iz ćelije kako bih napokon
mogao ostati sam, pa da u miru pokušam
potisnuti u stranu sve današnje dojmove
od suviše izgovorenih riječi kojima će,
izgleda, jedini i konačni cilj biti
nahraniti ravnodušne, a meni sad jedino
ostaje da se predam sjećanju na događaje
koji su me doveli na ovo mjesto, samim
tim što sam u posljednje vrijeme počeo
vezivati neke niti u svezi s mojom
Milenom, kojih sada nisam bio svjestan a
koje neću iznijeti na sudu u svoju
obranu što bi za mene, u neku ruku,
moglo predstavljati olakšavajuću
okolnost, jer kako se čovjek može uopće
160
Suze Dauta Arfadžana opravdati i platiti račun od nečega što
na njemu stoji kao što mu i koža stoji,
te kao takvo zauvijek prišiveno i što je
prošlo i zaustavilo se u ušima drugih,
pa stoga, zavalivši se na krevetu,
najprije se prisjetim ono s čime se
sukobio istražni sudac nakon dvije
godine otkako je prošlo od događaja u
kamenolomu nakon kojeg je dvadesetosmog
ožujka tisućudevetstotinaosamdesetprve
godine od moje Lede došla na miliciju
izjava.
2.
Još odranije, u varoši se znalo da
se Daut Arfadžan bavi pisanjem. Znalo se
161
Sead Mahmutefendić
da on u svojim pričama i pjesmama piše o
ljubavnicima po ubogim i samotnim
mjestima. Tako, jednom prilikom, nakon
osme ispijene pivske boce, bez ičijeg
nagovora ili zamolbe, on se penje
najprije na stolac, a zatim na stol,
vadi papir iz unutarnjeg džepa sakoa te
svima u kavani čita sastav u kojem njih
dvoje - ona i on - stoje ispod golog
drveta a s neba ih obasjava bljedožuta
mjesečina.
Tišina je neko vrijeme trajala do
prvih glasova koji prekinuše pjesnika iz
zanesenosti. Izgleda, da je imao nakanu
još nešto pročitati ili pak dočitati, no
dokonjaci oko njega zahtijevali su da se
ne prestane s pijenjem, pa su ga ruke
162
Suze Dauta Arfadžana svukle sa stolca i oni su vikali: “Uraa!
Gore poezija! Dolje svakodnevnica!”
Bilježnicu s pričama i stihovima
držao je Daut na najgornjoj polici svoje
knjižnice od tridesetak knjiga. Kao neku
relikviju, ljubomorno ju je čuvao i
skrivao od svačijeg pogleda i dodira.
Ali osam piva otkriše svu stvar.
Nikom to, dakle, nije promaklo,
niti ostalo neprimjećenim, a niti se
Daut više nije posebice trudio da to
prikrije. Dapače, kao da je neki golem
teret sebi s leđa svalio. Što više, sad
je nastojao što veći broj varošana s tim
upoznati i upozoriti kako oni u svojoj
sredini imaju živog živcatog pjesnika. U
tome je on toliko daleko odlazio da
veoma često nije bio u stanju praviti
163
Sead Mahmutefendić
razliku između onih koje tobože zanima
njegovo pisanje, te od toga na koncu
naprave lakrdiju i onih koji ga iz
sažaljenja slušaju i brane od takvih
zajedljivaca. Kao da nije, bogznakoliko,
mario za takve. Nije se obazirao ni na
koga. A ako bi to i uočio, s nekom
lakomislenom ironijom pravdao je to
priprostim i zaostalim duhom ove
selendre. On će svojom poezijom
odnjegovati i ispuniti srca ovih ljudi,
koji imaju uši, ali ne znaju čuti, koji
imaju oči, ali ne znaju vidjeti.
Sve je on dopuštao - i da ga vuku
za rukav, da ga dlanom prostački lupaju
po ramenu, posprdnim riječima ponižavaju
- ali nikad nije nalazio shodnim to
zamjeriti i uzeti im za zlo. On je
164
Suze Dauta Arfadžana pjesnik, prema tome, iznad njih je, te
bi bilo glupo od njega prebacivati im za
te njihove sitne podlosti, podmetanja i
zlobe.
Bješe i takvih drznika koji su
posezali za onom njegovom bilježnicom,
trudeći se tobože da je se domognu, a
kad bi vidjeli da im to ne polazi za
rukom, namigujući iza njegovih leđa,
nudili su Dautu kuću, svoju ženu,
sestru, samo da im se smiluje i posudi
im je.
“Ti ne znaš što nosiš sa sobom,
čovječe!” - govorili su. “To je bomba!
Neko će te ucmekati zbog te teke. Samo
se ti zafrkaji.”
”Što bi mene neko ubio?” - pitao
se u čudu Daut.
165
Sead Mahmutefendić
“A što ne bi!” Dokopa se, čovo,
ljepo tvoje teke i evo mu love dok papke
ne otegne. Je l’ ti sad jasno, čovječe
božji?”
Daut je gledao svečano raspoložen.
- Znaš li ti Daute, da su
Amerikanci izumili pištoljčić koji se
nosi u ustima? Priđe ti frajer u mraku
koji ima tako nešto u ustima a zna da si
pun pjesama, i to ne bilo kakvih. Taj
l’jepo zine, aktivira onaj svoj
pištoljčić u ustima i ucmeka te njime.
Uzme ti teku iz džepa i objavi tvoje
pjesme pod svojim imenom. Nit oro nit
kopo, lova je tu. I zato, sunce moje,
kad ti neko priđe u mraku, a ti imaš tu
svoju bilježnicu u džepu, ti samo
166
Suze Dauta Arfadžana drekni: “Zini, golube, da ti vidim
zubiće.”
“Šta će meni njegovi zubi?” upita
Daut.
“Eto, toliko, zanima te jesu li
mu socijalni.”
“Jest’, da ne bi, on zine i
ubije me onom svojom pištoljčugom” -
odgovara spremno Daut.
Neki su bili toliko grlati i
bezobzirni da su otvoreno, pred Dautom,
sumnjali u izvornost njegovih pjesama.
Navodno, oni su čuli od jedne, nije
važno koje osobe, da ih je on kompletno
prepisao od riječi do riječi od jednog
narkomana koji je svirao u jednom
sastavu. Taj momak, čim je izašao iz
bolnice, tužio ga je sudu zbog te krađe,
167
Sead Mahmutefendić
te u zadnji čas spriječio da “od
njegovih duševnih muka, mučnih
preživljavanja, neprospavanih noći,
duševnih muka i silnih drogiranja” ne
ispadne Dautova knjiga.
Dok su smišljali sve opakije i
zluradije optužbe iznoseći stalno nova
sumnjičenja, do modrica su laktovima
ćuškali jedni druge. Osjećali su da
život nije toliko jalov koliko im se
ponekad takvim učini. Uz rakiju i uz
budalu, zna on i te kako biti lijep,
zanimljiv i lagodan.
3.
Prvi kišni rujanski dani zatekli su
Dauta potištenog i utučenog. Nije uopće
sebi osporavao da je tome najveći krivac 168
Suze Dauta Arfadžana početak školske godine, mada je on
pokušavao, u sasvim izmijenjenim
okolnostima, to zataškati nekim drugim i
časnijim izlikama. Ma koliko ga je sa
svakom godinom sve više boljela i
onespokojavala ta neumoljiva i obvezatna
dužnost, on je uvijek krio u sebi
mogućnost da će ovo biti zadnji put
stati pred učenike i da im - napokon -
jasno i glasno dade do znanja da on nema
njima reći ama baš ništa pametno što bi
im inače rekao izvan škole. Isuviše od
svega ovog, krio je u sebi mogućnost da
posumnja u sebe te otvori pitanje ne
krije li takva nakana, u stvari,
mogućnost slijepog vjerovanja zanošenja
sobom i nije li to opet povlađivanje
svom temperamentu? Još se tome pojavio i
onaj trenutak kad je slabost vrlo lako169
Sead Mahmutefendić
mogla preći u vrlinu, a grijeh se
prikazati kao žrtveni čin. U takvom
slučaju mogao je u ove predškolske sate
slobodno, mirno i staloženo preispitati
o onome što stoji pred njim i više ne
dovoditi sebe u neugodne sumnje je li
ispravno ono o čemu on misli i osjeća.
Nekolicina nastavnika, što je s
njim zajedno radila, nije dijelila te
njegove dvojbe i bojazan. Naprotiv, već
prvi dan, nakon što se iz pristojnosti
srdačno pozdraviše hinjeći veselost zbog
ponovnog viđenja, moglo se jasno opaziti
njihovo zadovoljstvo što su ponovno na
svojim radnim mjestima profesora.
Zaboga, tek ovdje, oni s tim titulama
nešto znače. Tamo, na nekim plažama,
bili su bezimeni i beznačajni, bez
170
Suze Dauta Arfadžana novaca, a ovdje oni nešto znače jer ih
znaju, ljubazni su prema njima i boje ih
se. Najzad, zar se njegova sudbina
toliko razlikovala od njihovih?
Što se tiče bavljenja pisanjem,
Daut mu se još nije posvećivao onoliko
koliko je osjećao da će mu se jednog
lijepog dana sav predati - i dušom i
tijelom. Muku s riječima ostavio je za
neku budućnost. Oduvijek je u to bio
siguran, samo što se ta želja s njegovim
godinama stalno pomjerala, te je on,
ponekad, ozbiljno pomišljao da je
konačno sazrilo vrijeme da se već jednom
uhvati s njom i sav uroni u nju. Koliko
je bio spreman udovoljiti tim
zahtjevima, u dobroj mjeri zavisilo je
od njegove spremnosti da u izvjesnom
smislu preispita svoje sposobnosti. Da171
Sead Mahmutefendić
bi izbjegao ta neugodna pitanja i
sučeljavanja sa samim sobom, u njemu je
do punog izražaja dolazio njegov smisao
za komiku i izrugivanjem na vlastiti
račun, koje je najčešće raslo do
neurotičnog nadrealizma, što se potpuno
pokazalo jedne večeri pred kolegama iz
škole u njegovom iznajmljenom
podstanarskom stančiću. Ta njegova
požuda za smijehom dovodila je ostale u
delirij do suza, ozbiljno prijeteći da
nekom ne rasprsne dijafragmu, mada se
njihova suhoparna i uboga duša nije
mogla obraniti od nekih izvjesnih
njegovih nedoličnih istrčavanja za
vrijeme tog veselja, koje je ipak, u
krajnjoj mjeri, oslobađalo sva ta bića
napetosti i obzira.
172
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
4.
Sujeverno se čuvao Daut da ne
prebrojava ispisane stranice koje je
noćas nakupio, te je sad, rasterećen
sinoćne grozničavosti, ležao opružen na
krevetu i buljio u jednu točku na
stropu, te netremice je promatrao
pokušavajući u njoj pronaći nešto
neobično. Ta mala, obična rupa izgledala
mu je kao da se kreće širokim, bijelim
prostranstvom. Poče mu se sviđati ova
igra očiju i stropa.
Sada je držao točnom svoju raniju
predpostavku da uspješnog pjesnika može
173
Sead Mahmutefendić
tražiti u sebi jedino pod uvjetom da
uzbudljivo učestvuje u životu i pri tom
da sebe troši neštedimice, a ne da
godinama miruje i čeka da se nešto samo
od sebe dogodi. Znao je on dobro da se
mora njegov duh pošteno nečeg
prihvatiti, a ne da bludi i pluta od
jedne do druge ideje, pa da ih, potom,
sve zajedno - prije ili kasnije -
odbaci ili zanemari prije nego što je
osjetio njihovu privlačnost i svoju
snagu. Riječ “ljepota” u njemu je
oduvijek budila odvratnost, te bi on, u
nedostatku da pronađe valjano
objašnjenje takvom osjećaju, pocrvenio i
okrenuo se u stranu. Neugodno, a
istodobno i dirljivo mu je bilo što mora
dokazivati samom sebi, te u neku ruku i
174
Suze Dauta Arfadžana ispričavati se pred svojom savješću,
pred takvim praznim i blijedim
rješenjem. Plemenitost i velikodušnost
su oduvijek morali biti na prvom mjestu
- ovako bi on postavljao stvar odmah na
početku - ali zašto onda zlo ima toliku
djelotvornu i zastrašujuću moć?
Prolaznost i kazna su tu da se nađu kao
utjeha žrtvi za njegovu patnju. Činilo
mu se da je to još otprije sve unaprijed
bilo nakrivo posađeno, te da je ljudski
rod još davno, na početku svoje
predpovijesti, lažno i licemjerno upleo
i ono što čovjek nije, niti nema, niti
može imati - mozga i srca u isto
vrijeme. Samim tim, nešto zbog tromosti
duha, a nešto zbog požude, kojom je u
svom temperamentu olako i brzo prihvatao
stvari, on je jednostavno zaključio da175
Sead Mahmutefendić
na život valja gledati kao što to čini i
svaka srednjevjekovna hagiografija: ovaj
svijet je mjesto po kome vršlja Sotona,
a sveci su iznajmljeni samo radi toga da
se lijepo vidi koliko zla mora podnijeti
čovjek-patnik. Čija će to biti konačna
pobjeda? Onog koji je svijet stvorio i
nametnuo mu lice i volju svoju ili onog
koji se protiv svog Stvoritelja pobunio,
ili pak da ostane vječna zagonetka kao
što je to i oduvijek bila te će i odsad
i zanavijek to biti? A ti, čovječe,
rješavaj je i vječno lupaj glavom - tko
si?
Jednog rominjavog predvečerja,
koncem prosinca, netko je kratko
pozvonio na ulaznim vratima, a potom,
čineći kratke stanke, ponovio to
176
Suze Dauta Arfadžana nekoliko puta. Daut se upita tko bi to
mogao biti u ovo doba. Nitko mu od
poznatih nije ovih dana najavljivao
mogućnost da će ga doći posjetiti u
njegovom stanu. Ta nema sumnje da je to
netko kojeg zasigurno dobro poznaje,
jer, u suprotnom, ne bi se mogla
zamisliti takva drskost da zvonjava
postaje bješnja i učestalija.
On pođe ka vratima koja su bila
nezaključana. Prihvati za kvaku i širom
ih otvori. U isti mah kad on to uradi,
ugasi se svjetlo na stubištu. U
polumraku on ugleda dvoje nacerenih
ljudi, koji su stajali na pragu, a
između njihovih glava, iza njih, ugleda
nepoznatu djevojku. Ono malo svjetlosti
što je dopiralo iz predsoblja bilo je
dovoljno da preopozna ono dvoje naprijed177
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Dragu Sforcana, kolegu s posla i
njegovu djevojku Vandu. Muškarac po
vojnički lupnu cipelom o cipelu.
Partizanski stisnutu šaku bješe
pritisnuo uz sljepoočnicu. Vanda se još
jednom zakikota hrapavim glasom, načetim
od vinjaka i pušenja, ali se ipak sjeti
svog starog i oprobanog štosa da se
ispriča što mu smetaju u ovo doba noći.
Možda je radio pa su ga prekinuli? Ako
je u poslu, nema problema, oni će odmah
otići. Samo su došli da ga vide. Sjetili
su ga se, te mimo reda i čaršijskog
običaja odlučili da mu dođu smetati, a
njegovo je da ih otjera zbog čega se oni
neće ni najmanje naljutiti, ili, pak,
ako nisu u pravu, neka se već jednom
178
Suze Dauta Arfadžana skloni s tih vrata i primi ih dok se svi
nisu posmrzavali.
“Iskrenost je majka
prijateljstva” - završi Vanda.
Opet kake brabonjke, pomisli
Daut.
- Dovodimo ti jednu personu da je
upoznamo s Tvojom Ekselencijom - reče
Vanda. - Da ne kažeš da ne mislimo na
tebe. Nismo mi jagnjožderi i
šljokadžije. Ovo će biti tvoja rasa.
Osjećao je Daut zlobu u njenom
glasu. Tko ne zna Vandu? Dugo je ona
bila njegova djevojka, predugo da bi je
površno poznavao. Pitanje je bilo kad će
se njih dvoje napokon vjenčati. Zašto je
pukla tikva, to nikad nitko nije uspio
179
Sead Mahmutefendić
saznati, niti su oni ikom htjeli
povjeriti.
- Neslaganje naravi - zaključio
je u šah-sali brico Škico.
- Mi se još jednom izvinjavamo
ako smo te prekinuli - reče Vanda. -
Htjeli smo ovu noć podijeliti s tobom.
Mi smo, koju čašicu više... Ti si uvijek
bio stari drugar.
- Drugarčina! - ispravi je
dvosmisleno Daut.
- A ako ih njihov drugarčina,
boemčina i piščina, budući naš laureat
Nobela izbaci, to ne znači da oni ne
priliče njegovom društvu i tu nema ko da
se ljuti - upade Drago. - A njima je
najmanje stalo da njega naljute i to na
njegovom terenu, jer stan je, dobro
180
Suze Dauta Arfadžana slušaj Vanda, po ustavu, nepovrediv i
neprikosnoven.
- Ulazite već jednom - pozva ih
Daut unutra.
Drago izvadi litrenjak iz džepa.
Najprije zabi Vandi grlić boce u rilo, a
onda tim istim grlićem ponudi Dauta:
“Ako ti se ne gadi Vandin ruž”.
- Živjela Nobelova nagrada! -
naceri se Vanda nakon što otpi dobar
gutljaj.
Taj čas ih Daut uhvati oboje za
ruku, te ih povuče za sobom u
predsoblje. Tek je sad mogao bolje
vidjeti onu djevojku što je svo vrijeme
šutila iza njih. U prvi mah, učini mu se
da ne bi mogla imati više od dvadeset,
dvadesetjedne-dvadesetdvije godine.
181
Sead Mahmutefendić
Kad se svo četvero nađoše u
predsoblju, Daut zatvori za njima vrata,
škiljnuvši prije toga očima po stubištu
da ih tko nije prisluškivao. Susjeda s
gornjeg kata, uhvaćena između željeznih
šipki, klisnu s kantom prema kanalu da
prospe smeće.
Najzad se i Drago iskobelja iz
Vandinih ruku da Dautu predstavi
nepoznatu djevojku. Mrseći i gutajući po
nekoliko suglasnika u jedan, reče
hrapavim glasom, da na svu sreću nije
nikad bio nikakav kavaljer i da ne
vjeruje da će mu to poći za rukom ovaj
put, pa će mu, stoga, po seljački reći
da zna kako će djevojku zvati, da se
dotična persona odaziva na ime Milena.
182
Suze Dauta Arfadžana Ostalo nije važno. To će već biti njegov
problem.
Mada se oduvijek nesvjesno
pribojavao isticati svoju momačku čast,
Daut nije mogao a da se ne potrudi
ostaviti utisak na nepoznatu, koju, eto,
prvi put vidi u životu. Kad god je
mogao, izbjegavao je prilike sebe
dovesti u takvo iskušenje. No ako bi se
to već dogodilo, kao što je to bio sad
slučaj, on nije mogao a da ne bude
nepovjerljiv, što je ponekad znalo preći
u bolesnu i umišljenu sumnju, osobito
ako se pred njim nalazila nježna i
smjerna, poetski osjenčene i lirske
fizionomije, te sanjarskih očiju ona za
kojom je vječno žudio njegov duh.
183
Sead Mahmutefendić
Dogodilo se i to da baš u tom
trenutku doživi gadnu sramotu pred sobom
i gostima i da učini ono što izazva
njihov glasan i neobuzdan smijeh. Zbog
toga se pretjerano razbjesnio na svoju
neopreznost i na ovu zlobnu lajavicu i
ženturaču Vandu, koja prva zamjeti da
tu nešto smrdi i da tu nije baš čist
zrak. U pitanju je grah ili kelj. Ne bi
se moglo točno odrediti.
On zausti nečim peckavim joj
vratiti, ali se na vrijeme zaustavi i to
najviše zbog toga što je bila u njegovom
stanu, pa bi to bilo prilično
nedomaćinski od njega.
Samo što obuzda bijes, osjeti se
potištenim.
184
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Tijekom večeri, morat ću joj
vratiti lopticu. Ili - neću! nije mi
valjda još do nje stalo! Ona to i čeka i
sve to radi da bi dočekala taj trenutak
njegove slabosti kako bi osjetila da mu
je povrijedila bolno mjesto. Je li i ova
tu žena njena zamka? Koliko poznajem
žene, bilo bi to priličito nelogično.
Vanda ga još neko vrijeme
zadirkivala. Podsmijavala mu se sve dok
tu njenu pijanu i živčanu
praznorječivost nije prekinuo Drago,
ukorivši je ozbiljno da ne bi valjalo
zlorabiti Dautovu naklonost prema njoj,
te da je njegovo strpljenje vjerojatno
tanje od njene nasrtljivosti.
- Odlijepi se već jednom od
čovjeka! Pa što ako je prno? Ti prdiš
185
Sead Mahmutefendić
stalno, a ako bi nekom stalo da broji
tvoje štucanje večeras, vjerojem da bi
se tu i digitron pokvario.
- Vaško jedna, nisam nijednom.
Kad sam to? - okrenu se bijesno Vanda ka
njemu.
- Ti to izvedeš pianissimo - reče
Drago. - Stisneš bulju i pustiš vjetar.
Tako se, draga moja, ne bi čuli ni
tajfuni.
- Kako ti to činiš? - obrecnu se
ona.
- Ja mogu požar ugasiti - reče
on.
- Ili ga razgoriti - sasvim
iznenada napravi Milena upadicu.
U svu tu pretjeranu i djetinjastu
obazrivost, Daut je znao ponekad unijeti 186
Suze Dauta Arfadžana i priličito zlobe, te razorne i
neobuzdane parodije, što je na prisutne
obično ostavljalo utisak napuhane
zajedljivosti i neotesanosti, a njih bi
njegove jetke i satirične primjedbe
ponajčešće stavljalo u inferioran
položaj i dovodilo do zbunjenosti da bi
jednostavno isti čas ušutili, nakon što
bi počeo njegov neobuzdani monolog,
grlat i sonoran, gdje bi u prvi plan
dolazio njegov pjevljivo plačljiv
južnohercegovački dijalekat. Izuzetak bi
bio jedino - slučaj - da ga je
potištenost toliko zgrabila i osvojila
da nije imao više volje ikoga u tom svom
jadu i čamotinji nadvisiti i zakačiti,
niti načina nekome doskočiti, te bi tu
stvar, jednostavno, ostavljao po strani,
držeći da ne zavređuje niti trunku187
Sead Mahmutefendić
pozornosti, a ponajmanje da bi se trudio
za nju tražiti kakvu duhovitu riječ.
Zbog toga, on ni ovaj put ne udostoji
Vandu svog pogleda, hineći da ga se
njena maliciozna primjedba nije ni
najmanje dojmila. Znao je on, i to dobro
znao, da to njoj nije mogao ničim
umješno odglumiti, jer je ona njegovu
šutnju upoznala kao njegovu zbunjenost,
inače bi on već pronašao kakav zgodan
kontradrajf vratiti joj lopticu. Ovaj
put je mogao samo ono dvoje drugih
blefirati.
Da bi pokazao svoju velikodušnost
prema Vandi, mada ga je ona svo vrijeme
silno živcirala svojim izazovnim
pogledom, on je propusti da prođe u sobu
za dnevni boravak. Kad bješe mimo njega,
188
Suze Dauta Arfadžana ona se na trenutak zaustavi, ali on
makinalno zakrenu glavu u stranu.
Skoro ga nije zanimala ni Milena.
Vjerojatno je tome bio razlog što već
bješe umislio kako bi ona mogla biti
Vandina zamka, pa prema tome i njena
buduća osveta. U Draginu umješanost i
njegove nečasne nakane oko te
eventualnosti nije niti sumnjao. Na taj
sumnjičavi oprez najviše ga je natjerala
maloprijašnja Vandina indiskretnost.
Zato je istog trenutka čvrsto odlučio u
sebi biti strpljiv s gostima, da večeras
priča što manje i da ih sve zajedno drži
na distanci.
Osvetit ću se ja tebi, gledao je on
u Vandinu zadnjicu.
189
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Milena je moja rodica po
majčinoj liniji - reče Vanda zavalivši
se ponovno u fotelju. - Samo toliko
daleko da me njena porodica ne bi mogla
prokleti ako mi je neko zdrpi ispred
očiju.
Osvetiću se ja tebi, kezila se
Vanda na Dauta.
On žmirnu. Vidje da Vanda nešto
Mileni pripovijeda. Ne smije on ovako
umišljati jer bi se moglo dogoditi da
počne sam sa sobom pričati.
Veći dio vremena govorio je Drago
sam a dvije žene su mu, pokatkad, kratko
i ležerno, upadale u riječ. Vanda se i
dalje pijano cerila i svako toliko
dolijevala do vrha vinjak u staklene
čašice. Pri tom je tvrdoglavo i uporno,
190
Suze Dauta Arfadžana do prave napasti, nutkala Dauta i molila
ga da ispije na dušak.
Oko Milene se nije osobito trudila.
Dragu nije morala ni moliti, jer je on
cijelo vrijeme bez prestanka brbljao,
cijedio glas iz svog umornog i hrapavog
grla, te po svaku cijenu nastojao
društvo nasmijavati i uveseljavati.
Uzbuđen prekomjernim alkoholom, govorio
je zacrvenjelih obraza i zacakljenih
očiju, pomalo grozničavo. Njegove riječi
nisu tekle tako neprekidno, već ih je
nabacivao, ali ipak sa toliko osjećaja
da je Daut morao, za sebe, ustanoviti
kako ga nikad ranije nije slušao da tako
rječito izlazi iz samoga sebe.
Kao uzgred, Daut zamjeti da ne
vjeruje kako čovjek može biti sretan u
191
Sead Mahmutefendić
Božjem daru na koji je bez svoje volje
primljen. Doda još i to da gdje nema
čovjekove volje, tu nema ni slobode.
- Ali drugi su za njega odlučili
- zamjeti Drago.
- Drugi su drugi - odgovori Daut.
- Čovjek nije drugi pa makar to
predpostavljalo i istorodnu krv.
Na to će Drago: “Rado ću priznati
da se slažem s tobom ukoliko pod drugim
ne predpostavljaš toplinu i dubinu
osjećanja, razumijevanje i opraštanje,
što u onom drugom čovjeku izaziva
podozrivost, te vremenom u njemu formira
isuviše nedruštven karakter. Ali ako tim
istim čovjekom - predpostavljam tobom -
čim si onako zgodno i vješto uspostavio
onakvu korelaciju, stalno vlada i guši
192
Suze Dauta Arfadžana ga taština, koja nije ništa drugo već
surogat paranoje, a koju on, usput
rečeno, krivo drži za ponos i ugled,
tada ta ista individua, persona - kako
ti voliš reći - mogla bi se malo
potruditi da ne bude uvijek spremna da
se baš u zlu pokaže. Uzimam za sebe
slobodu da primijetim kako nije u redu
često reagovati na ono što čovjek čuje
od drugih, jer to ne dolikuje renomeu
pjesnika, što bi svakako htio biti i što
smatram izvjesnim da ti imaš u sebi, ali
nije nećeš nikad prečistiti ako ne
istjeraš iz sebe primisao da ćeš sa
stihom izbaviti bijede drugih. Ne
dozvoli da te zatruje duhovna sirotinja
i pustoš drugih, kao ni da te zavedu ni
potčine njihovi pojmovi. Međutim, moram
se osloboditi jednog pogrešnog193
Sead Mahmutefendić
vaspitanja koje je zasnovano na
nekritičkom čitanju petparačkih
životopisa velikih ljudi, što je kod
tebe izazivalo i danas izaziva takvu
konfuziju koja će te vremenom dovesti do
takvih grozničavih stanja, te i dalje
izazivati u tebi mnoge nedoumice. Zato
ti dajem jednu neromantičnu preporuku:
treba se vratiti ljudima, jer toj silnoj
publici treba biti upućena tvoja
poezija.
Ovo zadnje izgovorio je u jednom
dahu i s takvim zanosom da su za
trenutak sve troje prisutnih sasvim
utihnuli pa je i sama Vanda, zanesena
njegovim monologom, držala neko vrijeme
ispražnjenu bocu nad napunjenom čašom.
194
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Izgleda da je i Drago bio ponešto
očaran onim što je maloprije izgovorio.
Vidjelo se to po njegovim zakrvavljenim
očima, punim sitnih crvenih kapilara,
svečanom i metalnom glasu, kojim je
Vandi stavio otvorenu primjedbu da već
jednom prestane koketirati s tom
prokletom bocom, već da konačno saspe
taj ostatak od nekoliko kapi iz te
bocetine, a ne da bulji u njega tako
bedasto i teleći kad ništa od svega ovog
ne razumije, već ih drži za obične
gluposti.
- Sreća je biti tako plitak -
reče on. - Takvim je najlakše podnositi
življenje. Mišljenje je, draga moja,
veoma težak posao, zato se veliki broj
ljudi ne voli njime ni baviti.
195
Sead Mahmutefendić
On je pokuša dohvatiti rukom, ali
ga ona bijesno odbi, dureći se na njega.
Znao je on dobro da to nju ne može
držati više od pet minuta, te mu je to
bio najjači razlog pred sobom, sestrom i
majkom, da nikad nije ni pomišljao
ostaviti ili napustiti Vandu. Znao je on
i za njezinu raniju vezu s Dautom. Nikad
je nije upitao zašto su njih dvoje
raskinuli i tko je tome kriv. A ona,
sita pustolovina, znala je to i te kako
poštivati i držati. Ovaj put je bila
nešto povrijeđena, pa je ni društvo oko
nje nije moglo spriječiti da suzdrži
svoj bijes: “Ti si, Drago stvarno prost.
Ovo ti moram otvoreno reći” - kaza ona.
“Evo ovako pred Dautom i Milenom, što
196
Suze Dauta Arfadžana jest - jest! Stvarno si prevršio svaku
mjeru”.
- Tačno. Prevršila Dara mjeru -
potvrdi Drago.
Vanda pomisli da doda i usputnu
ispriku, ali joj se učini da bi je to
još više unizilo pred društvom. Stoga
ona reče: “Stvarno ka’ ti kažem.”
Drago ju je pijano gledao u oči.
Osjećao je strahovit umor od današnjeg
dana. Bilo mu je žao što ju je doveo
dovdje ovakvim svojim nepriličitim
ispadom, ali ga je pijanstvo i
omamljenost tjeralo da to čini i dalje.
Vanda, zbunjena, ovom njegovom
šutnjom protumači to na sasvim suprotan
način, te opet po drugi put ponovi:
“Stvarno ka’ ti kažem.” Ti znaš mene,
197
Sead Mahmutefendić
ja se naljutim samo kad se mjera
prevrši”.
- Čuješ - pokušavao je Drago
ostati mirnim. On nervozno poče otezati
samoglasnike. - Nemoj me tako slušati,
zauvijek to jednom zapamti.
To je svjesno i umješno činio da ne
bi pomrsio glasove i da ne dovede sebe
pred društvom u situaciju da bunca. Tek
će sad poludjeti kad bi mu netko, makar
u šali, predložio da ne bi bilo loše za
večeras prestati i dozvoliti da još osim
njega izusti koju riječ.
I pored svega, u glasu mu je
treperila maloprijašnja uzbuđenost.
- Tako se ni u Akademiji nauka ne
sluša. Kako si ti mene maloprije
198
Suze Dauta Arfadžana slušala. Ti si malo pobrkala pojmove o
mjestu gdje se nalaziš.
- E ovo, Drago, sad prelazi svaku
mjeru reče ona.
Sad se činilo da se stvarno
uvrijedila.
- Pa kad ti velim - reče on nešto
obazrivije - Hajde reci, šta sam
maloprije srao ovom tu čovjeku? Izvoli,
mikrofon je tvoj.
- Ti si, Drago, večeras... znaš
već šta. Stvarno si prešao svaku mjeru,
sve granice - reče ona falsirajući
glasom, skoro na rubu plača i bolne
uvrijeđenosti, tako da se činilo da će
svaki čas zaridati.
- Uzmi ti, stara moja, jednu bocu
iz Dautovog buffeta, pa ti nama nalij da
199
Sead Mahmutefendić
mi nazdravimo što mi imamo jedno drugo -
pun samosažaljenja on pokuša izbjeći
neugodnu situaciju pred Dautom i
Milenom. U sebi je kleo piće koje ga
uvijek dovede da bude nervozno i
perverzno arogantan.
- Toči sam - kratko mu ona
odbrusi.
- Nitko to ne zna ženeroznije od
tebe to učiniti - pruži on ruku prema
njoj.
- Sprdaj se ti s drugim a ne
samnom - ljutnu se ona. - Znaš li ti da
se ja sva osprem slušajući kako se ti
silno razbacuješ svojom lijevom
filozofijom i tim stranim riječima da
čovjeku naprosto dođe želja da sve
povrati.
200
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Znači da ti ne idem baš sto
posto na živce dok moraš zabijati prst u
rilo da povratiš - reče on s ironijom. -
Onim ostatkom riganja slušaš me kao da
pratiš neku pristojnu besjedu u
Akademiji nauka.
- Odvratan si - reče ona. - Sad
mi se stvarno povraća.
- Izvoli povrtaćati, šta čekaš? -
viknu on muklim glasom do tenora.- Ja ti
žalim suze. Hoću ti skrenuti pažnju da
već jednom prestaneš koketirati i
postaneš prirodna, te da ne glumiš
zanimanje za stvari do kojih ti je stalo
kao meni do Bijenala ozbiljne glazbe u
Zagrebu. Razotkrivanje tvoje glume
dovodi te do vulkanskog bijesa. Odakle
ti takva potreba da ti srce nikad ne
201
Sead Mahmutefendić
vidim na licu? Tad bi bila još ljepša i
ne bi bio siguran ustvrditi da me ne bi
pomalo hvatala ljubomora što si prije
mene možda nekom drugom pripadala.
Ovako, ostaje mi da vagam svoju i onog
drugog inteligenciju i da se ne bi smio
sa sigurnošću okladiti da sam pametniji
od njega. Sva tvoja sreća što ja nemam
takvu jednostavnost govora u načinu
izražavanja, već je u mojoj glavi sve
tolko nejasno, mutno, mistično i
komplikovano da nekad ni sam ne znam što
u stvari govorim. Zapetljam se. A
jednostavnost je odlika nedilemičnih
duhova, koji znaju da živjeti znači -
jesti, piti, tucati - uz strast i spokoj
da se iz toga neće ispiliti neki novi
čovjek. Ja ne živim, ja jednostavno sebi
202
Suze Dauta Arfadžana komplikujem život kojekakvim transce-
dentalnim glupim pitanjima: gdje? šta?
kuda? čemu? zbog čega? zašto? i sličnim
glupostima.
- Ti si stvarno noćas... -
umornim glasom prekide ga Vanda.
- U glasu joj se nije osjećala
strast polemizirati s njim oko sukoba
koji bješe maloprije iskrsnu između
njkih dvoje.
- Šta sam ja? - upita on. - Reci,
već jednim, šta sam ja? Ludak?
- Stvarno si večeras prevršio
svaku mjeru - reče ona. - Nas dvoje smo
načeli i drugu bocu.
- Evo ti zato šapa - pruži joj on
ruku. - Čim bi ti se mogao zakleti da se
apsolutno slažem s tobom. Tvoja
203
Sead Mahmutefendić
jednostavnost me je opet oborila na
plećke.
Kad bi ti tako ona stvar radila kao
što ti jezik radi, pomisli on na ono što
je predpostavljao da se ona ustručava
reći. “Reci! Reci slobodno!”
- Što da reknem? čudila se ona.
- Reci bar kolko ima sati? -
zavapi on.
- Ovo dvoje ljudi dosta su se
naslušali naše komedije - zamjeti on
nakon kraće stanke. - Sad je stvarno red
da se zastor spusti, da im se poklonimo
i da odemo s pozornice.
- To je rekao u jednom dahu,
poluglasno, teatralno, pomalo i s
oprezom, što mu se osjetilo u glasu koji
mu je nešto podrhtavao, osobito u 204
Suze Dauta Arfadžana trenutku dok je završavao posljednju
rečenicu.
A tad, Dautu i Mileni jedino
preostade zabrinuto motriti neće li
Vanda ostati zabrinuta na ove njegove
zadnje riječi ili će preći preko njegove
zajedljivosti, te mu prići i na kraju
predstave ponovno ga zagrliti,
shvaćajaću sve ovo kao bezlenu i
nezlonamjernu šalu. Daut je to znao još
bolje od nje. Dobro se on sjećao što mu
Vanda biješe rekla, davno, jednom
prilikom: “Potrebno je mnogo duha da bi
se lijepo pričalo i mnogo razuma da bi
se šutilo”.
Ipak se ne bi nimalo iznenadio kad
bi mu sad prišla i zagrlila ga poslije
svega ovog, i to pred njim. Ne bi to
205
Sead Mahmutefendić
shvatio kao njenu provokaciju. Godine i
bore na koži donose sa sobom kompromise.
to ne mora ni uraditi, ona je to već
pokazala u priličitoj mjeri.
Kakva je to nekad bila bjesna
mačka!
Ostatak večeri Daut je s usiljenom
društvenošću pokušavao iskazati živost,
šalu i veselje, a osjećao se, u stvari,
hladno i prljavo. Besumnje, smatrao se
manje-više sposobnim za tako nešto, mada
nije uvijek bio siguran da se može
pouzdati da ta njegova dobra volja za
glumom u njemu će izazvati umor od
napora, smješkanje, hladnu dosadu, te na
kraju preći u otvorenu apatiju i
mrzovolju. On je to činio da bi tobože
stvorio neki topliji ugođaj. u tome je
206
Suze Dauta Arfadžana bila sadržana dobra mjera pomanjkanja
njegova osjećaja za okolicu, čemu je bio
razlog što je većinom u takvim
slučajevima polazio od stanovišta da mu
drugi nisu dorasli duhom; zato su mu
dovoljan dokaz njihovi plitki i površni
razgovori. Stoga se on nije osjetio
zapostavljenim i povrijeđenim u
trenucima dok su Vanda i Drago vodili
onako besomunačn dijalog. Zašto bi se
morao upuštati u jednu takvu besplodnu
diskusiju, i to s Vandom, njegovom
starom ljubavi, koju su i on i ona već
davno prežalili i zaboravili. Sad je
imao preko puta stolića novu, mlađu,
puteniju žensku. Brbljanje ovo dvoje
izmoždenih papagaja mu je ovaj put dobro
došlo da prikrije svoju zbunjenost.
207
Sead Mahmutefendić
Takvom svom čudesnom i izvanrednom
raspoloženju on je pridavao svoj
plemenit osjećaj kojeg je potkrepljivao
svojom ljupkošću, što se na kraju moglo
sve vrlo lako pretvoriti u njegovu
zaljubljenost. Tako je nekad bilo i s
Vandom.
On, doduše, poče osjećati onaj
opasan početak potište-nosti i
izbačenosti, koji mu ne daju uklopiti se
u opće raspoloženje. To je u njemu još
više izazivalo i pojačavalo prezir prema
svima osim one kojoj se njegova duša već
bješe uputila.
Daut je pružio ruku da uzme
cigaretu iz načete paklice, iako će biti
već dvije godine kako je prestao pušiti.
To je moralo kod Vande i Drage izazvati
208
Suze Dauta Arfadžana najprije iznenađenje, pa onda
podozrivost, ali su oni tu očitu
činjenicu jednostavno prešutjeli bez
ikakve primjedbe, držeći da bi to pred
Milenom bilo možda neumjesno i
netaktično. Tu njihovu uviđavnost Daut
bješe previdio, a nije je ni mogao
uočiti jer su njegove oči nezdravo i
pohotno sjajile tako da su bile pune
suza. On je bio sad dalek sad ovo dvoma
ljudima i - nekako - pun neke hladne
tuge, tako da se na njih oboje dojmila
njegova neprijazna rasijanost. Stoga oni
prešutno odlučiše da ga peckanjem ne
povrijede.
Manirom raskalašnih i uviđavnih
ljudi, njih dvoje, odmah nakon one svađe
i brza pomirenja, nađoše nekog posla,
najprije u kuhinji - da tobože traže209
Sead Mahmutefendić
neke skrivene Dautove kolače ili pršut -
a potom u spavaćoj sobi ne bi li
pronašli u njegovoj knjižnici neku dobru
stvar čime bi i oni nahranili svoj
mozak.
U drugim prilikama takve upadice
činile bi mu se umjesnim i čak su mu
draškale zakorovljenu altruističku
taštinu. Ovaj put on osjeti, u ovoj
njihovoj iznenadnoj i sladunjavoj gesti,
zamku što mu se učini provodažijskim i
podvodačkim, a nada sve - podlačkim.
Mada mu se to uvjerenje ocrta u
polusvjesti, ipak se nije mogao ophrvati
činjenici da je ostao sam sa ženskom
koja je sve to previdjela, pri tom
zadržavajući onaj uvijek jedan te isti,
nevini, anđeoski izraz na licu, te
210
Suze Dauta Arfadžana ostala nijema i mirna s onom istom
bljedolikošću na mršavoj glavi iznad
koje je, po njegovu ironičnom sudu, još
jedino nedostajal svetačka aureola.
Koliko je Dauta golicala njena
blizina, toliko ga je izazivao na pomamu
predosjećaj njegove skorašnje indiskre-
cije, pa čak i grešnosti na koju je već
u tim trencima pomišljao. To ga je
istodobno čas umirivalo, čas razdra-
živalo dotle da je svaki čas morao
protezati ruku ili nogu. Jer - konačno -
njih dvoje su sami. Zna on dobro da se
za Vandu i Dragu ne može sa sigurnošću
tvrditi da imaju strpljenja listati po
knjigama, a kamo li ih čitati. Zato mu
se njihova tobožnja, neumješna himba za
kolače i pršut učini providnom i
izlišnom što kod njega, ubrzo, izazva211
Sead Mahmutefendić
otvoreno, grčevito, koprcavo, podozrivo
uzbuđenje. Besumnje da su pri tom osobni
razlozi odigrali značajnu ulogu i da su
bili jači od duhovnih. Kao takve, on ih
je sve više osjećao i naslućivao. Jedino
mu nije bilo jasno da li bi se tu negdje
moglo govoriti o izvjesnoj odanosti
glave prema srcu. On je morao prvi da
joj se javi, jer - na kraju - ona je
prva došla k njemu.
5.
Milena je bila koštunjava, te se
doimala, otprilike, bar sedam-osam
godina mlađom od Dauta. Glas joj je bio
tugaljiv, a rečenicu je najčešće
počinjala rezigniranim: “Hm.” Na
pitanje: Kako ste vi, gospođice?”,
212
Suze Dauta Arfadžana odgovarala je: “Hm.” i sa dvosmislenim
smješkom otklanjala glavom u stranu.
To se njemu ponešto činilo drskim,
ali je ipak nalazio zadovoljstva da
uživa u njenom promuklom i dubokom
glasu. Ona mu nije davala bogzna kakve
prilike da je sluša dugo; ona je više
voljela da on priča ili pita, pa bi na
svako njegovo pitanje odgovarala što je
moguće kraće, potpuno se kloneći
replika. Nekoliko škrto iscijeđenih
riječi izustila bi kroz usne, koje je
nerado pomicala što je on, bez razmi-
šljanja, prosto sebi tumačio kao njeno
mazno koketiranje. Što više, on se
osjeti pomalo i ganutim zbog te svoje
uviđajnosti, koju je oduvijek držao više
za intuitivnu nego za racionalnu. Logika
i matematika ga nisu nikad osobito213
Sead Mahmutefendić
zanimale, te je njima konstantno i
uporno suprotstavljao intuiciju i
fantaziju.
Koketa ili ne - nije važno. Na njoj
je sve dražesno: i glas i riječi, te
odmjereni i raspoređeni intervali u
kojima ih ona smjerno izgovara. njenu
pojavu je sjenčilo sjetno raspoloženje,
koje joj je kod duhova Dautovog tipa
moglo donijeti samo naklonost i
povjerenje. Hoće li ona pogrešno
shvatiti to što mu se glava doista
toliko crvenila kad se on zajedno s njom
toliko smijao nekim svojim usiljenim
vicevima i šalama, koje se mogu još naći
samo po provincijalnim ili tvorničkim
listuljcima na temu seksa.
214
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Izgleda da je on prenaglio ili je
ona na vrijeme shvatila da mora staviti
brklju na njegove pomalo smione
insinuacije. Ni za trenutak nije sebi
dozvoljavala da se zaboravi i da pokvari
utisak koji je stekla svojom čednom i
svetačkom fizionomijom. Ona se u jednom
trenutku čak usudi suprotstaviti mu se
na njegovu nonšalantnost ophođenja i da
ga pri tom blago prekori, upućujući mu
moralnu primjedbu: “Nećete se valjda
zbog toga naljutiti na mene?” - reče
iznenađeni Daut. “Ja sam spreman na
koljenima moliti od vas za oproštaj.”
- Hm - isfrflja ona.
To nije mogao sebi drugačije
objasniti nego kao trenutak da njoj
prepusti inicijativu, te da on odsad
215
Sead Mahmutefendić
promatra nju iz sigurne zasjede. Time
joj je sasvim jasno dao do znanja što je
naglo ušutio, koliko-toliko hinjeći
tobožnju uvrijeđenost.
Sa ženskim rodom se ne isplati
spontanost, pomisli on, mada žene na
njoj vječno inzistiraju. Njih treba
ignorirati ili im jasno dati do znanja
što hoćeš od njih. Njihova taktika, kao
kod svih prosječnih ženskaroša, lebdjela
je neodlučno na polovici - uvijek
između straha i stida da bude odbijen i
pritajene mržnje zbog toga što je
fiziologija dovela u ovakav bijedan
položaj.
No, pošto se to nije moglo ovdje
javno hvaliti i kori-ti, on je to mogao
samo zapaziti i ustvrditi kao činjenicu,
216
Suze Dauta Arfadžana jer - na kraju - ipak je živo u strepnji
da ga ne napusti živ i lukav duh, kao ni
nadahnuće, mada je na ovo prvo imao u
jednoj svojoj zapisanoj bilješci
ozbiljnu primjedbu da je tobožnja
društvenost najčešće rezultat čovjekovog
egoizma, odnosno njegovog straha od
samoće, te neznanja i nemoći da se bude
prijatelj samom sebi. Jeste, to je on
zapisao jedne besane noći, kad mu se
činilo da mu je sve postalo jasno na
ovom ringišpilu što se zove život.
Jedino je istina da on od svega toga
osjeća silnu vrtoglavicu i htio bi,
silno bi htio da se vrtnja zaustavi i da
siđe na zemlju, poljubi je i da čvrsto
stoji na njoj.
Ispod one bilješke je dopisao sebi
pitanje na koje nije ni pokušao217
Sead Mahmutefendić
odgovoriti: “Zašto se ljudi toliko
opterećuju osjećajem krivice kad im ona
nije u stanju spriječiti nji-hovu želju
ili prepuštenost grijehu?” Samo je u
jednoj reče-nici, nekoliko redaka dalje,
pokušao to objasniti, doduše s prilično
cinizma, da misli kako je to izvor
zloglasne kršćanske pakosti i
bezdušnosti. S izvjesnom dozom zlobe, te
razorne i neobuzdane travestije, obično
je ostavljao zanosan utisak na prisutne.
Ta njegova potreba za uveličavanjem,
iskrivljavanjem i dodavanjem za njega je
značila izbjegava-nje ozbiljnog i
jalovog suočavanja sa samim sobom i
spasenju čamotnih i jalovih duhova oko
sebe, kojim se odlikovao najveći broj
razgovora njihovih poznanika. U takvoj
218
Suze Dauta Arfadžana situaci-ji niti je mogao šutiti s
ljubaznom maskom na licu, niti se mogao
ozbiljno predati onim stvarima koje su
ga, zapravo, istinski okupirale. Stoga
je već unaprijed preuzimao opasnu
odgovornost da razara oko sebe
smrtonosno dosadne i malogra-đanski
površne i banalne diskusije, koje se
nisu kretale da-lje od maštanja o seksu,
alkoholu, autu, novcu, te najpri-
mitivnijeg dovijanja da se do nje dođe.
On se ubacivao na ta njihova minska
polja. S manijačkom energijom, koja je
najčešće završavala njegovom totalnom
iscrpljenošću i ispražnjenošću,
samoubilački se bacao na ta mjesta,
sijao zaraznu ironiju i apsurd, te
dovodio atmosferu i uzbuđenje do
usijanja. Sve - i sebe i ostale, cijeli219
Sead Mahmutefendić
svijet - iz perspektive kavanskog stola
ili sobička u njegovom podstanarskom
stančiću, pretvarao je u užasnu i
totalnu iskrivljenu sliku. Sve je u njoj
bilo tako prepozna-tljivo, a ljudi su
bili još gluplji i smješniji, ali manje
opasni i nekako bezazleniji.
Svaki od tih polupijanih, sad već
nezlonamjernih sluša-laca, banalno je
prevodio njegove sve bješnje
asocijacije. Sve ovo zajedno, opasno je
ugrožavalo njegov mir, dosto-janstvo
pred sobom i - naravno - talenat, kojeg
je on više želio pokazati na papiru nego
u kozeriji pred ovim nedo-ličnim
društvom.
Već duže vremena nije napisao niti
jednog retka. Jer, nakon takvih njegovih
220
Suze Dauta Arfadžana vulkanskih navala duha, on bi se dani-ma
osjećao potištenim i fizički slomljenim.
Tad bi izbjega-vao sve ono što nosi
obavezu na osmješak, predusretljivost
ili ogovaranje. Zazirao je i gadio se
svakog život, i dugo vremena bi mu
trebalo da se sredi, dođe k sebi i da se
dove-de u nekadašnji mir i
samonaklonost.
Nešto zbog činjenice što više nije
bio u kondicij, a nešto i zbog stida,
kojeg je on samom sebi kao kaznu name-
tao, on je s osmješkom tumačio tu
osobinu bogumilskim genima u sebi.
Poznanici su ga i dalje držali za
šaljiva i zanimljiva zabavljača, kojeg -
eto provincija ne zna uočiti i iskori-
stiti, već ga guta i pretvara u “jadu s
221
Sead Mahmutefendić
dnevnikom”, te je samo pitanje dana kad
će ga učenici početi povlačiti za ru-kav
ili bacati čičke na njega.
Da nije bio u zanosu, Daut je lako
mogao uočiti za čime su oni težili.
On najednom skrenu razgovor na
područje umjetnosti. Čim on to
nagovijesti prvom rečenicom, Milena
stade kimati glavom ne zaboravljajući
pri tom, uz romantični i lažno za-neseni
osmješak, povremeno stiskati kapke, koji
bi joj trebali zasjenjavati oči. Došavši
konačno na svoju omiljenu temu, on se
potpuno, zaboravljajući na svaki oprez i
predostrožnost da ne gnjavi, prepusti
onom ozbiljnom tonu od kojeg je, inače,
u trijeznim trenucima toliko zazirao,
već je sve ležerno prepuštao lakrdiji i
222
Suze Dauta Arfadžana smijehu. Raspričao se on njoj o svim
piscima, njihovim djelima, njihovim
poeti-kama, kao i svojim
egzistencijalnim, bez ikakva zazora i
opreza, držeći njenu fizionomiju za
istinski refleks njene duše, a nju, kao
još jedno biće s kojim se njegov duh
može susresti ne samo u svemiru, već na
ovoj tvrdoj zemlji, i u sreći uživati u
takvu Božjem daru.
Sam ju je Bog poslao, pomisli.
Još isti čas osjeti kako se u njemu
javlja neutaživa želja za životom, tim
više što ga je ona u tome potpuno
podržavala svojim držanjem i
povlađivanjem u kojem je čak nestalo i
onog njenog hladnog, odbojnog i
dvosmislenog “hm”, a u zamjenu za to,
223
Sead Mahmutefendić
sad je već skoro cijeli sat, kao neki
navijeni pajac, mehanički i poslušno
izgovarala: “da, da” glasom kao da u
ustima drži golem vruć krompir.
6.
Gosti odoše odmah iza devet sati. U
trenutku dok ih je ispraćao na stubištu,
Dautu su drhtale usne. Sve što je
osjećao u tom trenutku bio je mutni
snimak i predosjećaj vjerojatne
mogućnosti da će se Milena ovamo ponovno
vratiti - ranije ili kasnije. U to,
uopće, nije htio sumnjati. Uz to, ako se
u obzir uzmu i okolnosti koje su
predskazivale ovakav tijek događaja, te
da će ispuniti njegova nadanja, sve mu
je to sad izgledalo kao da čuje nečiji
224
Suze Dauta Arfadžana udaljeni glas, koji mu baja i ugodne
stvari šapće na uho.
Ti si se, dragi prijatelju, činilo
mu se da prevodi Vandine i Dragine
podrugljive osmejke, totalno pozdravio s
pameću. Ko je to od tebe mogao
očekivati?
Drago je na dnu stubišta još zbijao
šale na njegov račun, što je Vanda
popraćala grlatim i usiljenim odlomcima
keserenja. Milena ih je slijedila.
Nijednom nije okrenula glavu prema gore,
osim jednog jedinog puta, kad je bila uz
ogradu, dva kata niže. Iskoristila je
priliku dok su njih dvoje, naprijed,
bili zabavljeni oko toga da ne promaše
stepenik, jer u tom dijelu žarulja bješe
pregorjela. Ona proturi glavu preko
225
Sead Mahmutefendić
željezne ograde i pogleda prema gore.
Daut to nije od nje očekivao, bar ne
tad, pa bi prosto iznenađen tim njenim
nepredviđenim gestom, jer je upravo u
tom trenutku do pola zabo prst u nos.
Stid, da se javno suoči sa svojim
osjećajima, bješe još uvijek neugodno
prisutan u njemu, mada se ponekad znao
šaliti na račun toga. Ali sad, kad je
vidio pred sobom, u dubini stubišta
Milenin nedvosmisleni smijeh, koji ga
istog časa prenu iz lake rasijanosti, te
on sa strepnjom pomisli kako na njega
nije odgovorio onako kako bi priličilo
odgovoriti.
I dok ga je još držalo uzbuđenje i
ustreptalnost, on se povrati u stan.
Pogled mu se zaustavi na prljavim
226
Suze Dauta Arfadžana šalicama kave, praznim staklenim
čašicama, a onda, najednom, zaustavi se
da fotelji prevučanoj kardinalskim
plišem. Jedina stvar u stanu koju je
želio imati mimo svojih skromnih
prohtjeva.
Tu je ona do maloprije sjedila,
pomisli on skoro plačna izraza na licu.
7.
Tko je imalo bolje poznavao Dauta,
mogao se začuditi što je tako brzo i
iznenada bacio oko na Milenu te dozvolio
sebi da se u njemu pubertetski zacopa,
obzirom na činjenicu da do tog
poznanstva on u ženskom rodu nije
nalazio ničeg osobito zanimljivog zbog
čega bi, eto, pamet izgubio kao što ju
227
Sead Mahmutefendić
je, izgleda, već izgubio. Da li se to
moglo uzeti kao glavni razlog što se on
počeo sve manje slagati i dolaziti u
povremene nesporazume s okolicom, te je
s prilično vjere računao da će u Milanu
naći ono što je u ljudima već skoro
izgubio, pa je - da bi dostojanstvenim
uočinio svoj život - odlučio da na sve
načine privuče naklonost ove djevojke i
da s njom osnuje svoj vlastiti dom.
Studenoga, te iste godine, on se
toliko približi svojoj novoj poznanici,
tako da se moglo vrlo lako naslutiti da
će se njihova sve češća viđenja
vjerojatno završiti vjeridbom. Samo se
čekalo tko će prvi objelodaniti.
On je bio naočit. U najranijem
djetinjstvu prebolio je dječju paralizu,
228
Suze Dauta Arfadžana koja mu bješe zahvatila lijevu nogu do
koljena, te je, usljed te okolnosti,
otkad zna za sebe, oduvijek bio nježan i
nervozan. Od prvih znakova pubereta u
sebio je otkrio mazohističku potrrebu da
doziva i pomišlja na sopstvenu smrt. U
to vrijeme postaje čest posjetilac
mnogih lječilišta od kojih bješe najduže
u Trapista kod Banjaluke. U trenucima
kad bi ga do fanatičnog uzbuđenja
obuzimala ta njegova strast, on bi
osjećao kako uranja i tone nekud, u neku
neodređenu dubinu iz koje bi potom
neočišćen i smantan izranjao, budeći se
iz tog svog morbidnog solilokvija
potpuno fizički iscrpljen. Znao se
toliko zbog toga zaprepastiti da je isti
tren kleo da te svoje “grešne misli”
229
Sead Mahmutefendić
izbrblja zraku ili nažvrlja na papir. Od
toga će mu biti, vjerojatno, lakše.
Tada mu ne bješe ni sedamnaest
godina. Od onda bješe protekao još jedan
njegov život, a u stvari ništa se
osobito nije dogodilo izuzev činjenica
da je krvnički arčio papir i još ga
krvničkije palio ili derao nadajući se
uspjehu koji, nema sumnje, neminovno
mora doći jednog dana.
Ostavivši po strani te mučne i
neodređene nagovještaje koji su i dalje
utvrđivali neizvjesnost, nelagodu i
nezado-voljstvo u njemu, on je odlučio
da to privremeno otkloni u stranu i da
sredi račun sa sobom u jednoj drugoj
stvari. Sad je predosjećao da će mu
jednoličnost bračnog života donijeti
230
Suze Dauta Arfadžana toliko željeni mir, a redovita
seksualnost red i metodičnost u
književnom radu.
Milena je bila elegantan, obazirv
tip žene. Ona je nastojala u svakoj
prilici istaći tu svoju osobinu ili je
učiniti indiskrenom, stavljajući uz bok
svojoj eleganciji hladno i realno
rasuđivanje kojeg je ona pokazivala
jedino u trenucima kad se od nje
izričito očekivala zatražena riječ. U
svemu tome bila je prisutna njena želja
da skučava, koliko je to god više
moguće, svoju glagoljivost pred drugima,
osobito pred onima do kojih joj je
stalo, što je opet povlačilo ono njeno i
napuklo “hm”. Iza tog tobožnjeg
samopouzdanja i vanjskog mira, u stvari,
krio se njen lukavi oprez i nesigurnost.231
Sead Mahmutefendić
Uz sav onaj ceremonijal oko onog “hm”,
nije se moglo dogoditi da svaku svoju
pažljivo probranu riječ ne proprati
melankoličnim, sanjivim, mačijim
osmjehom.
Drugog sječnja, odmah nakon
doručka, Daut je svečanog rumenila na
licu i falset glasom saopćio prisutnoj
Vandi i Dragi da je za devetnaesti ovog
mjeseca zakazano vjenčanje.
- Čije? upita Vanda preko
zalogaja.
- E, to sami pogađajte - reče
Daut sav ozaren.
Mada je ovakva njena reakcija u
njemu izazvala dojam da je u pitanju
njen nedvosmisleni prijekor, ona je
morala kod njega dodirnuti njegovu vez
232
Suze Dauta Arfadžana izgrađenu podozrivost i sumnjičavost
prema njoj. On učini gest kao da je
prečuo ili nije razumio krajnji smisao,
te joj, djelujući naivno i prostodušno,
odgovori u istom tonu, oprezno
izbjegavajući da ne izgovori kakvu
pretešku riječ ponajviše zbog Milene,
ali i zbog nje same da je ne povrijedi,
tražeći neki prikladan eufemizam: “Ne bi
se reklo da smo izabrali pravo vrijeme,
zar ne? Ipak, vjenčanje će biti za
sedamnaest dana.”
Daut Arfadžan se nadao da će čuti
od prijatelja koju lijepu riječ, onako
kako što je razmišljao kad im tu vrijest
saopći, ali ne bješe udostojen tog
zadovoljstva da čuje ono što je
očekivao. To je s rezignacijom upravo
sad ustanovio. Od Vande se nadao da će233
Sead Mahmutefendić
bar odlumiti tobožnju oduševljenost. S
pravom se nadao tom njenom triku koji je
uvijek ličio na onaj kao kad čovjek
neiskreno, pod nekom prisilom, hinji
očaranost glazbom dok pri tom osjeća
strahovitu dosadu i prazninu, te sve to
nastoji prikriti sanjivom i glupom
zanesenošću. U vezi s tim, sjeti se kad
je otkrio tu njenu obmanu odlučio je da
prekine s njom i posveti se pisanju kako
bi što dalje izmakao patnji i bijesu što
su ga sa svih strana spopadali. I sad,
kad ga taj detalj podsjeti na taj davno
minuli doživljaj, on pocrveni u licu kao
što je crvenio i onda kad je s bolom,
mukom i očajem sumnjao i napokon saznao
za Vandinu nevjernost. On je bio takva
vrsta čovjeka da se najčešće sam osjećao
234
Suze Dauta Arfadžana nelagodno za ono ružno, sramotno i lažno
što drugi oko njega njemu ili nekom
drugom čine. najviše od toga dirala ga
je i boljela ravnodušnost s kojom su to
oni radili, osionost u kojoj on nije
vidio zlobu, jer je ljude gledao samo s
one dobre strane, kao zabludjele,
zavedene, naivne, te je za nih uvijek
mogao iznaći poneku i lijepu riječ,
ispriku, opravdavajući to društvenim
zakonitostima kojima jalov i mizeran
čovjekov duh i priroda malo kad mogu
dorasti. Nije u pitanju - razmišljao je
on - nečista savjest koliko nepostojanje
njuha da se priroda i duša čovjekova
usklade s onim što mu život može pružiti
i udovoljiti. Čovjek će sebi sve
osigurati osim sreće i ljepote za kojom
on najviše vapi i traga. A i kad ga ona235
Sead Mahmutefendić
opahnu - kao pahuljice na uzavrelom licu
ili tračak sunca po prozeblom tijelu - u
njima njegova duša toliko zatitra da ga
naprosto isprepada i navodi na pomisao
da je sam i nesretan. Sreća je... Šta
je, napokon sreća? Biti ne-poročan? Biti
vješt? Biti miran i spokojan? Za nekog
je sre-ća ne biti srećan.
Ni Vanda, neosporno, nije bila bez
svojih draži. Dautu nije bilo ni dan-
danas jasno u što se on zaljubio prije
desetak godina - u njenu kosu i zelene
oči, kojih se uvijek pomalo bojao ili u
njenu lepršavu i nonšalantnu samouvje-
renost s kojom je govorila o velikim
stvarima kao što su bi-le umjetnost i
medicina. Sve je to - onda kod nje bilo
otmjeno i odmjereno da je na svakog
236
Suze Dauta Arfadžana morala ostaviti dojam zbog svog znanja i
vještine.
Svakako je gotovo suvišno reći da
će se dva i pol tjedna nakon tog dana
pred zgradom Općine pojaviti uparađeni
Daut i Milena sa svatovima koji nisu
bili u velikom broju. Mlada bješe skoro
mela bijelom vjenčanicom pokockanu
cestu, pa ju je zbog toga morala svaki
čas s dva prsta malo podi-zati. Na glavi
je imala bijeli šešir s velikim obodom
na koji je utaknula umjetni crveni krin,
preko lica bješe prebacila bijeli veo.
Na rukama bijele rukavice u kojima je
stiskala izheklani bijeli cvijet.
On je bio nešto manje napadan.
Odijelo na pruge od crnog tvida, te
kratka široka mašna s velikim čvorom
237
Sead Mahmutefendić
koju je uz košulju pridržavala zlatna
igla. To su mu je Drago i Vanda kupili
za vjenčani poklon.
Samo što se pojaviše na izlazu iz
zgrade, dočeka ih graja djece, kojima
oni, isti čas, baciše pregršt šarenih
bombona.
Odmah iza mladenaca bili su Vanda i
Drago.
Na ulici su ih čekala dvoje
upaljenih fića. Na obje haube bilo je
selotejpom priljepljeno umjetno
plastično cvijeće i po jedna grančica
bora. Razveza odnekud harmonika, a na
mladence bacite silu papirića.
Prozori se iskitili glavama. Žene
drže manju djecu u naručju ili po
238
Suze Dauta Arfadžana isturenim bokovima. Neke od njih brišu
rukom suze. “Ee, pusta mladost!”
- Ko je mlada?
- Ona tanka što sad ulazi u kola.
- Odakle je?
- Kažu da je iz Dalmacije.
- Hajde, neka je, Maksuz selam1
- Odakle je ona apotekarica,
boriju ti majku?
- Koja?
- Suzana Hejvort.
- Misliš na Vandu?
- Vidi je, ko iz filma “Zvijezde
su daleko”, boriju ti neću mater.
- Ona je kuma.
- Kuma, kume, kumi, kumu, oj
kumo, kumom o kumi.
1 239
Sead Mahmutefendić
- To ti zato što je nekad bila od
sadašnjeg đuvegije?
- Ma kaki, to je danas moderno.
Balkanski je kad rade sjekire na sudu,
ti neću boga Savaota.
Tog poslijepodneva poštar donese
još nekoliko tele-grama. Jedan,
luksuzan, s fotografijom u boji muškarca
i žene u zagrljaju na ogradi balkona,
bio je jedan od Mile-ninih roditelja,
koje su Daut i Milena tek juče obavije-
stili preko telefona, pravdajući njihovo
izostavljanje sa svadbene svečanosti
razlozima, svakako neuvjerljivim za
starce, da oni žele da to bude
najskromnije, bez pompe i galame, po
mogućnosti, jedino, uz obavezno
prisustvo kumova.
240
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Nije bilo nikakve svečanosti.
Doduše, kumovi su nava-ljivali da se
poslje obavljenog ceremonijala izravno
upute kolima do mjesnog hotela na ručak,
što Arfadžanovi najodlu-čnije odbiše
izjavivši da bi to tek značilo uprskati
stvar koja se do tad izvanredno,
spontano i po planu odvijala. Oni
otkriše da je ručak već zgotovljen i
pripremljen u Dautovom stanu. Tamo će se
svi u domaćoj atmosferi nekonvencionalno
osjećati.
- Već se počeo rasipati kao pravi
muž - šapnu Vanda Dragi na uho.
Već sljedećeg jutra, koristeći iz
školskog statuta sedmodnevni dopust za
takve prilike, otputova Daut sa svojom
mladom suprugom u Supetar na Braču gdje
241
Sead Mahmutefendić
su Milenini rodite-lji posjedovali
veliku dvokatnu kuću od kamena.
Očito je bilo da Daut bješe veseo
zato što je vjenčanje brzo i skromno
obavljeno i što je izmakao od svatova na
more. Ono uparađivanje i uniformisanje
svakako ne bješe nje-gova ideja. Sat
vremena prije vjenčanja imao je on u
svom stanu žestoku svađu s Milenom, koja
se energično i kate-gorički suprostavila
kad je vidjela da je on kreno u farmer-
kama i džemperu u Općinu.
- Ako hoćeš, budi cigan cijeli
život, ali se moraš sad obući onako kako
ja to želim - reče ona odlučno. - Ne
poslušaš li me, od vjenčanja nema ništa!
Iako je to rekla glasno i bijesno,
ipak je on osjetio da se ona pribojava
242
Suze Dauta Arfadžana da je on ne posluša. Taj njen pokušaj
glume ga toliko ganu da on isti čas, bez
otpora, svuče ono što je imao na sebi,
opra se, te uze ono što mu ona još sinoć
biješe povješala na vješalicu u ormar.
U noćnom vozu uhvati ga
neraspoloženje. Sva sreća što su
supružnici bili u spravaćim kolima, pa
su vjerovatno pretpostavljali da ih niko
ne može čuti. A nije ih bilo, osobito,
ni briga, jer se baš nisu trudili da
snize glas.
Padoše teške i ružne riječi. Prvi
put se spomenu i rastava. Milena
zaplaka. Odnekle iskopa cigaretu i
zapali. Pope se uz ljestve na gornji
krevet. Cijela ova situacija izazva
nervoznu patnju kod oboje njih. On
243
Sead Mahmutefendić
prizna da je nervozan zbog toga što od
jutros nije stavio u kljun ništa osim
kriške hljeba namazane margarinom.
Usljed patnje ili uzbuđenosti, želudac
mu se sav stegnuo. U takvim prilikama
glavobolja ga je obavezno mučila.
Na gornjem krevetu Milena je dimila
i mislila: Što je onoj kozi, mojoj
rodici, da se onoliko narolja te da grli
i ljubi mog muža, a onda da cmizdri na
njenom ramenu? Uz to, već četvrti dan
kako joj izostaje menstruacija. Zar sad,
kad ozbiljno misli doći u Dautovu školu
predavati engleski jezik? Ako joj
otkriju da je u drugom stanju, može se
pozdraviti s poslom. A nakon što rodi,
već će pola Jugosla-vije diplomirati.
244
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Još neko vrijeme, oboje ih je nosio
neki val nervozne ustreptalosti. Kratko
i jednostavno, kao da ispituje đaka za
ocjenu, upita on nakon duže šutnje svoju
suprugu dovodeći sebe u komičnu
situaciju: “Ako ne prestaneš, izaći ću
na prvoj stanici i vratiti se kući”.
Sjedeći pogurena na gornjem ležaju,
pazeći da glavnom ne udari o strop
vagona, Milena na jednom zabi šaku u
gaće. Odandje izvadi smotuljak
neokrvavljene vate, koju mu poturi pod
nos: “Gledaj ovo, seronjo! Da ovdje ima
samo i jedna kap, s radošću bi ti
otvorila vagonska vrata i još bi ti
usput mahnula rukom za sretan put. Idi
ako misliš da sam te prešla. Jebi se i
ti i tvoje silaženje na prvoj stanici”.
245
Sead Mahmutefendić
Daut je tupo zurio u vatu i nije
znao kako to protu-mačiti. Njegov nos
uhvati vonj vagine. Podiže obrve i
isfrflja: “Na putu je?”
- Hm! - nasmija se ona prezirno.
- Što ti misliš po-vodom te
problematike?
Otkad znam za sebe, oduvijek je u
njemu fiziologija ljudskog tijela
izazivala nelagodnu ustreptalost duha
pomi-ješanu s tjelesnom klonulošću i
apatijom. Protiv takvih osjećaja s
prezirom se bunio nalazeći im razloge u
mutnim i neugodnim sjećanjima na
izvjesne monologe njegovog oca u vezi s
čovjekovim tijelom. Jednom ga je, ne
htijući, uhvatio golog u hodniku stana.
Pomislio je da je neko ušao na ulazna
246
Suze Dauta Arfadžana vrata. Pošao je da vidi ko je to. Otac
nije znao da je on u stanu, pa se
slobodno, gologuz, šetao po sobama.
Našavši se oči u oči sa Dautom, on je
kao neko stidljivo žensko prekrio rukama
genitalije pred uperenim sinovljevim
pogledom, a po-tom se u trku okrenuo i
pobijegao u kupatilo. Koliko mu je tad
bila odvratna, tužna i smiješna ta
scena, toliko je on, s ne malom
potištenošću, zaključio da bi on to isto
uradio kad bi se našao u sličnoj
situaciji. I sama ta okolnost, što nije
ravnodušno doživljavao bilo kakvu
promjenu na svom tijelu ili u njemu, on
je uzimao kao prokleti genetski dar svog
oca s čijom se derviškom psihologijom
bez uspijeha nosi u posljednje dvije
knjige pjesama, koje još u rukopisu247
Sead Mahmutefendić
čekaju da se neko smiluje i da ih
pročita. Nikako odgonetnuti zagonetnog
oca kojeg on s prezirom i
nipodaštavanjem prema krvi što kola u
njemu istrajava u sebi. Zato on i ovaj
put, poput lake drhtavice, osjeti
najprije ustreptalost, a potom i
klonulost kad ču za tu vijest.
Mješavina ovih dvaju osjećanja,
koja bi ga obično dovodila do umora i
potištenosti, izazivala je u njemu
poznato raspoloženje, te nije bio
rijedak slučaj da uhvati sebe kako drhti
od omamljenosti i uzbuđenja što mu se
obično dešavalo nakon takvih razgovora.
Milena se spusti s gornjeg ležaja i
sjede kraj njega. Oboje su neko vrijeme
kroz prozor posmatrali jezero u daljini
248
Suze Dauta Arfadžana predijela iznad kojeg su se na okolnim
uzvišicama izdizale smrekove šume.
Uskoro i ta slika promače.
Dautova želja da se lijepo misli o
njemu kao dobrom i osjećajnom čovjeku
nije mogla nadvladati njegovu
ošamućenost tom nepredviđenom viješću.
Svoju zbunjenost izražavao je šutnjom i
oborenim očima. Ništa mu nije pomagalo
ni to što je nekoliko puta za to vrijeme
pokušavao sebi nabaciti ideju i uvjeriti
se u nju da je to njegovo dijete. Glasno
izraziti sumnju u to, nije se, naprosto,
usudio, jer za tako nešto nije imao
jasnih dokaza, već su ga na to
podsticale samo neke mutne indicije.
Taj laki paralitik u lijevu nogu do
ispod koljena, koji se gegao sjetnom
humornošću klauna i ležernošću kauboja,249
Sead Mahmutefendić
do suza je bio dirnut Mileninom laži.
Zbog nje se on nikad ne bi iskrcao na
prvoj stanici.
Njegove oči zaista se napuniše
suzama i on najednom zaplaka. Osjetivši
se postiđenim zbog toga, on zakrenu
glavu u stranu i ovlaš joj stavi prst na
usne dajući joj time do znanja da je
moli da šuti.
Međutim, Milena mu bijesno otkloni
prst sa svojih usana, te sva drhteći u
glasu, upita uvrijeđeno: “Kako bi
gospodin Arfadžan protumačio tu svoju
šutnju? Ili se usro u gaće ili je
zanijemio od sreće, a! Hm”.
- Šta mu fali reći u što sumnja?
Reći ću joj: “Našla si mene za magare?
Drugi će dolmiti a ja ću hraniti?” 250
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
On odgovori: “Ne znam Milena...
stvarno ne znam kako bi se to valjalo
ponašati”.
Ponovo se prepusti ranijim
razmišljanjima. Od sveg srca poželi ih
izreći naglas. Odlučnost je dobra za
takve prilike. Možda će je zaboljeti kao
kad se vadi zub, ali je bolje i to
učiniti nego cijeli život trpiti
tinjajuću zubobolju i čekati na gangrenu
jednog lijepog dana. Koliko mu se dopala
takva alegorija za njegovo trenutno
stanje, isto toliko nije imao hrabrosti
glasno izgovoriti ono što ga je tištalo.
- Znaš, Milena, kad čovjek ima
pokvaren zub najbolje ga je izvaditi -
reče on. - Ako ga na vrijeme ne popraviš
ili ne izvadiš, postoji velika
251
Sead Mahmutefendić
vjerovatnoća da zub zahvati granulom.
Znam da je teško podnositi bol kad se
zub čupa, ali je i to daleko bolje nego
cijeli život trpjeti zubobolju.
- Odakle ti sad takva ideja? -
upita ga ona.
On joj se ispriča da mora otići
do zahoda.
Žurio je hodnikom. Kad rezu na
vratima spusti na zasun, pogleda se u
ogledalo. Umornim i promuklim glasom
reče: “Zdravo magarče! Drugi faširaju i
dolme, a ti hrani i tegli i u jarmu
skapaj. Meni ju je podmetnula kompanija
Drago & Vanda. Mene su odabrali za
uzorak. Čekam da se voz zaustavi.
Milena, skloni te šugave ruke s mene,
čuješ šta ti kažem. Samo me probaj 252
Suze Dauta Arfadžana taknuti, prebiću ti sve te idijotske
prste. Kurvetino anđeoskog lica. Marš!
Ja sam, bre, pesnik za tebe. Ti ćeš
pesnika nasamariti, pizduljo pizdasta.
Ti nisi žena, nisi ni čovjek. Ti si
dlakava pica na dvije noge. To je tvoj
zaštitni znak. Da me nisi dodirnula!”
Pomjeri se kvaka na vratima. Neko
je pokušao ući. Daut stade na papučicu
pored zahodske školjke, hinjeći da
tobože s nuždom završava. Osjeti umor i
stid, a onda primijeti da je prilično
zbunjen. Nepoznati pred vratima možda ga
je mogao čuti kad je sam sa sobom
razgovarao.
Otvori vrata. Ne pogledavši ko bi
mogao biti, ode prema svom kupeu.
253
Sead Mahmutefendić
Dočeka ga Milenin pogled. Još je
sjedila na donjem ležaju pogleda uprtog
ravno u njega. Nije znao s kim bi je
usporedio: ili s kadijom ili s dželatom?
Svejedno, oboje su mu bili neugodni.
Da bi izbjegao njena daljnja
suvišna i neugodna ispitivanja, koja su
se vrtila oko toga da joj razjasni svoje
čudno ponašanje kad je čuo da je ostala
u drugom stanju, on uloži priličan napor
da se nasmiješi prema njoj i da joj
rekne neiskreno, hladno i neuvjerljivo:
“Milenče, vjerovatno sam maloprije
zanijemio od sreće. Ne bi Bog razumio
čovjekovu psihologiju”.
Šta bi ti sad htijela? - mislio
je on u sebi, nasto-jeći dobiti u
vremenu i otkloniti njene sumnje. Da
254
Suze Dauta Arfadžana skačem do ovog plafona od sreće? Nije
lako strpati u ovu glavu da si ti
napravio novi život.
- Ti se teško zagrijavaš, a teško
se i hladiš - pri-mjeti ona s ironijom,
očito misleći na njegovu laku za-
paljivost nakon što ju je prvi put vidio
u svom stanu. - Ipak, i pored svega,
milo mi je što sam to čula od tebe.
- Šta si ti čula od mene? - isti
čas je upita Daut.
- Eto to, da si vjerovatno
zanijemio od sreće. - odgovori ona
hladno.
Njene riječi uopće ga ne dirnuše. U
njegovom plutajućem pogledu mogla se
pročitati rasijanost. Danas je dvadeseti
januar, a oni su imali prvi intimni
255
Sead Mahmutefendić
odnos na katolički Božić. Znači da je
prošlo dvadeset šes dana od tada.
Izbjegavao je to reći plašeći se da joj
ne učini nepravdu. Tako nešto smatrao je
nedostojnim sebe. Međutim, s druge
strane, držao je za dužnost da tu svoju
sumnjičavost provjeri s kompetentnim
činjenicama.
- Milena, ti vjeruješ u Boga? -
upita je on.
- Čemu takvo morsko pitanje? -
začudi se ona.
- Tako... pitam - reče on.
- Naravno da vjerujem - reče ona.
- To sam ti, mislim, već dala ranije do
znanja.
U glasu joj se osjećala nervozna
spremnost da brani svoje ubjeđenje.
256
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Da ti možda ne smeta?
- Ne, ni najmanje. Zašto bi? -
upita on.
- Hvala Bogu - reče ona.
- Nego me zanima piše li negdje u
Svetom pismu o patnji, strahu, šta je to
stid pred iskušenjem da čovjek učini
grijeh bez kojeg, izgleda, on ne može?
Je li misao o njima najlicimjernija
koketarija suvišnih i odbačenih, ružnih
i prezrenih, koje je centrifuga
ringišpila pobacala s podivljalih
stolica? Samo me oslobodi Matejinog
evanđelja.
- Ja slavim crkvene praznike,
idem svako toliko u crkvu na ispovjed -
reče Milena. - Fratar je oduvijek dola-
257
Sead Mahmutefendić
zio kod nas u kuću. Je li te to
zanimalo? To mi valjda nećeš zabraniti?
- Nisi me razumjela - reče Daut.
- Što se tiče mene, možeš zaraditi
reumu klečeći na koljenima u crkvi.
Očito da me nisi razumjela.
- Kako bih te mogla razumijeti
kad svo vrijeme nešto za sebe frfljaš u
bradu - podiže ona glas.
- Ma nije to toliko ni važno -
sklopi on ruke.
- Pa kad nije važno, zašto onda
pitaš? - zabezeknu se ona.
- Tako - odgovori on. - Tak taak!
Zar to nije bolje nego šutiti kao
maloprije?
258
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Sigurno da je bolje. Ono je
bilo grozno. Pomislila sam već na ono
najgore - reče ona i zagrli ga.
8.
Čim je ušao u hodnih, što je kružio
duž cijelog prizemlja bolnice, Daut
ugleda gomilu pacijentkinja kako stoje
ili sijede na drvenim stolicama s
naslonom poredanim duž zida. Neke su
zabile glavu u modne magazine, druge su
rasejano buljile pred sobom ili zvjerale
pogledima od jedne do druge. Po zidovima
su bili izvješani prihodni plakati i
upozorenja o čuvanju zdravlja, po
stolićima mnoštvo brošura o
kontracepciji i njenoj primjeni,
planiranju obitelji, željenoj trudnoći s
259
Sead Mahmutefendić
obaveznim osmjesima buduće trbuljave
majke i presretnog oca, koji željno
isčekuju očekivano dijete. Tu je bilo po
nekoliko brojeva Zdravstvenog lista i Našeg
zdravlja.
Daut objasni dežurnoj sestri da je
ljekaru došao samo radi jedne
informacije koju bi želio saznati od
ginekologa, što joj je, samim tim,
diskretno stavljeno do znanja da ga kao
muškarca, koji ne treba pregled, pusti
preko reda. Ustalom, zašto bi se koja od
ovih žena pobunila kad bi njega vidjela
kako ulazi u doktorovu ordinaciju?
Sestra se malo zapilji u njega. Da
li da to uzme kao njegov trik ili da ga
žali što je bez supruge došao nešto
260
Suze Dauta Arfadžana provjeravati. Normalno je to da u takvim
stvarima može lako doći do nesporazuma.
Kad vidje da je čovjek
nezainteresovan za njenu radoznalost,
ona mu obeća da će to doktoru svakako
prenijeti.
Ne prođe ni deset minuta kad se
doktor lično pojavi na vratima i prstom
ga pozva da uđe. Ono što osjeti u
trenutku kad ođe hodnikom ka ordinaciji
bilo je daleko od ljubomore. Osjeti stid
i samosažaljenje prema svojoj umišljenoj
i nerealnoj sumnji, zatim mješavinu
odvratnosti prema sebi, uzajamne
povezanosti, te veličanstvenog osjećaja
sopstvene veličanstvene drame.
U svakom slučaju, on se našao na
pokretnoj tapaciranoj stolici podnoseći
261
Sead Mahmutefendić
ispitivački pogled doktora, koji ga je
posmatrao iz neposredne blizine ribljim
očima preko debelih sočiva sa širokim,
koštanim okvirima. U isti čas, kad to
vidje, osjeti neizmjernu tugu i
samosažaljenje, ali se ipak toliko sabra
da se nakašlja u stisnutu šaku, ispravi
na stolici i sklopljene dlanove zbunjeno
položi na doktorov stol.
9.
Početkom ljeta naišle su na
Milenu nove i još neugodnije nevolje.
Ljekari su joj bili naredili da mora
stalno ležati u postelji. U to vrijeme,
njoj je bilo suviše teško da nosi
nabrekli trbuh pošto bi pri svakom
koraku osjetila bol u predjelu karlice.
262
Suze Dauta Arfadžana Moralo se, isključivo, stalno ležati da
bi se izbjegao prerani porođaj.
Daut ju je zatekao u razgovoru s
majkom. Po njihovim pogledima kojim su
ga izbjegavale, znao je da mu zamjeraju
kašnjenje iz škole, jer zadnji čas bješe
završen još prije dva cijela sata.
Zato on dade svom licu smrknut i
umoran izraz kako bi ih obje obmanuo bez
suvišnog izjašnjavanja za koje on odavno
bješe izgubio svako strpljenje.
On već prilično bješe radio na svom
prvom romanu. Ni sam, u početku, nije
umio objasniti zašto se odlučio uhvatiti
u koštac s materijom koju nije dobro ni
pozavao niti ju je pošteno primio k
srcu, niti ju je razum, bogzna, kako
sebi razjasnio. Jednostavno, sjeo je na
263
Sead Mahmutefendić
drvenu stolicu s naslonom, stavio
predase list bijelog papira s crtama i
spustio vrh olovke na njegovu površinu.
Kad ga je podigao, na tom mjestu ostala
je tačka. Posmatrao je Daut tačku i
mislio: kako i s čime krenuti odavdje?
Učini mu se da sve ono što je proživio
nije vrijedno spomena a kamoli tuđe
pažnje, pa je, zbunjen ovim neugodnim
zaključkom, počeo črčkati i činiti
kojekakve crte - uspravne i vodoravne -
živo razmišljajući o čemu on to,
zapravo, treba da piše. Nekakav zapis
valja ostaviti na papiru te donekle
primiriti ustreptalost duše koja ga je
znala do zlovolje mučiti. Mora se on
ponovo vratiti svom peru, papiru i -
konačno - duši svojoj.
264
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Posjedio je on dobrih po sata i bio
sve zlovoljniji i razdražljiviji. Do tad
bješe napisao samo jednu rečenicu. Ništa
naročito što bi ga moglo zadovoljiti i
primiriti nije mu padalo na pamet, te je
- po koznakoji put - isčitavao onu
prostoproširenu rečenicu. Svaki čas je
mijenjao poredak riječi tražeći za nju
ritam i muzikalnost.
Sinoć sam je opet sanjao i shvatio da je Lea moj
život.
Od te jedne rečenice na kraju je
načinio dvije: Sinoć sam je opet sanjao. Shvatio
sam da je Lea moj život.
U gruboj skici, bez jasnog plana o
čemu će dalje pisati, Lea je trebala
predstavljati njegovu Milenu, koju on
više doživljava kao literaturu, a manje
265
Sead Mahmutefendić
kao svoju ženu. Kada će se on pojaviti i
odakle? Otkuda će on doći? On mora biti
taj fatalni udvarač koji će je skroz-
naskroz izmijeniti. Takođe i njen život.
To će biti ljubavna priča koja će
potresti milijone čitalac. Ona bi ga
morala konačno izvesti iz anonimnosti.
Tu će titrati zvijezde, hrzati goli
konji, izbacivati paru iz nozdrva,
livadama u praskozorje vući će se magla,
čuće se i topot kopita. S okolnih vrbika
dizat će se magla, iza njih će se čuti
lomljenje potoka, dvoje ljubavnika kao
dvoje duhova.
Strasno i iskreno poželi Daut
pobjeći iz ovog ubogog mjesta, ali
osjeća i dobro zna da to za sad nije
266
Suze Dauta Arfadžana moguće. Skoro će na svijet i njegovo
dijete.
Istog trenutka, kad shvati da mu
još zadugo nema nikud izlaza i da je
obruč skoro sklopljen oko njega, okrenu
se od rukopisa prema razvučenom kauču na
kome je ležala Milena i čitala neki
ženski magazin. Ona ga pogleda i razvuče
usne u poluosmijeh.
- Pišeš? - upita ona.
- Serem. - odgovori on.
Nikad on nije uspio dokučiti da li
mu to ona gospodckim manirom upućuje
prijekor na protraćeno vrijeme ili to
biješe najobičnije pitanje koje ništa
nije iza sebe krilo do korektne
ravnodušnosti. Bio je uvjeren da je od
prvog trenutka, kad je saznala za tu
267
Sead Mahmutefendić
njegovu strast, njegov hobi - kako je to
imala običaj reći - te je taj rad držala
za sizifovsku i jalovu rabotu. A da
stvar bude još pogubnija za njega, ona
je voljela čitati mnogo, i to mnogo više
nego što je i sam imao strpljenja da to
čini. Sve je čitala što joj je dolazilo
do ruku i očiju: ljubiće, Jursenarove
Hadrijanove memoare, feljtone i novele po
novinama, Staljina, Bibliju, Kur’an, sve
- samo nijedan da pročita njegov redak.
Zato se potrudi da i ovaj put njen
podsmijeh odgonetne kao porugu ili
najobičniju kurtoaziju. Da bi izbjegao
neugodne posljedice, što bi vjerovatno
bile izazvane njegovom lakomislenom
povrijeđenošću ako bi ona kojim slučajem
nešto neoprezno i iskreno primijetila,
268
Suze Dauta Arfadžana on zadrža na njoj neko vrijeme svoj
neodređeni i šeretski osmijeh.
To je njoj bilo sasvim dovoljno da
s rezignacijom ustanovi kako je
djetinjast i damu je još uvijek stalo do
njenog povoljnog suda o onom što on
piše. Međutim, po njenom raspoloženju,
on ubrzo sa žalošću primjeti da je i
ovaj put nadmudren.
Punica bješe zabavljena heklanjem.
Jedina stvar u kojoj je došao do
kakve-takve predo-strožnosti, bila je
njegova osvetoljubiva odluka - prije
svega kao posljedica povređenog ponosa -
da ni po koju cijenu nikad nikom ne
pročita ni jedan jedini redak. Doduše,
niko se zbog toga nije posebno ni
uzbuđivao, niti je koga od toga
269
Sead Mahmutefendić
zaboljela glava, a niti je iko pokazivao
neke posebne znake patnje. Ako neko baš
bude inzistirao na tome, mislio je sav
očajan u mraku, glatko i bez objašnjenja
će ga odbiti. Jedino mu nije bilo jasno
da li da bude ekscentrik kao što je Dali
i da sve šalje k vragu, ili da bude
bezimen i da samo njegova djela govore
umjesto njega. Tad će zapaliti javnost,
a on će ovdje činovnički učiti djecu
čitanju i pisanju. Neka me samo Milena
tad upita: “Dautiću, mogu li pročitati
šta si danas napisao?”, ja ću joj s pika
odbrusiti: “Ne!” Kad dobijem AVNOJ-a,
Njegoša, Andrića ili NIN, poslat ćuim
pismo u kojem žalim da ne mogu primiti
nagradu, jer je nagrada ruganje s
čovjekovom mukom. Ili - Ne! Zahvalit ću
270
Suze Dauta Arfadžana im na nagradi i objasnit ću im da sam u
principu protiv nje, te zbog toga ne
mogu da je primim. Sutradan će biti:
“Mama, čitaš li ti u novinama kakvu je
moj Dautić digao prašinu u
jugoslavenskoj javnosti?”
- Morala si znati za koga se
udaješ.
- Dautiću, čuješ li ti ovo?
Ponosna sam na tebe.
- Ne seri u trenutku kad voz
stoji.
Znala je Milena za to, te je jednog
dana najozbiljnije naredila sebi da bude
ozbiljna kad se bude poveo razgovor o
tome. Zamolila ga je da joj u što kraćim
crtama izloži o čemu on to piše.
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Sead Mahmutefendić
Sav ozaren i uzbuđen, potpuno
zaboravivši na zadatu riječ, uze on s
police rukopise da joj pročita zadnju
priču, ali ga ona u tom njegovom
prostodušnom pokušaju energično
zaustavi: “Ne, ne, ne, za mila boga!
Samo sam ti rekla da mi ispričaš”.
- Ne mogu ja to onako kako sam
napisao... mislim, stilizirao - reče on
sav ustreptao.
- Ne, ne, sunce moje. Hm! Rekla
sam ti da mi ukratko ispričaš.
On s očajem osjeti kako mu se jed,
gorčina i jad kupe u njemu. Dozvolio je,
kretenski je dopustio da istrči iz svoje
ljušture.
Ona se mačiji prema njemu smiješila
zbog onog što je uspjela prirediti. I 272
Suze Dauta Arfadžana punica je digla pogled s heklanja i
otvoreno se cerila preko naočala.
Mržnja je počela u Dautu zreliti.
Još nije znao da je to ona, ili je
izbjegavao da to prizna i da se suoči s
njom. Bojao se priznati da njom biva
opsjednut i da ga ona sve više
zaokuplja. Je li on njom već ozbiljno
zaražen? Bilo mu je sasvim jasno da više
ne može biti onaj što je nekad bio.
Moraće se naviknuti da je time dosta
izgubio, ali će isto-vremeno pokušati da
zbog toga ne prestane osjećati gordost
gubitnika. Sve osim da prizna vlastitu
zabludu.
Bio je - to je Milena morala od
nekog ču+ti - lakrdijaš kojem nije bilo
ravna. On je suze ljudima tjerao na oči.
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Sead Mahmutefendić
Zbog njega su se hvatali za stomake i
oni najozbiljniji, vapeći često za
vazduhom. Svemu se on rugao oko sebe,
ismijavao na jednostavan način time što
je stavljao sebe kao glavnu ličnost. A
ljudi su se previjali od smijeha, već
samim tim koga bi u tim njegovim
parodijama prepoznali. Uglavnom, svi bi
bili omamljeni od radosnog uzbuđenja što
u ovoj betinji imaju pred sobom čovjeka
koji ih zna uveseliti, razgaliti ih i
otjerati im čamotinju iz njihovih duša.
Morala je to znati Milena, jer je i ona
bila omađijana njegovom veselom
prirodom, te je osjetila da joj taj
čovjek raspiruje emocije.
U sadašnjim prilikama mu je na tom
zamjerala, samo što je bila toliko
274
Suze Dauta Arfadžana trezvena i razumna da to nije htjela
priznati, jer je i sama uviđala
neumjerenost i neopravdanost tih svojih
prijekora.
Dakle, pomišljala je ona često da
on vedrinu treba namijeniti samo svojoj
supruzi i da se mane bjelosvjetskih
protuha. Osmijeh neće usrećiti i
obogatiti uboge i učmale duše.
- Da si ga tražila, ne bi goreg
našla - vikao je na nju razgoropađeni
otac.
- Mila, još jednom dobro izvagaj
varljivo srce i ono što ti otac kaže -
govorila joj je mati.
- Ali mama, pa mi smo već
vjenčani - rekla je Milena sva očajna. -
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Sead Mahmutefendić
Kako mi možete tako nešto predlagati!
Jeste li vi toga svjesni?
- Na hiljade ih se razvede pa šta
im fali? Žive ljudskije i snošljivije
nego većina onih koji su, tobože, ostali
u braku. Pih, da sam samo koju godinu
mlađa a ova mi pamet!
- Ali, ja sam, mama, noseća! -
Pokušavala ju je Milena iznenaditi.
- Pa šta? - spremno odgovori
mati. - Ni prva ni posljednja. U
Švedskoj to sve odreda rade. Šta će ženi
muž? Samo da joj jad donese. I to još
ovakav. Gdje njega spazi, nesretne ti
oči.
- Dobro, Milenice - pokušavao je
otac samog sebe sagledati. - Reci mi
slobodno da sam malograđanin, 276
Suze Dauta Arfadžana konzervativac... govnar, starkelja s
predrasudama, neka - reci mi, nema
veze, samo ja tebe pitam jednu stvar:
Šta si ti to imala vidjeti na tom tipu?
- Hm - poče Milena - ja ne gledam
šta je na nekom, već šta je u nekom.
- Ne izvrdavaj moje riječi -
ljutnu se otac. Mogu i ja lako
uključiti se u filozofiju, to bar nije
težak i žuljav posao. Ti dobro znaš na
šta ja mislim. Pitam te šta si ti to
vidjela u njemu?
- Šta sam vidjela? - upita ona s
nekim prostodušnim čuđenjem. Hm, vidjela
sam pjesmu i smijeh.
- Kad si ti takva, osjetit ćeš
ti, kćerce, bogme samo bol. Kunem ti se
čašću i iskustvom, dabogda ja
277
Sead Mahmutefendić
pogriješio, od spretnih udvarača nikad
nije bilo dobra i poštena muža, zapamti
to.
- Mila - umješa se mati - ne
prigovaram što je faličan...
- ...nego mi je nekako grub i
kruto govori - nervozno Milena upade
materi u riječ.
- Baš sam to mislila reći - reče
joj mati. - A ti se šprdaj s ocem i
majkom. Ne može tebi niko bolji
prijatelj od oca i majke, ne, ne. To
izbi iz svoje glave. A takvih kao što je
tvoj muž, valja se dobro čuvati.
- Nekom je Bog nešto uzeo a nekom
oduzeo - aludirala je Milena skoro na
ivici histerije.
278
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Nije slučajno u narodu rečeno
da se valja čuvati obilježenih - zategnu
majka konopac do kraja.
- Znate šta - pokuša Milena
prekinuti njihovo sve otvorenije
prebacivanje - taj momak ima motor
ringišpila u glavi. Kad ga on upali, ima
da ti se vrti kao da si na brodu kojeg
okreće orkan od devet bofora.
- Mi ozbiljno s tobom, a ti se s
nama zafrkaješ - ljutio se otac.
- Ja vama ozbiljno odgovaram, a
vi bi se od dosade zezali sa mnom i sa
mojim suprugom - dreknu Milena. - Vi
niste u stanju shvatiti kako se
bogatstvo krije u takvim ljudima. Šta bi
vi htijeli - da se udam zanekog pedera s
naočalima, koji redovno onaniše u zahodu
279
Sead Mahmutefendić
bojeći se da prijevremena ne svrhi u
svoju ženu, koji ima cijelu bibli-oteku
što dinarskih što deviznih knjižica, što
će imati kravatu i čarape u istoj boji,
što će me cijelu godinu do besvijesti
varati po nekim jeftinim motelskim
sobama, na sat dva, sa nekim fufama i
vrtiguzicama, a za Dan žena će mi
donositi najskuplje bukete ruža umotane
u providni celofan. O, Bože! Bili to
htijela da mi čini moj suprug kao što je
to tebi činio tvoj? Hm! Čovjeka baš
prisilite da sve prolita iz sebe.
- Milena, pazi kako se pred ocem
izražavaš! - upozori je mati.
- Što on nije pazio kako se
ponaša pred mojom majkom - odbrusi
Milena.
280
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Mati briznu u plač. Pa istom otrča
u sobu da se smiri. Sva sreća što Daut
bješe izišao u šetnju.
- Poturaš mi pod nos ogledalo i
porediš me s kojekakvim ćopavim
vucibatinama! - razbjesni se otac.
- A vi treba da znate da ja u
sebi nosim njegovo dijete i neću da
čujem da se govori protiv moga muža -
stavi Milena čep na svaki daljnji
razgovor.
- Eto ti ga pa budi sretna s njim
koliko hoćeš - diže otac ruke i odmahnu
prstima kao da je tjera od sebe.
Ona primijeti da on, sav očajan,
iziđe iz sobe za dnevni boravak, što je
bio znak da je shvatio njen udarac, te
da je pomiren sa sudbinom da mu se kćer
281
Sead Mahmutefendić
zaista udala za tamo nekog... ni prezime
mu još ne zna čestito izgovoriti. Neće
ga nikad on ni prevaliti preko usta.
- Bože blagi, pa imaj djecu!
Najsretniji su jalovi - uzdahnu punica.
10.
Kako su nepouzdane patetika, zanos
i sreća zbog plitkosti mozga i
neopreznosti srca.
Milena imaše utisak da Daut nije
davao neki poseban značaj onom incidentu
što ga je imala s roditeljima, i to sve
zbog njega. Nije ona htijela praviti
heroja pred njim ali je on tako izgleda
shvatio i tako tumačio tu njenu
prenemagajuću priču o svojoj žrtvi.
282
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Čuvaj se obilježenih!
Kad bi god osjetila i primjetila
neku njegovu nepažlji-vost ili
ravnodušnost prema njoj, koliko je god
mogla, susprezala je sebe da mu to ne
prebaci. U vrijeme medenog mjeseca njoj
su se, na tako nešto, oči punile suzama,
a njegove riječi su je boljele i
vrijeđale pogađajući je izravno u srce.
Tada je jedinu utjehu tražila u
prebiranju bakine krunice, moleći se
Svevišnjem da joj dadne snage da s
uspjehom održi trudnoću do kraja.
283
Sead Mahmutefendić
Daut joj je sve manje odobravao
tako nešto, pa ju je jednom nazvao
nepravednom, jer ona svoje probleme može
jedino riješiti s njim, a nikako s
Bogom, pošto je problem do njega a ne do
onog koji je dalek i ravnodušan. Tu se
on htio pozvati na povijest, na što je
ona hladno odmahnula rukom u znak da bar
šuti kad neke stvari nije u stanju
shvatiti.
On joj je sa strane posmatrao
profil, te njena sklopljena žablja usta.
Izraz njen bio mu je dalek, pun hladne
tuge, neprijazan i podrugljiv. Ako ga je
išta moglo smetati u takvim prilikama,
bili su to njeni izljevi ljutnje i plača
u kojima joj se obavezno gubio glas do
promuklosti, što njoj ni najmanje nije
284
Suze Dauta Arfadžana smetalo da i dalje priča najgroznije
gluposti koje je za sebe govorio da su
samo priviđenja i ništa više. Ali,
najzanimljivije u svemu ovom bila je
činjenica što se on, nakon njene
obavezne ture plača, osjećao ugodno u
njenoj prisutnosti da se morao
poprilično potruditi kako ne bi nad tom
grotesknom grimasom lica prasnuo u
smijeh, te je krajnjom snagom morao
obuzdavati uglove svojih usana i
zamišljati neke tragične ili morbidne
situacije iz svog života. To bi bilo
zaista neozbiljno; Uostalom, to bi bilo
u potpunoj suprotnosti s njegovim duhom
i naravi.
Prvih dana, ona je plakala,
zaklonjena maramicom, mada je njemu
285
Sead Mahmutefendić
izgledalo potpuno neshvatljivo koliko je
energije i revnosti u tom krhkom tijelu.
Znao je da će ta komedija biti okončana
za sat, najviše dva, da će biti
obostrano izmi-jenjena bujica glupih i
djetinjastih optužbi, da će on morati na
kraju popustiti - ta ona je u drugom
stanju, a ne on! - I obećati joj da će
se promijeniti, a ona mu, zauzvrat,
priznati da je ovako njeno ponašanje
vjerovatno zbog tog “glupog drugog
stanja”. “Biće da je to to” - odmah će
se Daut složiti s njom, znajući da već
sutradan ovo isto sve valja ponoviti
izpočetka. I tako će biti skoro svaki
dan.
Pri oproštaju, stisnuće oni jedno
drugom ruku. Dok bude sjedila, ona će mu
286
Suze Dauta Arfadžana mazno prisloniti glavu na trbuh, potom
će se dignuti i zagrliti ga. Na kraju je
poljubac, koji dolazi kao melem na
ustreptali, nervozni duh i tijelo umorno
od gluposti i djetinjarija. Krevet...
one stvari... smijeh, šale na svoj
račun, to je to glupo drugo stanje, i
tako dalje, šta da pričamo i meljemo kad
nam je sad lijepo.
Ista priča iz dana u dan, ista
scenografija, nešto drugačiji scenarij.
Limunada. Limuntoz.
Smirenu, zadovoljnu i znojavu
ostavljao bi je u postelji. Nakon što se
oprao od znoja i sjemena, odlazi on do
radnog stola gdje ga čekaju njegove
bilješke uredno raspoređene po
plastičnim fasciklama. Tu su radni
287
Sead Mahmutefendić
naslovi svih zamišljenih budućih knjiga.
Ima ih trenutno petnaest, što proze, što
poezije, što drama, što eseja. Tu su i
neke nabacane ideje za buduće filmske
scenarije.
On svečano sjeda na stolicu, prije
toga stavivši pernati jastuk ispod
zadnjice da mu bude mekše i polagano
skida kapicu s penkala. Potom, dugo
isčitava ispisane retke. Pola od toga
neće uopće razumjeti što je tim
rečenicama mislio izreći, jer su one
napisane u bunilu, negdje iza ponoći dok
je bio sam, užasno sam i nesretan, a on
je sad sretan, ima suprugu, uskoro će i
dijete imati. Odakle mu samo ovakve
užasne i morbidne misli? Osjećao se on
zbog toga čamotno. On pročita i jedan
288
Suze Dauta Arfadžana duhovit zaključak iz svog dnevnika da je
njemu dovoljna samo jedna rečenica,
možda i riječ, pa da mu tok razmišljanja
istog trena bude potpuno skrenut sa
zacrtane ideje.
Sinoć ju je opet sanjao. U pidžami
je prišao papiru i zapisao: Sinoć sam je
opet sanjao i shvatio - Lea je moj život!
Bio je zadovoljan ovakvim
poretkom riječi i interpunkcijom.
I jest moj život, pomisli on.
Bezsumnje da jest.
U njemu se javi volja za životom.
Ima lijepu i zgodnu ženu. Profesor je.
Uskoro će i dijete dobiti. Šta bi htio
više! Drugi nemaju ni to.
289
Sead Mahmutefendić
S respektom i nezdravim uzbuđenjem,
Daut je razmišljao o sebi, ali ga nimalo
ne iznenadi kad umjesto maloprijašnje
lagode ušulja se, najprije, sjeta, potom
gorak podsmjeh samom sebi, čamotinja i
na kraju onaj mu dobro poznat osjećaj
gađenja i samoprezira. To ga sasvim
rastrijezni. Pomisli: Jedino sam bio
čovjek kad sam volio. Prestao sam biti
čovjek. Ne znam hoću li ponovo to
postati. Moram, ako sam to ikad bio.
Moram, pa makar mislio da se sve urotilo
protiv mene: i ljudi, i priroda, i tašto
tijelo, i duša moja. Ako ne uspijem,
utoliko gore po mene. Jao onda meni!
Preostaće mi da bar ljudski uzdahnem ili
da vrisnem.
290
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Čemu će mi ta licemjerna, cinična i
jalova utjeha? Već je odavno iz mene
izčilio osjećaj krivice jer više ne znam
kad griješim. Idiotski sam se zaljubio u
sebe. To je ljubav na prvi pogled i iz
interesa. Kao skupljen talog, u meni je
čamotinja i nezadovoljstvo. Strah me je
i duša mi je gladna ljudske riječi.
Osjećam se krivim za tu glad. Ne mogu
mrdnuti a da ona ne ruje po meni. I kad
je suvišna, te mislim da sam čist, ona
je tu, tek toliko da me opomene. Muči
me, muči me. Odakle joj tolika moć da
vlada sa mnom? Jesam li je genima
naslijedio od predaka? Šta li su to oni
tako sramno uradili da i pokoljenja
moraju ispaštati njihovu krivicu? Pa i
kad se svega odreknem, ja je osjećam
poput dosadne bolesti. 291
Sead Mahmutefendić
Danas sam se osjetio krivim što
ranije nisam umro. Bolje bi bilo da se
nikad nisam ni rodio. Sad sam tu, ljudi
i vrijeme me zloupotrebljavaju. Dogodi
mi se da me ovakvog nesigurnog i
nespremnog najednom opahne odnekud
sreća; ostalo je, uglavnom, bol i
šutnja, čamotno iščekivanje i još
ponešto. Da li i u što vjerujem? Mislim
da se ipak nečemu nadam, jer šta bi me
toliko zadržavalo da napokon okončam.
Danas sam na papiru zapisao ideju za
jednu novelu. Bračni par živi skladno.
Počinju ženina sumnjičenja u njegovu
vjernost. Usput, njoj se čini da novac
nekud bestraga nestaje. Ne zna da ih
dijete potkrada. Njena sumnjičenja
pronalaze dokaze za svoju ljubomoru.
292
Suze Dauta Arfadžana Dakle, misli ona, sve je jasno - novac
ide na ljubavnicu. Happyenda nema.
Lakrdija završava tragično...
11.
Bio je to pravi događaj za mjesto u
koje je Daut stigao jednog rominjavog
oktobarskog poslijepodneva. Sredina je
mjeseca, oblaci bjehu nisko spušteni,
tako da su se doimali kao da ih je neko
porazapinjao od brda do brda, što je još
više izazivalo i pojačavalo tjeskobu i
opću čamotinju.
Odjednom se našao ispred čovjeka,
seljački i prosto odjevenog, naočita
izgleda te pažljivo izbrijana lica, koje
se rumenilo od svježeg vazduha i obilne
hrane. Očito bješe da je od nekog dobio
293
Sead Mahmutefendić
zadatak da sačeka novog profesora
latinskog jezika i da mu se nađe, u
prvoj prilici, na usluzi. Daut je
računao s ovakvom mogućnošću, pa ga
ispru-žena seljakova ruka nije osobito
iznenadila niti začudila. Samo što se
pozdraviše, Bogdan - kako seljaku bješe
ime - primijeti da je autobus prilično
kasnio i to vjerovatno zbog odrona
ceste, koji je nastao još prije dva dana
usljed obilnih kiša što su nemilice
padale zadnjih nekoliko dana.
Kada mu čovjek preuze prtljag iz
ruku i saopći mu da će ga odnijeti u
hotelsku sobu iznad mjesne kafane, Daut
isti čas zaželi poslati familiji
telegram u kojem, bi ih obavijestio o
svom namještenju na mjesto profesora u
294
Suze Dauta Arfadžana ovdašnjoj gimnaziji. Ujedno će
iskoristiti priliku da im s jednom
rečenicom zahvali na materijalnoj i
moralnoj pomoći u vrijeme njegovih
studija i da im se izvine što je odbio
već osigurano mjesto kojeg su mu oni
odmah pronašli. Objašnjenje će biti
jednostavno: odlučio je započeti
karijeru u sredini u kojoj nije živio,
pa prema tome, niti je poznaje. To je za
njega izazov i... šta imam više
objašnjavati? Izazov i gotovo!
Ne voli podučavati tamo gdje ga svi
poznaju, što bi, svakako, moglo loše
uticati na njegovu spremnost da do kraja
i u potpunoj mjeri sprovede u djelo ono
što već sad unaprijed zamišlja. Razumije
se da on nije nalazio nikakvo
295
Sead Mahmutefendić
zadovoljstvo u činjenici što na oca ni
najmanje neće ubjedljivo djelovati nove
okolnosti, pa će on ljutnju i
povrijeđenu taštinu pokušati zasnovati
na pretpostavci i uvjerenju da je to
više Dautova nezgrapna i diskretna
isprika i izgovor, a ne razumni razlozi
da bi se počela karijera u tamo nekoj
selendri, bogu iza leđa. Još se usuđuje
reći - karijera. Silna perspektiva! Pih!
Da bar zna slagati, nego ni to.
Znao je Daut da će on pred maćehom
reći: “To je sranje, a ne karijera!
Bolje bi mu bilo da je čoban u tom selu,
nego to što jeste. Tamo takve daleko
više uvažavaju. Uostalom, sa stadom bi
više zaradio s djecom”.
296
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Uvijek je on tako ružno govorio za
stvari za koje nije imao razumijevanja,
ili pak kada mu se činilo da se čovjek
nečim želi izmotavati.
- Reci mi, majka mu stara, da se
hoćeš zezati - podražavao je Daut u sebi
očev glas. - Reci lijepo: Hoću se
zajebavati. Problema nema. Svaka čast!
Samo me oslobodi riječi - karijera.
Osjeti Daut nelagodu što se na tako
kukavički način, preko riječi, bez
gledanja oči u oči s ocem i maćehom,
mora suprotstaviti njihovoj volji da
živi uz njih. Uostalom, to se od njega
oduvijek očekivalo. Ni u jednoj prilici
on nije davao ničim do znanja da
nagovijesti kako se želi odvojiti od
njih te želi živjeti sam ili s nekim
297
Sead Mahmutefendić
drugim. Svejedno. Ili pak, da otvoreno
iznese svoju ideju kako želi upoznati
život na selu. Odavno je on u sebi
računao s takvom mogućnošću da ostvari
svoja sanjarenja, samo što nikad nije
imao toliko dovoljno hrabrosti da to
objelodani nekom živom stvoru tu svoju
zamisao, već una-prijed
pretpostavljajući do kakvih bi
reperkusija mogla dovesti ta njegova
namjera i na kakvo će energično suprot-
stavljanje, zgražanje i ogovaranje naići
kod familije i po-znanika. Na očevo
nepovoljno reagovanje nije se vrijedilo
ni trošiti u pretpostavkama.
Ipak, na putu do pošte, koja bješe
nedaleko od auto-buske stanice, on se
predomisli, te na šalteru zatraži od
298
Suze Dauta Arfadžana službenika jedan obrazac telegrama. Na
njemu nažvrlja štampanim slovima da se
zaposlio u gimnaziji, da ne brinu i da
pismo slijedi.
Po povratku u hotel, Daut htjede
izmiriti račun na recepciji za sljedeću
sedmicu, ali recepcionar ljubazno sleže
ramenima i reče mu da je iz škole
javljeno da će oni snositi troškove
njegovog boravka dok mu se ne pronađe
kakav stančić za prvu priliku. Seljak ga
je čekao s njegovim prtljagom ispred
pokretnih staklenih vrata. Kad uđoše u
sobu i samo što odloži stvari na pod, on
Dautu napomenu, ne bez lukavog i
opreznog osmješka, kako mu je direktor
Zlojutro lično rekao ako nije toliko
299
Sead Mahmutefendić
umoran da skokne do njega u školu kako
bi već danas neke detalje utanačili.
- On vas tamo već očekuje, pa ako
bi mogli, ne bi loše bilo - snebivao se
Bogdan gužvajući kapu među prstima.
- Mogu, kad vi kažete -
dvosmisleno reče Daut.
- Hvala vi - reče u zanosu
polaskani Bogdan.
Krenuše obojica prema školi.
Prođoše između dvije stambene zgrade,
potamnjelih i oljuštenih zidova. Ugleda
Daut sivu kuću na brežuljku. Osjeti
kišu. Primijetivši da će pojačati, njih
dvojica ubrzaše korak, a odmah potom
dadoše se u trk.
300
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Kao u bukvaru, mislio je Daut dok
je u trku posmatrao školu.
12.
Sve se odigralo onako kako je to
Daut Arfadžan u više navrata zamišljao:
kako će stati pred direktora, koji
doduše nije bio onakav kakvog ga je
zamišljao, jer je ovaj imao bar sto oka,
te kako će se njihov razgovor više
ticati formalnih stvari, najviše oko
toga kad bi tdrebalo stupiti na posao.
U svemu ovom, ipak, nije mogao ni
pretpostaviti da će to uslijediti samo
nakon desetak minuta nakon što će
neiskren razgovor između njih dvoje
prekinuti školsko zvono i na taj način
301
Sead Mahmutefendić
obadvojicu osloboditi suvišnih emocija i
uvjeravanja u svoju čestitost i časnost.
Ljudeskara od direktora mu se
diskretno približila, nadnijevši se
cijelim tijelom preko svog radnog stola,
podnijela mu pod nos svoju čupavu glavu
i male, pseće uši iz kojih je izbijao
čkalj dlačurina, te mu svojim
levantinskim, zejtinastim očicama
uputila lukav, omalovažavajući osmi-
ješak, kao da pred njim stoji nespreman
učenik na ispitu, jasno stavljajući na
znanje da ne bi bilo loše ako bi već sad
uzeo imenik i s njim otišao u razred u
kojem, kako čuje, eno divlja trideset i
sedmero učenika.
- Mogu, kad vi kažete - reče Daut
pridigavši se malko na stolici. 302
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Ovaj put to nije izgovorio
dvosmisleno kao maloprije pred Bogdanom,
već odlučno i udarnički. - Nema
problema!
Imenik, koji bješe ranije poručen
da ga donesu u direktorovu kancelariju,
donese poslužiteljka.
Nije volio Daut takve teatralne
nastupe. On je više cijenio i strogost
izraza, pa makar mu ona i ne godila,
nego eufemizme zalivene diskretnom
lukavošću.
S rukama u džepovima od pantalona,
noseći imenik pod miškom, on uđe u
razred. Slučaj je htio da se baš u tom
trenutku trojica mladića bjehu okupili
oko neke učenice koja imaše ogromne
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Sead Mahmutefendić
grudi i koja nije znala kako se
odbraniti, nevješto držeći otvoren gard.
- Hoće da me siluju!... Manijaci!
- derala se ona iz sve snage.
U sred te buke i opće galame stajao
je Daut, pomalo zbunjen, pomalo ogorčen
ovim prizorom što vidi pred sobom. Na
pomisao da se tako nešto događa u školi
i to ne, već eto, u seoskoj školi, na
licu mu se ukaza izraz kojeg ima
“obično” iznenađen i naivan čovjek;
poprilično glup, te usta otvorenih.
- Neka vas hiljadu i jedan đavo
nosi - reče on dovoljno glasno da ga
njemu najbliži čuju.
- Ko je sad ovaj tu! - upita
jedan od one trojice mladića.
304
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Većina učenika se okrenu prema
njemu. U drugom kraju razreda još su
larmali i tjerali jedni druge po
klupama.
- Koji si ti? - upita Dauta drugi
mladić.
- Ja sam vaš novi profesor -
odgovori Daut.
Učenici složno prasnuše u smijeh.
Jedino se nije uspi-jevala snaći u novoj
situaciji djevojka koja je ravno gle-
dala Dauta u oči ne spuštajući gard s
grudi.
- Spusti to -reče joj Daut.
- Hoćeš ti malo! - pokaza mu
učenik očima na nju.
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Sead Mahmutefendić
Daut osjeti da bi uskoro mogao
izgubiti svaku pri-sebnost. Bio je ljut
na sebe što je odmah na početku dozvolio
da mu se obraćaju kao da je on neki
mangup. Nije znao niti je bio siguran
kako bi se valjalo ponijeti u ovom
drenutku: da li prihvatiti njihovo
peckanje i zadirkivanje ne dajući im do
znanja da ga je njihova zloga poprilično
pokolebala ili će stvar odmah, na licu
mjesta, preuzeti u svoje ruke tako što
će najstrožijim glasom narediti svima da
odu na svoja mjesta ili će, pak, otići
do direktora u njegovu kancelariju i
požaliti mu se na nepristojnost kojom su
ga dočekali učenici u razredu.
Eventualne zamjerke na takvu svoju
reakciju moći će pravdati napornim
306
Suze Dauta Arfadžana putovanjem i umorom kojeg je prilično
osjećao.
Uglavnom, znao je da vremena za
razmišljanje nema na pretek. Trebalo je
reagovati onako kako oni ne očekuju:
iznenaditi ih i zateći ih. Ako to ne
učini, moći će ubuduće mirne duše
dolaziti sa mašionkom u razred i opet
neće biti ništa.
- Ovaj je još veće kino od druga
Rećemo - reče jedan visoki, štrkljavi
mladić pun gnojnih prištića po licu.
Kosa mu biješe jaka i rudlava, pramenovi
su mu padali po čelu pa je gledao u
Dauta kao foksterijer. Njihovu bockastu
veselost Daut je, bez sumnje, morao
doživljavati kao svoju inferi-ornost,
jer je ona već sada počela prelaziti u
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Sead Mahmutefendić
intimnu indiskretnost, pa je još samo
nedostajalo da ne pređe u opću lakrdiju.
Očevidno je bilo da ga je na to
podstrekavala njihova galama, odvratnost
prema ovoj vrsti đačke osvetoljubivosti,
koja je počinjala bivati neljudska. Svi
oni zajedno pokušaće što više
iskoristiti ovu njegovu zbunjenost i ne-
snalažljivost, koja je dobila groteskne
razmjere zbog nje-govih jalovih i
glupavih osmijeha. Njima ih je nastojao
više odobrovoljiti, pa čak i dodvoriti
im se, nego što je iskreno osjećao da je
nešto ovdije uistinu smiješno.
U ovakvom općem smijanju, oni ga
nisu htijeli izjed-načiti sa sobom, već
su ga htjeli uniziti. Takav ispit morao
je polagati u ovoj školi svaki novi 308
Suze Dauta Arfadžana nastavnik, a evo, sad mu se trebao
ophrvati i Daut. Glup je bio što je
pristao da ga ovako umornog nasankaju i
ubace ravno među ovu divljač.
On naredi da odu u klupe. Na
njegovo znenađenje, oni ga poslušaše.
pođe i on ka katedri nesigurnim korakom.
Sad se bojao mogućnosti da će oni
primijetiti njegovo šepesanje i to će
kod njih, vjerovatno, izazvati još veći
smijeh, možda i sažaljiv prezir na kojeg
ne bi mogao ostati ravnodušan. Nekima se
to, na njegovu žalost, dogodilo da uoče
taj tjelesni nedostatak. Gurkanjem
laktovima i koljenima, te striganjem
očima skretali su pažnju ostalima. Prije
nego što se uspio dokopati katedre,
osjeti Daut kako mu neko postavi nogu
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Sead Mahmutefendić
pod onu njegovu zdravu u trenutku kad je
svu težinu tijela prenosio na onu
bolesnu. On izgubi ravnotežu, tijelo mu
krenu kapodu. Imenik odbaci u stranu
kako bi imao slo-bodne ruke da se dočeka
na njih. To bi mu zasigurno i uspjelo da
ga neko u onoj gužvi ne odgurnu, te on
pade cijelom težinom na stranu.
Opći i zluradi smijeh zaori se
razredom. Ali, samo trenutak kasnije,
kao da učenici osjetiše da su pretjerali
u neobuzdanoj lakrdiji. Zavlada tišina i
napeto isčekivanje.
Daut otvori razrednu knjigu na onoj
stranici gdje je virila plava traka.
Lagano je ispisivao nastavnu jedinicu za
taj sat. Pritiskao je pero uz papir da
se ne primijeti kako mu ruka drhti. Sva 310
Suze Dauta Arfadžana sreća po njega što je katedra naprijed
pregradu od šperploče, te mu se nisu
mogle vidjeti noge koje su se tresle od
uzbuđenja.
Kad ispisa i stavi svoj paraf u dnu
rubrike, pažljivo zavi kapicu na
penkalo, kojeg potom odloži kraj
sklopljene knjige. Onda, najednom,
ustade i uputi se prema zadnjoj klupi
odakle ga je naticao na pogled onaj
visoki mladić jake i rudlave kose.
- Ti si ono maloprije učinio? -
upita ga Daut. Nastojao je da djeluje
što mirnije. Potrudio se da mu glas bude
baršunast kako bi na učenike ostavio što
uvjerljiviji dojam.
311
Sead Mahmutefendić
Mladić udahnu vazduh kako bi mu
mogao odgovoriti glasom isto tako
dubokim i baršunastim: “Ja, pa šta?”
Razred se još jedanput nasmija na
njegovo efektno i drsko imitiranje.
Daut ga pažljivo zagleda sa strane,
a onda, onako kamenog izraza na licu,
zamoli ga da mu oslobodi pola sto-lice
kako bi mogao sjesti uz njega. Mladić se
okrenu, izne-nađen njegovom molbom.
Oklijevao je tren-dva a potom se po-
mjeri malo u stranu. Daut sjede uz njega
okrenuvši mu leđa.
Prava je bila sreća i neobično
povoljna okolnost što su svi bili
iznenađeni ovakvom njegovom reakcijom.
Bilo je neophodno da je održi u ovako
312
Suze Dauta Arfadžana neprijatnom slučaju i učini nešto što je
zbilja bilo potrebno učiniti, te odlučno
inter-venisati prije nego se iz svega
ovog ne izvrgne nešto što se više nikad
neće zaliječiti. Sve bi to kasnije
doživljavo na daleko neprijatniji način,
trebalo je dobro glavom promućka-ti time
što će je pokušati ostaviti hladnom a
sebe održati pribranim.
Tišina je trajala hiljadu godina.
Neko je pokuša pre-kinuti smijuljenjem,
ali bješe očito da se sad ne može ići
tim putom.
Čekala se Dautova riječ.
- Vidite - u potpunoj tišini i
isčekivanju mentalno odjeknu njegov glas
- ima jedna stvar na početku ovog našeg
natezanja koju bi pokušao odmah
313
Sead Mahmutefendić
riješiti. Pazite: ja sam došao ovdje a
da mi se nije ni dolazilo. Crijeva su,
izgle-da, tako naredila i nadam se da tu
ne bi trebalo biti neke veće diskusije.
Vi ste ovdje jer su vam naredili da
dođete ovdje, obećavši vam da ćete bolje
živjeti ako završite školu. Mislim da je
to sasvim u redu, ako ne uspijete usput
saznati i doznati za neke druge stvari,
koje škola niti je u stanju, niti vam
namjerava otkriti. Koga zanima, moraće
se sam potruditi da na svojim leđima
spozna laži kojim su vas dosad šopali, a
i odsad će vas šopat i šopat će vas dok
god bude škole. To je, dakle, prva
stvar. Drugo. Vidim da me niste baš
srdačno dočekali. Normalno je da je to
vaša stvar ili stvar vaše frustracije.
314
Suze Dauta Arfadžana Ako vi uopće znate šta znači riječ
frustracija. To vam pravo ne može niko
oduzeti. Može jedino uskratiti, ali ćeš
onda biti prisiljen psovati u sebi
profesoru mater. I to kojem profesoru?
Onom kojeg društvo ponižava mizernom
platom, kojem je dodijelilo građanstvo
drugog reda po onome što mu daje i
onome što mu priznaje, onom profesoru
koji je pun kurijih očiju po nogama od
izno-sanih cipela sa šupljim đonovima i
kome je u glavi težina njegove svinje
koju će on zaklati na Božić preča nego
nekakvi logaritmi i neki nesretni
pjesnici, čija će te vi samoubistva
uzimati da je čovjek, jednostavno,
otegao papke. Međutim, koristim svoje
pravo čovjeka, koji je doveden u
situaciju da se mora braniti, da od vas315
Sead Mahmutefendić
zahtijevam da mi više nikad ne priredite
ovakvu svinjariju. Ukoliko se to,
ubuduće, i dogodi - pa makar i slučajno
- smatraću da ste drski. Ako neko bude
toliko drzak, kao ovaj tu dečko koji mi
je maloprije podmetnuo nogu, uzeću to za
otvoren izazov. I, treće. O sebi vam
neću mnogo govoriti. Reći ću vam samo
ovo:
2. Mene je ulica vaspitala. Moji
učitelji bili su lopovi,
kukavice i lumpenproleteri.
3. Tri puta sam izbacivan iz
škole tako da mi ovaj slino,
moj sadašnji sijamski
blizanac, ne bi bio u stanju
ni cipele očistiti.
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
4. Studije sam proveo među
kockarima i kriminalcima.
Ako se nekog pribojavam u životu,
može me samo biti strah samog
sebe. Nije me ni briga što će
biti sutra od mene, jer mi je
strašno dosadno i mučno na
koju god se stranu okrenem.
Može me oduševiti lijepa,
iskrena i obična ljudska
riječ. To mi, da stvar bude
gora, tek predstavlja pravi
problem. Bojim se da neću biti
u stanju odgovoriti istom
mjerom. Među zlima dišem punim
plućima. Među dobrima dišem na
škrge.
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Sead Mahmutefendić
- A to - okrenu se on prema rudlavom
mladiću - tebi ću pred tvojim drugarima
reći dvije stvari: što tije ono
maloprije trebalo kad ja dobro vidim iz
tvojih očiju da si ti dobar čovjek, samo
što si povodljiv i daš se nasamariti.
Nećeš dobro proći u životu ako ostaneš
takav. Druga stvar će ti biti odmah
valjda jasna: ako me ti ili bi ko drugi
fizički ili verbalno povrijedi, neće
ništa valjati. Ovo ne govorim što volim
i cijenim sebe, već što nemam živaca da
osluškujem i osjetim da neko talasa u
mojoj blizini. Ako vam je dosadno, neka
dosada bude bar otmjena. Valja imati
stila i za nju. Još sinoć, negdje pred
ponoć, ja sam pobjegao iz jednog
osinjaka što se zove Studentski grad.
318
Suze Dauta Arfadžana Gotovo istog trenutka, kad on završi,
oglasi se zvono za kraj sata. Učenici se
ni ne pomjeriše sa svojih mjesta. Bješe
sasvim očito da ih se dojmila Dutova
priča.
Daut uze imenik i pođe ka vratima, a
onda na peti zdrave noge učini poluokret
i svima se naceri: “Ne dajte da vas
zavedu moje riječi. Sve sam ovo govorio
iz straha da vas neću moći kontrolisati.
Lagao sam vas, cure moje i momci. Jeste
li vi cura i momak na bobak, bobak puče,
cura uteče!” Učenici u zanosu još jednom
prasnuše u smijeh. Bili su u prijatnoj i
lagodnoj zbunjenosti. Takvog čovjeka još
nisu vidjeli.
Genijalac!
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Sead Mahmutefendić
- Ako hoće neko zajebavati, bili ga vi
ubili? - upita neko iz gomile učenika.
- Ako bi se takav našao, taj ne bi bio u
stanju to provjeriti - odgovori spremno
Daut. - A da to drugi za njega učine,
mislim da im se ne bi isplatilo.
Istog časa on se uozbilji kao kakav
satrap, ali tako vješto i namjerno da su
tu njegovu gestu mogli i morali svi
uočiti.
Probijajući se hodnikom između učenika,
on pomisli: Moji su, imam ih. Uspio sam
ih obmanuti. Još za vrijeme ovog odmora
raskukurikaće po cijeloj školi ovu moju
priču. Ne daj Bože da neko dokuči da sam
sve ovo kompletno slagao.
320
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
13.
S odraslima je išlonešto drugačije.
Niko, razumije se, nije poricao novom
kolegi umješnost kojom je uspijevao
pridobiti naklonost učenika. Naravna
stvar da je to nesum-njivo moralo
ostaviti izvjesnog prostora ogovaranju
povrije-đenih i ljubomornih, a uz to i
taštih duhova, koji su u tom neskrivenom
i oduševljenom izljevu đačkih simpatija
prona-lazili prijekor na račun njih
samih, te su svim načinima pokušavali
obezvrijediti svog novog kolegu bilo
kakvim ne-prizornim znakom. Izgleda
možda čudno da se na ove primjedbe Daut
nije osvrtao, već naprotiv ako bi ih
kojim slučajem i čuo, on bi potvrđivao
njihove sudove preko nekih trećih lica
što su oni neko vrijeme prenosili onima321
Sead Mahmutefendić
na koje se to odnosilo. Normalno da je
to neke ostavljalo zbunjene, dok bi
drugi to tumačili njegovom lukavošću, a
treći bi ga, jedno-stavno, držali za
najobičnijeg lakrdijaša koji nije
dostojan da se o njemu ozbiljno
razmišlja. “To što on čini u razredu,
nema blage veze s pedagogijom. To je
pozorište! Farsa! Cirkus! To više govori
kako je ovo društvo koje dozvoli tako
nešto nego kakav je on”.
I pored svog ogovaranja, Daut je i
dalje, prilikom ula-ska u zbornicu,
upućivao pozdrav prisutnima preletjevši
smiješkom od stolice do stolice. U
takvim prilikama njegov pogled obično bi
odlutao i nešto se više zadržavao u dnu
prostorije gdje je sjedila Vanda. Njene
322
Suze Dauta Arfadžana oči bi, takođe, samo kliznule i okrznule
se s njegovim, ali samo toliko koliko je
trebalo da mu na njih odgovori. To je
izvodio vješto, s rasijanom
ravnodušnošću, da se ona ponekad pitala
da li ona, možda, neumjesno reaguje s
jakim crvenilom na licu. To su, ubrzo,
morali primijetiti i drugi, jer je ono
odudaralo od bjeline njene sjajne kose.
Tako je prošlo izvjesno vrijeme -
dvije do tri sedmice.
Biješe nastupio novembar - veoma
sunčan i ljubak za ovo doba godine.
Skoro će polovica jeseni, a dani su
topli kao i ljeti. Doduše, posljednjih
dana na TV je bilo nagovještaja kiša,
ali je hladan val i ovaj puta zaobišao
ove krajeve navješćujući samo nešto
323
Sead Mahmutefendić
vlage u vazduhu. No za to nije niko
mario pa se jesenjski svijet u
okasnjelom ljetu nudio svakom
preduzimljivom duhu.
Preko hrome čistačice, tačno
poslije šestog časa, Daut dobi obavijest
na papiru da ga Vanda očekuje zajedno s
društvom u mjesnoj kafani. Tamo će i
ručati, a nakon toga će svi autom otići
na izlet. Dautu se učini ponuda nešto
indi-skretnom, ali nije imao volje da u
njoj traži način da ko-načno učini
prirodnije i prijateljskije njihove
odnose, niti neku skrivenu poruku kojom
bi ga Vanda pozivala k sebi.
Kad završi zadnji čas, on pođe ka
kafani prečicom preko travnjaka. Čim ga
ugledaše, već dobro zagrijani, digoše 324
Suze Dauta Arfadžana ruke u znak dobrodošlice, te se brže-
bolje razmakoše trpajući mu do Vande
slobodnu stolicu. Tu se stvori i nečija
ruka, ispružena s kraja stola, da mu
napuni vino u čašu.
Sto trideset kilograma težak,
sjedio je zavaljen u sto-licu direktor
Zlojutro i otresao pepeo s cigarete na
novo novcato odijelo. Mada je soptao, on
je govorio glasno, vrlo šaljivo i
slikovito o učenicima tako da su mu se
svi za stolom svaki čas morali uglas
smijati. On je obilato kori-stio
uzbuđeno raspoloženje među profesorima
da ga još više ponese svojim vrcavim
pošalicama.
- Jer - veli on - kad sam se prvi
put pojavio među učenicima na pragu
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Sead Mahmutefendić
učionice, gledaju oni njega, gleda on
njih. Vidi on da su oni radi zajebavati,
ali prvo, kurve, čekaju šta će on
prozboriti. Jebiga, ne znaju oni još ko
sam ja. Izvučem ja kriomice antene na
svom releju da im uhvatim svaki herc.
Fatam ja njima talasnu dužinu. Gledam
ja, cimaju se oni laktovima; tek ti ja
vovim svojim dlakavim ušima ufatim šta
zbore. Velju, ko je ovo ovaj trbonja?
Vidi mu pekare! Ja velju, šta s’
igraš?... ti, ti u četvrtoj klupi, hoš
da mi nabiješ komplekse tim tvojim
pogledom? Koji si ti? Ko, jel ja? -
izdreljio on u mene oči ko zerdelije. -
Babin i majkin! - spika on meni. - Nemoj
da te dofatim iza uha pa ćeš d´ izgledaš
ko tarač. A jedan mene motri iz klupe,
326
Suze Dauta Arfadžana zino, vidim ja, ovom nisu sve na broju.
- Štas zinu, lafe? - izdreljim se ja
nanj, a on meni kar, kar-kare, jeebi ga
druže kako to u-huspjevaš sve to sa
sobom nohositi? Jehesi li ti malo u
stranu ili se ti prahaviš da si ti u
stranu pa ti mehene ko malo, ono ko
mehene? - Kažem ja njemu, a on meni ni
pet - ni šest pa će: što su meheni
šehega dehebeli, samo kad hi vidim mogo
bi se vahaljati od smijeha. Što su
meheni smjehešni dehebeli. Šta ti mehene
propituješ ko daha sam ja neheki
špihijun?
Crven u licu kao rak, fiskulturnik
Gruje se ubaci s primjedbom da je taj
momak Goran Ećimović radio prije na
benzinskoj pumpi i da je izbačen od tamo
327
Sead Mahmutefendić
zato što je uhvaćen nekoliko puta da
puši na radnom mjestu.
Slušaj sad, nastavi direktor
Zlojutro, ja mu predavo es-´a. Ne čita
niko, ko kad naš narod organski mrzi
knjigu. Kaže moj pašonok, nisam dijete
da čitam knjigu. Kolko voli pričati,
toliko mrzi knjigu. A taj Goran je
indeks za jugo-čitača. Vidim ja da niko
nije pročito ni slova, a ja ljepo: jedan
tebi, jedan tebi. Narogušili se oni,
streljaju me ispod oni svoji planinski
nastrešnica, samo im fale još ledenice,
a ne smije niko guknut. Dođem ja do
Gorana, spojim i ja svoje obrve, nema da
fali, dlaka bar imamo, pa ga pitam: jesi
l ti to čito? a on meni: Jehesam! E, kad
jehesi, što si čito? Viktora Hugu. Nije
328
Suze Dauta Arfadžana Hugo, već je Igo. On izvadi knjigu pa mi
je podnese pod oči, evo, kaže piše ljepo
Hugo. Hoću ja njemu da dam dvojku, pa mu
ništa ne velim, neka misli da je tačno
odgovorio. Niko u razredu da se nasmije.
Hugo? Hugo! Zna čoek, svaka čast.Dede,
velju ja njemu, pričaj mi nešto iz
knjige. To je tuhužna knjiga da ne
mohože bihiti tuhužnija. Šta ima tu biti
tužno? Tuhužno je kad je na crkvi
zvohonilo. To tebi tužno kad na crkvi
zvohoni? Znaš li bar kolko je bilo sati?
Sehedam. E baš nije sehedam nego ohosam.
Ja to reče a on za torbu da izvadi
knjigu. Znaham daha je bihilo sehedam da
him jehebem sehedam bohogova. Hoće li
biti sehedam? Jee-hest sii-higurno,
dahabogda nahašo sve mhrtvo i zahaklano
329
Sead Mahmutefendić
po kuhući ako nihije bihilo sehedam
sahati.
Gledam ja po razredu, niko se ne
smije. Čela ozbiljna ko ono u Tesle na
njegovoj bisti ispred Elektrotehničkog u
Beogradu.
- Aha - kažem ja - imaš ti Gorane
pravo, osam sati je zvonilo kod jednog
drugog pisca. Nema problema, vidi se da
si čito, stvarno je bilo sedam sati.
- Kahati kahažem.
- To je, Gorane, čista duja.
Zlojutro stade da otare znoj sa
čela. Društvo se smi-jalo još neko
vrijeme, a onda se svi stišaše i neko s
dna stola uzdahnu: “Ee, što se
ismijasmo. Suze me zališe.”
330
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Uliše Dautu vino u čašu. Opet
ponovi isti glas: “Ee, što se iskidasmo
od smijeha.”
- Njegova se sestra objesila
preklani - reče Drago.
- Svi su oni malo porodično -
primijeti Vanda.
- Vidite, druže direktore - javi se
Grujo - ja mnogo čitam časopise, knjige.
Jednostavno, mnogo čitam. Ja ih,
naprosto, gutam. Nema ni desetak dana,
čitam članak jednog američkog psihologa
da takvim ljudima tipa kao što je taj
Goran ne valja dozvoljavati razmahivanje
fantazije, jer ih ona može odvesti u
još, kako on tvrdi, viša stanja
šizofrenije i zavesti ih u više sfere
nerealnog i neade-kvatnog poimanja
331
Sead Mahmutefendić
objektivnog svijeta oko sebe. Strogošću
i pravilnim stavom će se na najbolji
način uspijeti spriječiti njihova
mentalna neobuzdanost i iracionalnost.
Nekontro-lisana demokratičnost ili pak
sažaljenje prema njima uzrok su njihovih
kasnijih halucinacija. U tom članku još
piše i to da to još više pospiješuje
njihovu nekontrolisanu fanta-ziju, koja
može otići do paranoje i do samog
ludila.
- To ti ko meni spuštaš? -
uozbilji se Zlojutro.
- Ne, ne, ne, ne, ne, nismo se
razumijeli, druže direktore - još se
više zacrveni Grujo. Ja sam čito...
332
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Nećemo sad ozbiljno - ubaci se
nekolicina glasova. - Lijepo smo se
nasmijali. Ti, Grujo, uvijek moraš
zasrati sa svojim teorijama i
pizdarijama.
- Kako to misliš: pizdarijama? -
izbuljene oči izdva-jale su mu se u
crvenilu lica. - Izvoli mi objasniti,
šta si misli s tim reći.
- Tako, lijepo: sereš kad god
zineš - odgovori mu isti glas - ne može
čovjek od tebe na miru ni čašu vina
popiti.
- Molim te da biraš rječnik -
upozori ga Grujo.
- Dobro, oprosti. Onda, kakiš!
Izvini, namjerno je. Da izvini. Ono ko
fin. Mi, vi, oni. 333
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Jesmo li već počeli ko da smo
na zboru kad se govori o plati? - diže
se hemičarka. L´jep imate rječnik. Nema
šta? Akademski građani.
- To su neologizmi, drugarice. -
reče Zlojutro. - To je naš lokalni
doprinos razbijanju standardnog
književnog jezika.
- Šta misli naš novi kolega? -
upita okrenuvši se izravno ka Dautu.
- Ne mislim ništa. - odgovori
Daut.
- Opa, bato. - zviznu neko. - Ova
mu je dobra.
- Mislim da vam je vino super, a
i jagnjetina, takođe - reče Daut.
334
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Volim konkretne ljude -
podvrisnu matematičar Ratko. - Dva i dva
su četiri. Ti ćeš, Grujo, reći da nisu
četiri.
- Ja ću to reći kao da je to
sedam manje tri - pokuša Grujo biti
duhovit.
- Što mi ovaj tip ide na kurac -
poluglasno je mumljao biolog Gojko sebi
u bradu.
- Ih, a tek meni - naceri se
direktor Zlojutro.
- Rajko, ljepotane, daj za ovaj
sto još pet litara - sav zajapuren
prodera se Hercegovac iz Gacka, profesor
iz OTO-a. - Vanda, dušo, kako ide
šljaka?
335
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Čekaj malo, ne viči, nismo sami
- prekori ga muzičarka.
- Šta, ne viči? - kaže Hercegovac
nešto tišim glasom. - Ja i Vanda smo
ratni drugovi sa Solunskog fronta. Je li
tako Vanda?
Vanda mu diskretno kimnu glavom.
- Jest, jest - pričao je Ratko
oko sebe - volim ja kad kažu da su dva i
dva četiri i kad mi kec naleti na
desetku. Sad ćemo mi, čim maknu ove
tanjire. Donio mi zet dva špila karata.
Šta je Vanda, da se nisi zacopala u tog
našeg novajliju?
- Sad se vidi, sad se zna, ko se
kome dopada! - stade društvo pljeskati.
- Alah selamet - okrenu Daut oči
ka nebu. 336
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Svi do jednog prasnuše u smijeh.
Dautu Arfadžanu olakšavala je
činjenica što je položaj stolica bio
takav da je on - sa svoje - mogao
posmatrati Vandu samo iskosa, imajući
pred sobom samo tri četvrtine njenog
profila. Usta su joj bila velika, pomalo
žablja, što je u njemu od prvog viđenja
izazivalo seksualnu pohotlji-vost. Usne
je imala debele i uvijek napadno ružom
namazane. Iznad gornje usne primijeti da
je imala brčiće, koje je vjerovatno
brijuckala i bijelila. Ruke su joj bile
stalno naprijed isturene, te su svo
vrijeme počivale na stolu, osim kad bi
htjela izvaditi paklo cigareta iz
torbice iz koje nikad nikom nije nudila.
337
Sead Mahmutefendić
Nokti su joj bili njegovani, šilja-ti i
obojeni zelenim lakom.
Na sve primjedbe, Vanda ostade
mirna. Jedini znak uzbu-dljive
zbunjenosti bješe to što je svako toliko
ispuhivala dim od cigarete uvis na
uglove usana. Bješe očito da je htjela
ostaviti utisak na društvo time što je
podešavala svoje gestove, delikatno
nijansirane, točno određene da bi
radoznale nasmijance i dalje držala u
nedoumici ne rekavši im ni da ni ne.
Ovakva njena gestikulacija sama po sebi
bila je najumjesnija i za nju i za njih,
pa i za Dauta, pa je samim tim još više
zabavljala društvo oko sebe. Žablje usne
bi se još malo više razvukle, a ona bi,
povremeno, tobože s prijekorom, dizala i
338
Suze Dauta Arfadžana lučila obrve. Usta su bila napola
otvorena, te je izgledalo da će svaki
čas nešto važno reći.
- Još večeras testiraće ga na
svom poligonu - šapnu Ratko Hercegovcu
na uho žvaćući punim ustima veći komad
janjetine.
- Aaa, joj Liko, žali li te iko!
- podvrisnu Herce-govac, tobože žaleći
Ratkove loše karte.
Kad god bi se razgovor dotakao
seksa, ne samo lice, već bi mu planula
cijela ćela, vrat i ruke, beonjače se
krvlju napunile i oči dobile
sladostrasan sjaj kao da u ulju plivaju.
Za njega je već prvi dan Daut Dragi
primijetio da ovakvi najvjerovatnije
svaki dan onanišu, a sutradan pričaju
339
Sead Mahmutefendić
najozbiljnijeg izraza lica s onom istom
koju je juče pod sobom zamišljao.
Društvo je posjedilo još dva sata.
Za to vrijeme popiše svo vino, bijehu
donešeni komadi torte puni jeftinog
marga-rina. Nakon crne kafe stadoše se
razilaziti.
Njih šestoro ostadoše za stolom:
Ratko, Hercegovac, Zlojutro, Grujo,
Vanda i Daut.
Ratko zapljeska prema konobaru
Rajku da im očisti sto, a onda iz džepa
izvadi dva nova špila karata. Naručiše
pivo, vinjak, kafu i mineralnu vodu. Još
od ranije znali su da Daut ne karta.
Njih četvoro se rasporediše kako će
sjediti. Kao i svi strastveni kockari,
340
Suze Dauta Arfadžana oni se svečano uozbiljiše i ušutiše čim
razdijeliše prve karte.
Na kraju stola ostali su Vanda i
Daut, prepušteni sami sebi. Daut
Arfadžan odmah pređe na stvar.
14.
Došao je mjesec travanj a s
njegovim prvim sunčanim danima sve je
više raslo Dautovo zadovoljstvo. Osjećao
se kao vitez na konju opijen blagodatima
života, te u neku ruku, odao je
priznanje na svemu onom što je priuštio
samom sebi tokom protekle zime. Teško bi
bilo reći i teško bi bilo pobrojati sve
ono o čemu je on razmišljao posljednjih
mje-seci, ali, uglavnom, sve se svodilo
na to da je to vrijeme živio onako kako
341
Sead Mahmutefendić
ni u snu ne bi predpostavio prije nego
što je došao u ovo mjesto. Nekoliko
činjenica izgledale su mu nemoguće: prvo
- da je mogao, uopće, ostati toliko
vremena u ovoj betinji, koju je ovlaš
poznavao tek imenom iz jedne Andrićeve
priče, a drugo - da je svojim dolasko,
bez svake sumnje, obzirom na svoj
karakter, unio izvjesno neraspolo-ženje,
podozrivost, ogovaranja i trabunjanja
kod pojedinih duhova koji su na primjer,
tumačili njegov flert s Vandom kao
sračunato vrijeđanje njih samih ili - u
najmanju ruku - podsmjehivanje i
šprdanje s njihovom curom. Jer, ipak,
Vanda su oni a oni su Vanda.
u svakom slučaju, Daut Arfadžan,
kao uviđavan čovjek, morao je ubrzo
342
Suze Dauta Arfadžana uočiti ovu zanimljivu primjedbu, te je
brže-bolje ograničio svoja viđenja s
Vandom na svega jedan ili dva usputna
razgovora dnevno. Tok tih razgovora
mogao se vrlo lako predpostaviti.
- Kolegice Nahod, mogu li vas
zamoliti u vezi s III/3 da mi pošaljete
učenika...
Potom će, sasvim tihim glasom, dok
šumno okreće listove imenika i ne
okrećući glavu u stranu njoj u profil
promrmljati: “Moramo se večeras
vidjeti!” “Kako?” - pitala je Vanda
mršteći se i govoreći naglas da je i
drugi čuju “Ne mogu vam, kolega
Arfadžan, dati Borovćanina. On je slab
učenik. Bolje mu je da bude prisutan na
satu.”
343
Sead Mahmutefendić
Nijedno od njih ni na trenutak nije
zbunjivala ova pritajena i lukava igra
pred ostalima koji su bili prisutni u
zbornici. Nije to bila ni u kom pogledu
neznatna i bespo-trebna stvar, jer je
ova njihova gluma mogla dati rezultate
koji bi izazvali pometnju.
Za sve to vrijeme njihovog
razgovora, Grujo se s dna stola
podrugljivo cerio, kao i obično -
uspaljenih obraza, sve dotle dok Daut
Arfadžan ne bi shvatio da ono ima za
cilj da ga upozori kako ih je oboje
“pročitao” i da su im badava sva ta
njihova glumatanja. Daut bi tad prilazio
uspaljenom Gruji te svečano mirnim
glasom pitao ga da li bi mogao doznati
344
Suze Dauta Arfadžana čemu se ta njegova individua toliko
pederski smije.
Vjerujući apsolutno u svoju
seljačku intuiciju da je prokužio stvar,
Grujo ga je posmatrao odozdo s
osjećanjem prezrive nadmenosti. U tom
pogledu, Daut nije mogao ništa drugo
shvatiti već se samo zadovoljiti
zaključkom da ima odvratne, svjetloplave
oči, koje su ga mirno i podozrivo
posmatrale. Daut s nelagodom utvrdi da
on uopće ne sumnja, već je uvjeren u ono
zbog čega se sad smješka.
Kakva drskost!
Njegov mu se smiješak učinio kao
osmješak, maloumnika, pa je stoga,
dabome, morao u jednom trenutku čak
osjetiti da ga njegova blizina naprosto
345
Sead Mahmutefendić
fizički muči. Oštrim riječima on dade
kolegi na znanje da mu smeta takvo
njegovo ponašanje i cerekanje na njegov
račun, spočitnuvši mu usput da je to
prilično drsko i nekulturno od njega.
Ako hoće - i nevaspitano! Na tu
primjedbu Gojko mu ne osta dužan, već mu
prigovori da je baš neodgojeno i
licemjerno od njega što blefira pred
kolegama držeći ih za ovce. “Ako ništa,
nekorektno je prema Vandi.”
Daut se okrenu, pogledom potraži po
zbornici Vandu koja bješe još ranije
otišla na sat.
- S tvojim tumačenjem gimnastike,
ljubavi, politike - unese se Daut Gruji
u lice, čineći mu kažiprstom kružiće
346
Suze Dauta Arfadžana ispred nosa - meni će bez greške jednog
dana skočiti ovoliki čir na stomaku.
- Čir ćete dobiti, dragi moj
kolega, zato što ste lukavi -
hladnokrvno primijeti Grujo.
Daut nije znao ništa pametnije da
nađe nego da rekne: “Ti ćeš da mi
kažeš?”
Grujo se još više ugnijezdi u
stolici: “Kolega, mislim da ste u svojoj
nekulturi sasvim pretjerali s vašim
tika-njem. Molio bih vas da prekinemo
jer vi očigledo ne znate razovarati na
jednoj akademskom nivou. Mogu samo da
žalim.”
Daut je stajao neko vrijeme iznad
njega, ali ne zbog toga da bi slušao
besjedu tog Stevea Revesa, allias347
Sead Mahmutefendić
Herkulesa, već zato što je činio
izuzetne napore da se suzdrži da mu
nešto neumjesno ne rekne, jer je znao da
bi to prisutni to primili s negodovanjem
i antipatijom. Dakle, on je i pored sve
uzbuđenosti zbog sarkazma svog kolege,
nastojao i trudio se ostati hladnokrvan,
a, u stvari, znao je da ako razmakne
svoje dvije usne, jezik će mu povući za
sobom ne samo bujicu, već vodopad
riječi, te će mirne duše sutradan moći
otići u tajništvo po radnu knjižicu
prije nego ga oni sami izbace iz škole.
Eto, njegovog morala i hrabro-sti - mora
se suzdržavati zbog onog što je najviše
prezirao. Počeli su kompromisi i laži.
Pred uperenim, hladnim Grujinim
pogledom, on ustuknu. Dok je izlazio iz
348
Suze Dauta Arfadžana zbornice, nekoliko puta uzastopce
zatvori oči, kratko i zvučno izbacujući
zrak iz sebe: “Hu! Hu!”
15.
Dok je posmatrao ogromni plakat
izlijepljen na mjesnom trgu, koji je
obaviještavao o skorašnjem interškolskom
prvenstvu u nogometu, Daut Arfadžan
osjeti rezignaciju, ali ne zbog ovog
skorašnjeg događaja, već zato što ga je
sve više ispunjavao neki neodređeni
strah i sumnja. Jedva se odlučio da ipak
okrene prema školi, mada zato nije imao
nekog jačeg razloga pošto je ostalo još
dosta vremena do početka njegove smjene.
Toplo lipanjsko prijepodne. Velika,
ulazna, metalna vrata stajala su sad
349
Sead Mahmutefendić
pred njim, a on jadnik umalo da posrne -
da li zbog toga što su zatvorena ili
zbog toga što iza njih nema ništa
tražiti niti vjeruje da tamo može ikog
pronaći. Bar da se ljulja u iluziji da
će mu neko toplo i ljudski spustiti ruku
na rame. Ne treba njemu ničije slov.
Nad oči nadsvodni krovuljak od
savijenog dlana i zagle-da se u dubinu
jednog prizemnog prozora ima li koga u
razredu. Isti čas, on ču s one strane
stakla smijeh učenika koji ga prenu iz
rasijanosti. Ta ga činjenica još više
zbuni i ojadi. Makinalno stade pogledom
tražiti nastavnika ispred ploče. Bogzna
koliko bi to vremena činio da se nečiji
dlan s raširenim prstima ne spusti iza
stakla, ispred njegovih očiju. To ga
350
Suze Dauta Arfadžana povrati. On podiže pogled i tek tad
ugleda Dragu.
Skameni se Daut Arfadžan od ledene
jeze. Mogao je zamisliti kako smješno i
poput luđaka izgleda u ovakvom
snishodljivom položaju, pa se zbog toga
osjeti još rđavije. U istom trenutku
primijeti Draginu ruku kako ona krenu ka
kvaci da otvori prozor, ali mu on hitro
mahnu rukom. Taj ga pokret toliko
iznenadi i zbuni. Pomisli da je to
nečija tuđa ruka a ne njegova. Toliko mu
se ona učinila strašna i van njegovog
tijela.
Uobražava li on luđaka? Valjda to
nisam, čim mogu postaviti sebi tako
pitanje? Luđak je daleko od pomisli da
je to već postao. Uostalom, on za
351
Sead Mahmutefendić
takonešto nije ni sposoban. Ako
ustanovi, onda to još nije luđak. Ludilo
je stanje uobražavanja. ludilo je, sjeti
se on riječi svog profesora sa
sveučilišta Nikole Miloševića,
neadekvatno primanje podražaja iz
objektivne stvarnosti.
Daut Arfadžan htjede pokriti oči
rukama, ali nije mogao, jer u isto
vrijeme pimisli da radi neki užasan
posao. Sav očajan, htjede se pošto-poto
pomjeriti s mjesta, ali shvati da će
tobiti veoma, veoma teško. Čak šta više,
pomisli da će mu se glava skotrljati s
ramena.
Jedino čega je bio svjestan bilo je
da se što prije makne s očiju ove silne
dječurlije i ovog dobroćudnog pjane, 352
Suze Dauta Arfadžana čije šale ne bi bio sad u stanju variti.
Volio je on tog Dragu, vječno
nasmijanog, predusretljivog i ljubaznog
čovjeka. U njemu bješe tuge skrivene u
osmejku, te nečeg praznog, promašenog i
povrijeđenog - samo šta? - za to stvarno
nije imao niti vremena, niti strpljenja,
nitinekog jačeg razloga.
Daut Arfadžan ugleda iznad sebe, na
prozoru, Dragu koji mu je namigivao
okrenutog leđima učenicima i koji je
diskretno pokazivaona ručni sat dajući
mu time do znanja da je još samo malo
ostalo do kraja nastave i da će njih
dvoji-ca otići nekamo.
Kamo?
Nekamo. Najvjerovatnije u kafanu?
353
Sead Mahmutefendić
Daut se napregnu da mu se osmjehne.
On tako nespretno i ljupko žmirnu s oba
oka u znak da ga je razumio. Ne bi se
sad mogao sjetiti naslova tog filma. Ko
će tu svu gomilu naslova popamtiti? Zna
samo toliko da je glavna glumica imala
jajoliko, pjegavo lice.
Čovjek živi među ljudima. Sve je
uljudno, svi se uza-jamno poštuju.
Izražavaju jedni drugima ljubav, a iza
toga odigrava se u čovjeku njegova drama
straha pred usamljenošću i briga koga
kakav će mu biti strah. Pristojnost i
ljupkost na licima, a grozota u duši i
srcu. Zbilja, neukusno i od Boga i od
đavola.
Dauta napusti privremena obamrlost,
te on napreže svoje tijelo i duh da se 354
Suze Dauta Arfadžana konačno udalji s tog mjesta. Isti čas,
kad krenu ka raskršću, odakle bješe
maloprije došao, pri-mijeti u daljini
direktora Zlojutra kako gega puteljkom
prema školi sa sklopljenim rukama na
zadnjici.
Samo mi on još treba, pomisli
Daut.
Praveći se da ga nije vidio, on sa
strane naskoči na stubište ispred
ulaznih vrata, prebaci se preko željezne
ograde te, pritisnuvši veliku mesinganu
kvaku, otvori vrata i uđe u školsko
predvorje. Na velikom satu, u pročelju
hodnika, nedostajalo je nekoliko minuta
do dvanaest.
Ugleda čistačicu. Pogled je imala
pospan od dijabetesa. U rukama je nosila
355
Sead Mahmutefendić
praznu kantu i metlu. On je pozdravi a
ona mu ne odzdravi.
- Ne čuje - reče za sebe.
Preskačući odjednom po dva
stepenika, uspe se na sprat i uđe u
zbornicu. Tu ne bješe nikog. Za nekoliko
minuta zvoniće za kraj časa. Tačno kad
bude podne. Dotle će se izgubiti.
Zlojutro će za to vrijeme dogegati do
svoje kancelarije koja je u prizemlju.
On nema običaj da prvo navrati u
zbornicu. Šta ako ga je maloprije
primijetio da je pobjegao od njega te mu
je već zamjerio za takvo njegovo
infantilno ponašanje. Ne mari, neka
misli što god hoće. Ne bi imao živaca
slušati priče o Njegošu, njegovom
vlastitom projektu o izgradnji mauzoleja 356
Suze Dauta Arfadžana Njegoša ili, pak, zaključcima Desetog
kongresa SKJ gdje se poseban akcent
stavlja na vaspitanje i obrazovanje
mladih generacija.
- Zato, moj rođače Daute, pamet u
glavu i pazi što pred djecom govoriš -
upozoravao ga je Zlojutro - Deseti
kongres je jasno zacrtao kako treba
nadgledati nastavnike u njihovom
odgovornom radu s omladinskom
populacijom. I još jedno - unosio mu se
u uho. - Zapamti, ovo ti govorim ko svom
djetetu: U svakom razredu ima neko koji
zapisuje tvoje riječi. Zato pamet u
glavu i obuzdaj jezik. Bolje je šutiti i
čitati novine, nego svašta trabunjati,
ovo ne bi ni djetetu svom rekao. Mislim,
jesmo li se sfatili?
357
Sead Mahmutefendić
Daut žmirnu i pogleda oko sebe.
Imenici, grafoskopi po ormarima, satnica
u nekoliko vrsta boja, rasturene novine,
knjige po policama, isprevrtani
fildžani, neki i izvrnuti po bakarnim
tacnama čekaju na odmoru nečije gatanje,
odnosno udvaranje, u dnu stola - tamo
gdje je Ratkovo i Grujino mjesto -
nekoliko figura na šahovskoj ploči,
rasturene stolice odmaknute od stola,
Titova slika na zidu i na kuhalu skoro
sva iskuhala voda u ogromnoj džezvi za
kafu na sljedećoj pauzi.
Stoji on nasred zbornice, a zapravo
ni ne zna zbog čega je on u ovoj
sobetini, u ovoj zgradurini, u ovoj
mjesturini, pa ni u ovom životu, i kome
on, u stvari, uopće i treba? Tužno i
358
Suze Dauta Arfadžana smješno da tužnije i smješnije ne može
ni biti. Ili je tužno i smješno što ja
ovako mislim ili mi se tužnim i smješnim
čini što mi je tužno i smiješno?
Pri tom nije pokazivao nikakvo
iznenađenje što na ovaj način osluškuje
svoj glas iznutra. Čak uhvati sebe da ga
s nekom vrstom svečanog respekta
osluškuje i biva ganut zbog toga.
To ga natjera na smiješak.
16.
Za vrijeme vožnje Daut Arfadžan je
govorio vrlo šaljivo. Milena je sjedila
za upravljačem. On je pričao slikovito o
svom ocu s masu zanimljivih digresija,
koje je svaki čas ubacivao u svoj
uzbudljiv monolog uz lamatanje ruku i359
Sead Mahmutefendić
bezbrojne gestikulacije što je kod
Milene izazivalo salve smijeha. S
ponosom je ustanovila da je takav bio u
vrijeme njihovih prvih viđenja i
upoznavanja. Rijetki su bili trenuci kad
je on dozvoljavao sebi toliku slobodu da
otvoreni i s nekom vrstom nezdravog
uzbuđenja priča o očevim ćudima i
karakteru, jer se činilo da malo
nedostaje pa da se ta njegova izvanredna
raspoloženja iznenada ne pretvore u
samoprezir ako bi naslutio ili umislio
da ga time omalo-važava onaj koji ga
sluša i koji mu se smije. U takvim
prilikama, smatrao je on, svi mu se
moraju smijati, a isto-vremeno, neka se
dobro čuva onaj ko ozbiljno ne shvaća
njegov podsmijeh svemu onome što ga
360
Suze Dauta Arfadžana njegova vulkanska fantazija i neobuzdana
narav razgolićuje. Nije bilo govora da
to neko shvati kao njegovu lakrdiju. Ako
bi baš došlo dotle, on bi tad pravio
duge, dosadne, moralizirajuće repli-ke,
nastojeći objasniti zbog čega je
maloprije nešto htio reći. Uglavnom,
njegov sud se toliko polarizirao da bi
on činio sve veće i besmislenije
grimase, bez prestanka govorio ne
dozvoljavajući nikom da dođe do riječi,
živo mlatarao rukama. Onaj koji ga je
poznavao uviđao je tad da je neumje-sno
bilo mu čime proturječiti nekom
upadicom. Daut bi se nekontrolisano
počeo ponašati, padati najprije u
nezdrav zanos koji je često mirisao na
početak histerije. Potom bi došla
rezignacija i jaka depresija, koja je361
Sead Mahmutefendić
obično završava-la ljutnje što je uopće
započinjao s travestijom. Poslije toga
se kleo u sve svetinje na svijetu da će
samo šutiti u ljudskom društvu i da ga
ni Bog neće nagovoriti da progovori
riječ, a kamoli da nasmijava ove
“božjake” i poslije da da-nima očajava
što se dao kao navesti na tanak led.
Da li njemu te priče služe kao
sklonište od velikog jada?
Uviđao je da nije smio dozvoliti da
ovako lako upadne u sopstvenu zamku.
Izgledao je samom sebi pomalo
djetinjasto i luckasto. Već pola sata
Daut je Mileni brbljao o svom ocu kao
čestitom čovjeku.
362
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Ne, ne, ja njemu kažem: Stari, ti
imaš nešto od Muhameda Pejgambera a.s.
- Ako misliš da slušam o tvom ocu,
onda mi radnije ne pričaj ništa -
prigovori mu Milena. - On je kino od
čovjeka i možeš mi o njemu pričati samo
kao o kinu. Hajde bježi tamo, oženiti se
tri mjeseca nakon ženine smrti. Odakle
mu takav želudac?
- To je njegova privatna stvar -
pokuša ga Daut braniti.
On istog časa odusta od pokušaja
bilo kakvog daljnjeg objašnjavanja. U
isto vrijeme osjeti val ljutine. Pokuša
izbrojati do deset. Badava. Nastavi
brojati do dvadeset, pa onda produži do
trideset. Uskoro će stići i do sto. U
nervoznoj tišini samo se čulo drndanje
363
Sead Mahmutefendić
motora. Onaj val bješe pomalo splasnuo.
Sad bi, međutim, najradije izišao iz
auta.
Kiša lije u mlazevima. Brisači
jedva uspjevaju otkloni-ti vodu sa
stakla. magla se hvata iznutra. Milena
povuče ručicu za grijanje.
- Hoćeš da te zamijenim? - ponudi
se Daut.
- Taman bi još to trebala - reče
ona bijesno. - Zar ne vidiš da si
cvrcnut od vinjaka? Ti si jedino
raspoložen kad se njega naližeš.
- Ja sam pijan od tebe - reče on
cereći se.
On načini pokret koji se Mileni
učini kao da će prebaciti ruku preko
364
Suze Dauta Arfadžana nje. Ona se trže, odiže desnu ruku s
upravljača da se odbrani od njegovog
zagrljaja. Ona ga ni na čas ne pogleda.
On joj vidje iz profila lice koje je
ispoljavalo hladno isčuđavanje. Time mu
je jasno davala do znanja da mu
uskraćuje pogled, ruku, rame, riječ. Ne
smanjujući brzinu, jurila je dalje.
Svu njegovu pažnju zaokupi takvo
njeno ponašanje prema njemu. Ono ga je
još više sramotilo i unižavalo pred njom
i sobom, zbog čega on osjeti da ga
obuzima takva divljačka čulnost kojoj
neizostavno ovaj put mora udovoljiti.
Uzdignutih ruku, koje je morao
nešto savinuti zbog nizine krova, te
razjapljenih usta, on se na silu
grohotom nasmije. U tom smijehu ona
365
Sead Mahmutefendić
nasluti da se počinju miješati svi
elementi nečeg nezdravog kojeg se ona, i
pored svoje sve češće kapricioznosti,
uvijek bojala. Pred njom se ukazaše
scene pakla, glasni krici i kuknjave, te
je malo nedostajalo da se ne
onesvijesti. Imala je toliko vremena da
vidi kako se auto uspe do vrha. Sad se
već pomalo počeo naginjati i kliziti niz
strmu cestu koja je išla u nedogled.
- Lena, moramo - dahtao joj je na
uho i zavlačio joj ruku pod suknju.
- Zgnječit ćemo dijete!
- Paziću - reče on falsetom. -
Odgurni se nogama da odmaknemo sjedište
kako nam volan ne bi smetao.
- Prvo da zaustavimo - reče ona.
366
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Nećemo, neka se sam zaustavi
gdje hoće - govorio je on sav u vatri.
- Ko će upravljati? - upita ona.
- Ja, i to guzicom. Ti miješaj i
držat ćemo pravac. Vidio sam da cesta
taman toliko vijuga.
Prije nego je opkorači, on zgrabi
sa sjedišta punu šaku karamela s
neotklonjenim celofanom i sve joj sasu u
razja-pljena usta. “Na, žderi to zajedno
sa papirom!” - reče joj sav uspaljen.
- Porcheria! - gunđala je ona.
- Jesi li ti spuzigaća?
- Jesam, dragi.
- Jesi li ti korica za moju
sablju?
- Jesam, dragi.
- Jesi li ti stoka?367
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Ja sam tvoja krava.
- Zašto imaš izraz mučenika?
- Ne seri, već radi svoj posao.
- Gledaš li u cestu?
- Posvijetliću ti farovima.
- To su reflektori.
- Je li mučim?
- Izmišljaj mi svakojake muke.
Daut se pomjeri da mu bude ugodniji
položaj, a i da ne bi joj suviše stomak
pritiskao.
- Upravljaš li?
- Upravljam - odgovori ona -
Upravljaš li ti?
- Upravljam.
On guzom pritisnu sirenu. Oboje se
od toga zakocenuše od smijeha, kojeg
368
Suze Dauta Arfadžana neko vrijeme nisu mogli uošte obuzdati.
A onda, najednom, onse sjeti njenog
maloprijašnjeg izraza lica iz profila,
njenog hladnog čuđenja. Pojavi se onaj
isti val, te on shvati da će jedino
pobijediti ako bude u ovom jači, pa
makar ne bi bio ni u čemu u pravu. kako
doći do tog trijumfa? Izluđivati stalno
tog vraga pod sobom kako bi se došlo do
priznanja?
Bijes je u njemu sve više bujao,
razlivao se po njemu i vitlao mu razum u
mahnitoj igri odnoseći ga u nebesne
visine, u Kaos u kojem se više nije
mogao orijentisati gdje se nalazi. Tek
sad nije imao pojma gdje je vrh a gdje
je podnožje. Htio je sav ući u nju i
nikad se više otamone vratiti. Znao je
369
Sead Mahmutefendić
da se ova želja ne može nikad ispuniti
dok je god bio običan jahač, nenaoružan
i na konju bez vatrenih krila.
Sve se najednom rasprslo u tisuću
komadića. Elementi su bljeskali oko
njih. otac je sjedio za stolom i igrao
šah sa samim sobom. Kad god bi povukao
potez i sjenka je hvatala za figuru da
povuče potez. Čim bi figuru ispustio i
sjenka bi to isto učinila. Začudo,
uvijek je na kraju pred nevi-dljivim
protivnikom s pionom više izlazio. S
njim bi žurio prema zadnjem kvadratu
ivikao: “Kraljicu!”. Zatim, kvadrat po
kvadrat stiskao je u ugao protivničkog
kralja. Na kraju, u potpunoj tišini, dok
je Daut zurio ispod stola u njegove
slonovske noge, gore iznad, odjeknula bi
370
Suze Dauta Arfadžana lupa figure po drvenoj, lakiranoj
površini i čuo bi se svečan i ponosan
glas: “Šah i mat!”
Motor se ugasio a automobil bješe u
jarku. Prsnulo u uglu staklo na
vjetrobranu. Nekoliko metara ispred
ležao je čovjek. Sve je to Daut nijemo
posmatrao preko ramena.
Milena ga stade gurati sa sebe.
Širom rastvorenih očiju, rasklopi one
svoje dvije tanke usnice. Daut ih je
posmatrao.
- Je li istina da je uvijek ista
dužina usana i usmina? - upita on.
Ona je šutila. Razrogačenim očima
dade mu znak na čovjeka što je ležao
nepokretan nedaleko od auta.
371
Sead Mahmutefendić
Tri-četvrt sata kasnije, milicijski
“tristać” zaustavi se ispred njih.
Sirena umuknu, svjetla su još ostala
bljeskati. Čovjek bješe prekriven žutom
dekom.
Daut iziđe iz auta. Milena ostade
sjediti na mjestu za suvozača.
- Dobro veče - službeno ga
pozdravi milicionar.
- Dobro veče - metalno odjeknu
Dautov pozdrav.
- Dajte mi vaše vozne isprave.
Daut pruži knjižicu. Milicionar
zagleda u ime i prezime.
- Daut Arfadžan?
- Da.
- Ovo je vaše vozilo?
372
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Da.
- Vi ste vozili?
- Da.
Na ostatak pitanja, Daut je
mehanički odgovarao. Jedino što je znao
u tom trenutku je da mora trpiti i
svojski primati ova neugodna pitanja,
odgovarati što staloženije da bi gonioce
što više odvojio od Milene i učinio
svoju žrtvu veličanstvenijom. Na sva
pitanja odgovarao je ravnodušno, mada je
osjećao - odasvud - od tog milicionara,
od njegovog ravnodušnog glasa, od
njegovog svježe izbrijanog lica, od
talky walkya koji se čuo iz njegovog
auta, od vrhova nijeme planine nekakva
surova i ubistvena prijetnja. Zbog svoje
glume, žrtvujući se zbog svoje bremenite
373
Sead Mahmutefendić
žene, osjećao je pobožno dostojanstvo
zbog zahvalnosti za intimni odnos koji
mu je priuštila Milena. Nikako to nije
mogao smetnuti sebi s uma.
17.
Unaprijed je znao da ništa neće
vrijediti bilo što da poduzme. Prvo na
žalbu rezignirano je odbacio. Tu stvar
mogao je mirne duše smatrati okončanom.
Čim je čuo da ide u zatvor, iskoristio
je ono nekoliko slobodnih dana da bar
prokljuvi u osnove jiu-jitse, boksa i
karatea - neka se nađe za svaki slučaj.
navečer je, kao neki klinjo, sa
sportskom torbom u ruci odlazio lokalnim
autobusom u susjedni velegrad do jednog
studentskog kluba. Obaveza prema nastavi
374
Suze Dauta Arfadžana više nije imao. Prekid posla bijaše samo
formalnost i on bješe u toku pošto je
osuđen na četiri godine. Zakon je
opraštao samo onim ispod šest mjeseci.
Tip, kojeg mu bjehu dodijelili, da
mu daje poduku, imao je gadno i rohavo
lice. S očiju nije skidao crne naočari u
kojima bi Daut ponekad popravljao kosu.
Duž lijevog obraza pružao mu se kao prst
debeo ožiljak. Imao je tamnu, azijatsku
put. I faca mu bješe takva kao da je
nikad nije provirivao iz zatvora. Kao da
su mu samo na trenutak pustili da mu
dadne tečajčić iz nekoliko trikova,
mislio je Daut s osjećajem smisla da
prilično preuveličava stvar. Gledao je
sebe ravno u tipovim naočarima.
375
Sead Mahmutefendić
Ovako izgledaju direktni protivnici
Dicku Tigeru u finalu obaju verzija,
pomisli Daut. I WBA i WBC. Još otprije
je smatrao da tog crnog momka bijelci
mogu posmatrati jedino iza konopaca ili
iz žablje perspektive.
Poduku je plaćao dvadeset
hiljadarki na sat. Svaki dan on se
propisno osafunjao u kimonu po sat i
pol, što mu je za deset dana odnijelo
cijele tri skupštine. Ako se to
preračuna u dolare, dođe mu da ga je po
novom tečaju ovaj školetak stajao
dvjesta dolara. S tom lovom Muhamedu
Aliju ne bi dali ni priviriti u dvoranu.
Zato je on oduvijek smatrao da je Juga
Amerika ili, bolje reći, da je Amerika
Juga. Zavisi iz kojeg se ugla posmatra
376
Suze Dauta Arfadžana problem - antisocijalističkog ili
antikapitalističkog.
Nakon deset dana svršio je tečaj.
njegov učitelj, po svemu sudeći, nije
bio baš očaran Dautovim rukatanjem i
nogatanjem, koji je više ličio na balet
iz kineske kulturne revolucije. Jedino
bješe dobro i tečno naučio galamiti na
japanskom, i to toliko dobro da je
jednom, najozbiljnije pomisio da čim
iziđe iz zatvora trkne do Japana i
dovrši s tamošnjim jezikom. Zvučno je
izbacivao masu zraka iz sebe. Na kraju,
nikad nije zaboravljao učiniti ritualni,
zenovski naklon svom učitelju. Uz one
krike, to bješe najbolje savladao. Te
dvije stvari vrijedile su onih dvjesta
dolara.
377
Sead Mahmutefendić
Tip je neodređeno i odsutno klimao
glavom kao da mu ona i ne pripada kad se
Daut usudi jednom ga upitati vrijedi li
im što ovaj posao. Nije mu baš bilo
zgodno otvoreno reći da je već prvi sat
digao ruke od njega. Samo zato što ga
nesre-tnika čeka ćuza, nije mu htio
pokvariti to zadovoljstvo niti mu htjeti
reći da je - što se tiče tabanja -
totalni duduk.
Svi su bili izgledi da je to znao i
sam Daut, te i pored svega bio mu je
zahvalan na toj iskrenosti. Preostalo mu
je da ga zamoli da mu se potpiše na neku
njihovu diplo-micu da on, Daut Arfadžan,
vlada istočnjačkim, borilačkim
vještinama.
378
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Onom tipu se taj prijedlog učini
toliko prostodušnim i simpatičnim da se,
pored svega, od srca nasmija. Bilo je to
prvi put otkako ga je Daut upoznao. Taj
mu se osmijeh nikako nije učinio
zlobnim. On mu još jednom napomenu da ga
uskoro čeka zatvor, da je zbog toga
isključen s posla, te da bi mu taj
papirić sigurno zlata vrijedio u onom
smrdljivom kavezu.
Kad to ču, onaj tip se uozbilji.
Izgleda da ga se dojmila Dautova priča.
On ga upita s takvim povjerenjem kao da
je u pitanju neki njegov stari
prijatelj: “Jesi li nekog zgazio,
silovao ili si nešto maznuo?”
Tip presječe ispruženim dlanom
vazduh. Daut klimnu glavom.
379
Sead Mahmutefendić
Tip skide pisaću mašinu s ormara.
Iz štosa diploma izvadi jednu i gurnu je
unutra. Kažiprstom je tražio slova po
tipkama.
- Kol’ko si dobio? - upta ga.
- Čet’ri.
Za Dauta bješe pravo zadovoljstvo
posmatrati kako samo uspjeva ne zakačiti
po dvije-tri tipke istovremeno. Sjeti se
Šopena i njegovih koštunjavih prstiju.
- Gadno će ti biti - reče tip
stavljajući svoj potpis. Iz fioke izvadi
pečat. Huknu u njega i snažnoga pritisnu
na papir.
- Evo ti! - pruži mu on diplomu.
- S ovim sranjem možeš samo da blefiraš
seronje. Prave dase će te propisno
380
Suze Dauta Arfadžana išarati, jer oni ne jebu nikakve papire.
Oni tek na njih popizde. zapamti da ne
ideš u vrtić među djecu, već među ološ
od kojih bar polovica ima kvocijent
inteligencije manji od sto. Tamo ćeš
sresti stado idiota koji bi za dvije
banke ubili rođenu mater.
- Hvala vam na diplomi - nakloni
se Daut.
- Što se tiče diplome, mogao sam
ti potpisati da imaš crni pojas sedmog
dana, mada bi tebe prebio čovjek bez
ruku i nogu. Ti sa sobom u bajbok ponesi
sedžadu te se moli svom Alahu da živ
izađeš iz njega.
Prilično skrhan, iziđe Daut iz
klupske kancelarije mada je u ruci nosio
uvjerenje da je nosilac braon pojasa u
381
Sead Mahmutefendić
karateu. Neko vrijeme stajao je
neodlučno na kolniku jedne sporedne
uličice. Kraj table čekao je na autobus.
Nije mu se išlo kući. Mislio je da će,
ako se bude izgubio u gomili ljudi, biti
nešto lakše, te da će mu to donijeti
kakav-takav zaborav od mučnih misli što
su ga počele spopadati. Iz kante za
otpatke izvadi svjež smotuljak novina.
Po datumu vidje da su današnje. Dvadeset
i peti je dan mjeseca studenog
tisućudevetstosedamdesettreće godine. na
prvoj strani je fotografija Predsjednika
Skupštine SFRJ. SJEĆANJE KAO ISPIT. DODELJENE
NAGRADE AVNOJ-a. NAREDBA VRHOVNOG
KOMANDANTA ORUŽANIH SNAGA SFRJ POVODOM
DANA REPUBLIKE. OČEKUJEMO OD EVROPE DA
PREISPITA SVOJE ODNOSE S ARAPSKOM NACIJOM.
382
Suze Dauta Arfadžana POKRET OTPORA JE JEDINI PREDSTAVNIK PALESTINACA.
RIBIČIĆ PRIMIO MAKOVESKUA. TITOVA ČESTITKA
PREDSJEDNIKU MAURITANIJE DADAHU.
On dolje poročita ovogodišnje
dobitnike AVNOJ-eve nagrade. Još jednom
zaustavi pogled na datumu. Do odlaska u
zatvor bješe mu ostalo svega pet dana.
Ču brektanje autobusa uz uličicu.
Krajem sedamdesetsedme biću na
slobodi. Današnji mladići dobiće tad
AVNOJ-a.
Uđe na zadnja vrata. Pođe ka
sredini. Putnici su još ulazili. U tom
trenutku pade mu na um da bi ipak bilo
pametnije otići kući. Motor je brektao u
leru. Kroz vjetrobransko staklo ugleda
ženu, koja je u trku davala vozaču znak
da je sačeka. Pogleda Daut u ugao
383
Sead Mahmutefendić
stakla, jer mu se učini na tren da je
ono tu puklo i da je za upravljačem onaj
isti čovjek kojeg je on prekrio žutom
dekom prije dolaska milicije. U tom
trenutku, prednja vrata se otvoriše da
propuste zadihanu ženu.
Šta ću ja među ljudima?
On potrča prema raskriljenim
vratima, te izleti na pločnik
preskočivši oba stepenika u jednom
skoku.
18.
I tako dođe do onog do čega je već
jednom morao doći. Prije kratkog vremena
javiše Dautu da će uskoro isteći njegova
kazna, čega se on pomalo i pribojavao,
384
Suze Dauta Arfadžana mada je često zamišljao da je ona toliko
daleko da se ima dovoljno vremena kako
bi se na miru moglo razmisliti o svemu
onom što dolazi nakon nje. Uostalom, o
nekom konkretnom planu nije moglo bitini
govora. Još prilikom prvog posjeta,
Milena mu je saopćila da je od škole
dobila dopis o prestanku radnog odnosa
na osnovu izrečene kazne.
Bilo je to poetkom siječnja
tisućudevetstotinasedamde-setčetvrte,
samo nekoliko dana nakon što je prvi put
proveo novogodišnje praznike van svoje
kuće. Blijedosivo nebo bješe pritislo
dolinu u kojoj se nalazio zatvor. U prvo
vrijeme, ta ga je slika prilično
uznemiravala. Jdnom je čak pomislio da
ga ona može uskoro stasvim izluditi.
385
Sead Mahmutefendić
Noću je osjećao nelagodu. Kasnije ga je
to isto osjećanje stalo proganjati i
danju.
Često se budionoću. Tišina. Mrak.
Čuje neke čudne zvu-kove. Kao da to šume
morski valovi? On pogleda dolje. Nema
ništa vidjeti osim komada dvorišta,
topolovog lišća što treperi na vjetru i
gore žarulje na banderi na kojoj se
iskri kiša što rominja.
Gdje sam ja i gdje ja to stojim?
Svojom voljom.
Ujutro je vidio zabjeljeno
dvorište. Vani je, u kratkim prekidima,
padao snijeg. U toku iduće noći bješe
toliko napadao da je počeo stvarati
neprilike. Zbog toga uputiše slijedećeg
386
Suze Dauta Arfadžana jutra grupe zatvorenika da očiste cestu
od silnih nanosa.
Drugi dani se ni po čemu nisu
razlikovali od ostalih, osim po nekakvoj
svijesti da je ipak bliži dan kad će se
izići iz ove odvratne rupe. Daut je
pored sobom imao četiri puta po dvanaest
mjeseci. Ne bješe prošao ni prvi krug.
Bez zazora i poštovanja prema ostalim
uzatvoru, on će stalno biti okupiran
mišlju o bezumnoj kazni koja ga je
zadesila. Gdje je tu ispaštanje krivice,
pitao se on s gorčinom. Ja sjedim ovdje
da bih okajao svoj grijeh ili vratio
svoj dug, čeprkam po moralu, dok pravi
krivac sjedi kući i tješi me da će ipak,
na koncu konca, i ovo sretno završiti.
387
Sead Mahmutefendić
Daut Arfadžan je nazivao to
uslugom, mada mu je izgledalo da je to
učinio više zbog sebe nego zbog nje. On
zaista nije imao ništa protiv ovog svog
nečuvenog čina, već je pak samo htio
ponekad da nestane - toliko se znao
sažaliti nad svojom sudbinom. Toj
okolnostimorala se dodati činjenica da
se odmah nakon završetka suđenja
pronijela vijest kako se advokat
Valentin Ham ponio kao prava hulja. Mada
je na vrijeme bio upoznat s pravim
stanjem stvari, on se u tom suđenju nije
ni potrudio izvući iz tog fakta kakvu
olakšavajuću okolnost zadržavajući i
dalje za sebe i sud diskreciono pravo
obrane. On je, dapače, protiv svih lo-
gičkih predpostavki, u koje su polagali
388
Suze Dauta Arfadžana nadu njegovi štiće-nici, držao se
prilično indiferentno kao da se ta stvar
njega nimalo ne tiče.
Takvo držanje vrijeđalo je Dautov
ponos i umanjivalo njegovu žrtvu. Samo
ga je prisebnost, te osjećanje
nesebičnosti natjeralo da ne uzvikne
pred sucem kako je on u cijeloj ovoj
stvari nevin. Ne baš apsolutno, ali nije
izravan krivac pješakove smrti, već -
eto - želi spasiti trudnu suprugu od
neugodnih maltretiranja koje bi, vjero-
jatno, bile uzrokom neželjenih
posljedica po plod. Sve se to događalo u
sali protiv njegove želje i volje, a
ipak, on je sve to izdržao radi svog
dostojanstva, koje je naraslo u njegovim
očima do neslućenih razmjera.
389
Sead Mahmutefendić
Milena je za svo vrijeme suđenja
sjedila u drugom redu. Ako je išta
smetalo Dautu, bio je to njen način
držanja, koji je prije podsjećao da
sjedi na nekakvoj modnoj reviji nego da
je u pitanju nesebična žrtva njenog
supruga. Ona je sjedila u društvu Vande
i Drage. Sve troje ponašali su se kao
najobičniji provincijski diletanti.
Milena će se, kasnije kleti Dautu u
vrijeme prve posjete da je on sve to
uvrtio u svoju paranoidnu pamet a da je
prava istina da je ona tih dana
pretrpila lakši nervni slom, samo ga
nije htjela tim opterećivati. Čim je
čula za tu Dautovu neopreznu primjedbu,
ona mu plačući reče da je on nezahvalan
prema njoj i ona nema više snage boriti
390
Suze Dauta Arfadžana se protiv toga. To će biti razlog što se
dijete uopće neće spomenuti. Gledali su
jedno drugom u prste ruku kao dva
stranca i jedva čekali da dođe kraj
posjeti. Uskoro zvono zazvoni.
Ona se pozvala na to da se njen
plač orio u sudnici pošto su ga
milicionari izveli iz dvorane. On je
šutio. Najprije je osmotrio njene prste,
a onda mu pogled pao na stomak i tu se
zaustavio. Nije se usudio povesti
razgovor o tome. Jeza ga je podilazila
kad se sjetio da je unutra živ čovjek,
koji će prekosutra razgovarati s njim i
optuživati ga kao i većina djece da je
nazadan i da ne razumije mađu
generaciju. Ona je, pak, mislila kako te
njene suze iz sudnice nisu ostavile
391
Sead Mahmutefendić
nikakav utisak na njega. Ona htjede
nešto reći. Istovremeno, zausti i on.
Umjesto toga, oboje odmahnuše rukom. Šta
si mislio reći?” - upita ga ona. “Ništa”
- odgovori on. “Kako ništa?” - činilo se
da bi se mogla uvrijediti. “Tako, ništa”
- odgovori on ne baš ljubazno.
“Dosadno”. “Baš dosadno?” - upita ona
rezignirano. “Strašno dosadno” - reče
on. “Onda ja odoh kad ti je strašno
dosadno” - kaže ona. “Idi ako hoćeš” -
mirno odgovori on.
Gledali su jedno drugom u sve, osim
očiju. Samo se jednom kratko susretoše.
Njene su oči bile pune suza. On poželi
da i on zarida. Nije mogao. Ponos mu,
valjda, nije dozvoljavao, mada se sav
tresao od tuge. Gledali su jedno u drugo
392
Suze Dauta Arfadžana kao dva stranca i osjećali su da se sav
svijet ruši oko njih. Jedva su čekali da
dođe kraj posjeti. Uskoro zvono opomenu
posjetioce i zatvorenike.
Istina je da će njegova Leda uskoro
imati četiri godine i teško je suditi da
bi jedan ovakav izuzetan porodični
incident mogao proći bez suvišnih
podsjećanja na protekli period. Leda
Arfadžan je stajala pod neposrednim
nadzorom svoje majke. Nijednom je
Milena, za vrijeme svojih posjeta Dautu,
nije dovodila sa sobom, već bi je
ostavljala svojoj majci na čuvanje. I
Dautova uviđavnost najčešće je išla
dotle da se ni sam nije usuđivao
preporučiti joj kako bi želio vidjeti
djevojčicu, mada se bezbroj puta zaricao
393
Sead Mahmutefendić
da će to od nje prvom prilikom
zahtijevati. A kad bi se Milena pojavila
pred otvorom za razgovore, u njemu bi
isti čas isparila svaka odvažnost i
rješenost da i to stavi na dnevni red
njihovog razgovora. Tada bi on našao za
izliku da se ta stvar, zasada, može i
odložiti, za neko zgodnije vrijeme. A i
nezgodno je da malo dijete dolazi ocu u
zatvor. Zašto bi joj morao ostati prvi
susret s njim u mučnoj uspomeni? Ovdje
tako smrdi i zatvorenici imaju luđačke
oči. Leda bi se mogla prepasti. To
Milena zna, pa je i ne dovodi. Ovaj put
neću joj ništa reći o tome. Drugi put -
možda? Najvjerovatnije.
19.
394
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Pažljivijem oku vjerojatno nije
mogla promaći iz vida njegova zbunjenost
i ošamućenost činjenicom što je trebao
ponovno preuzeti ulogu supruga. Uz to,
već tri godine bijaše navodni otac
ljupkoj djevojčici s plavim kovrčama,
što su joj padale mimo ušiju. Ona mu je
tog dana širom otvorila vrata stana.
prvo je ustuknula pred strancem.
Nanišanivši razrogačenim očima u
nepoznatog čovjeka, ona ga mazno i
ljupko upita koga treba. Zbog te njene
rečenice, Daut se morao rukom pridržati
za stativ vrata nastojeći da time ne
naruši ravnotežu i prisebnost duha, a i
da ne uplaši djevojčicu nečim
nepredviđenim što bi u njoj izazvalo
strah da je, možda pred njom nekakav
395
Sead Mahmutefendić
pijanac, koji je došao da od bake išće
para.
U njenim očima pokuša pronaći sebe,
a onda, odmah nakon toga, iskreno i s
prezirom uputi sebi prijekor: “Idiote!”
Pred sobom je konačno imao malog,
ljupkog stvora na kojim je on u zatvoru
sebe do ludila mučio.
Dijete se prepade od njegovog
pogleda te otrča u kuhinju s očiglednom
namjerom da nekog dozove. Čuo je kako
ono uplašenim i zapuhanim glasom tamo
nekom govori da je neki nepoznati čiko
na njihovim ulaznim vratima.
- Koga tražite? - čuo je da pita
stariji ženski glas. Milenina majka,
pomisli on.
396
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Kuhinjsak vrata se otvoriše. Njih
dvoje sretoše se pogledima. Iza bakine
haljine uplašeno i radoznalo izviri-vala
je djevojčica.
Daut Arfadžan nije volio takve
scene. Ni na filmu, ni u životu - nigdje
- osobito ako su one pričinjavale nekom
bol, a činilo mu se da će se to, upravo,
sad njemu dogoditi. Samo što mu na oči
nisu navrle suze od stida pred tim
djetetom. Osjećao je da podrhtaje i boji
se od onog što će mu prvo reći i kako će
ono primiti to što bude prvo čulo od
njega. On zakorači u hodnik. Spusti se
na stoličicu na kojoj se obuvaju cipele.
Punica pruži ruku iznad njega. Kvrcu
prekidačem. Slaba svijetlost s lustera
cijedila se toliko da se ljudi i stvari
397
Sead Mahmutefendić
primjećuju i razaznaju. Žena je šutila.
On je, takođe, šutio. Djevojčica je
buljila u nepoznatog čiku držeći se i
dalje s dva prstića za bakinu haljinu.
- Kako se ti zoveš? - upita je
Daut.
- Leda Alfađan - odgovori
djevojčica.
- Imaš lijepo ime - reče Daut. -
Ko ti je dao tako lijepo ime?
- Mama i tata - odgovori ona.
- Milena nije kući? pogleda Daut
u punicu. Osjeti kako mu bilo lupa na
vratu.
- Nije - tiho odgovori žena.
- Znala je da ću doći - upita
Daut.
- Nije znala. 398
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Daut Arfadžan se nije želio
upuštati sad u detalje, te je škrto i
pomalo rasijano pitao nešto u vezi s
djevojčicom, njenom poslušnošću, njenim
jedenjem i njenim zdravljem. Ona je,
također, odgovarala općeniti i odsutno,
kratko, samo na ono što je on pitao. To
ga je moralo začuditi obzirom da je
dobro, od ranije, poznavao njenu potrebu
za brbljanjem. Znao je da joj nikad nije
bio pri srcu, ali ga to nikad nije
posebno ni žalostilo, a najmanje da bi
ga spriječilo da bude bezosjećajan i
ravnodušan prema njoj. Njene oči sad su
ga gledale blago i tužno. Zbog toga
osjetiti tu, hladnu jezu punu tjeskobe.
U njega je lagano i mučno prodirala
napetost zbog bolne nepristupačnosti,
koja se vremenom stvori među ljudima,399
Sead Mahmutefendić
pogotovo ako su dugo bili razdvojeni.
Uostalom, on ne dolazi iz škole ili sa
službenog puta; on dolazi nakon četiri
godine provedene u zatvoru. To je već
sad njegova obična konstatacija da je
njegov vlastiti život za svo to vrijeme
proticao samo uzgred, te da je u neku
ruku morao biti zanemaren u nečijoj
svijesti, mada je, bez ikakvog
pretjerivanja, držao sebe za posvećenog
kako banalni život u onoj rupčagi ne bi
bio još otrcaniji i još više izbušen
rupama. Te varljive polupobjede u njemu
pothranjivale su nadu da će kad se vrati
kući naići na dva ženska stvorenja -
odana i s osmijehom. U njemu je ostao
kao kaveni talog refleks puničine
zbunjenosti, koju je tumačio, otprilike,
400
Suze Dauta Arfadžana kao: zar si još tu? - a manje kao
podozrivost radi čega ona ima biti
pribrana pred njim, odnosno, radi čega
ona ima biti zbunjena pred njim, da
crveni i blijedi. Da ne bi sebe
opterećivao suvišnim činjenicama,
odlučio je da sve prepusti slučaju.
Diskretno joj dade rukom znak da bi
želio ostati nasamo s djevojčicom. Za
divno čudo, djevojčica ga se više nije
plašila.
Kad su ostali sami njih dvoje, on
se osmjehnu kćeri što je moguće ljupkije
i dobroćudnije. Mogao je zamisliti kako
je ta ljupkost i dobroćudnost kretenski
izgleda kad se curi-ca isti čas maši
rukom za kvaku da vidi gdje joj je baka.
401
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Hoćeš da se kladimo da znam
kako ti je ime? - pruži Daut ruku prema
njoj.
Ona se malo primiri, ali ipak, za
svaki slučaj, ostavi ruku na kvaci.
- E, ne znaš - kočoperila se ona.
- Ti se zoveš - diže Daut oči ka
plafonu i zakoluta njima, tobože da se
prisjeti. - ti se zoveš... ti se
zoveš... Ida!
- Ti se zoveš Ida - isplazi mu
ona jezik. - Ne zovem se ja Ida.
- Čekaj, čekaj, nemoj me
zbunjivati. Ovako: Ida je tvoja najbolja
prijateljica - reče Daut Arfadžan
upirući prstom u nju.
402
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Nema nikakve Ide - ozbiljno se
zamisli curica.
- Vidiš kakva si ti - preko je
on. - Ti galamiš i ja se ne mogu zbog te
tvoje galame sjetiti. - Znam! Tvoja
najbolja prijateljica zove se,... kako
ono... na vrh mi je jezika...
- Sandla - reče curica.
- Sandra! Jesam li pogodio? -
uzviknu Daut.
Lud je kao i prije, pomisli punica
u kuhinji slušajući razgovor iza vrata.
- Jesi - prizna curica.
- Znam, znam da je Sandra -
Ljutio se Daut na svoje pamćenje. - Hm.
A ti se zoveš Leda, zar ne?
- Jesam - potvrdi djevojčica
glavom.
403
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Kako ti se mama zove?
- Milena.
- A tata?
- Daut.
- Gdje ti je mama?
- Otišla je na put.
- A tata?
- I on je otišao na put.
- Zašto nisu tebe poveli?
- Mala djeca ne putuju.
- Ko to kaže?
- Kaže baka. A tata će meni
donijeti puno pala kad se vlati, pa ću
ja kupiti sladoled kao i Sandla. Sandla
svaki dan kupi sladoled.
Lako je mogao pasti u opasnost da
rekne neku suvišnu riječ. Razumije se,
404
Suze Dauta Arfadžana trebalo je reći: “Leda, ja sam tvoj
tata. Tata se vratio s puta.”
Crv ga nije napuštao. Ako joj i
nije otac, što njih dvoje mogu time
izgubiti? Prevaren, pa šta? ja prevaren,
ona napuštena - upravo zgodna uvertira
da se dosegne metafizika dobra.
Vjerovao je da će time moći izliti
iz sebe izvjesne slutnje što mu je
zadavalo mnogo žalosti i straha pred Le-
dom. Nije bio toliko neuviđavan da s
izvjesnom ironijom ne primijeti kako je
njegova opreznost bila ponajviše
posljedi-ca njegove plašljivosti da ne
ispadne u očima ove selendre jado i
rogonja, a da u isto vrijeme ne sazna
što se, u stvari, zbilja dogodilo za
onih dvadeset dana razlike u Mileninom
405
Sead Mahmutefendić
porođaju i dana kad je računao kad će se
to dogoditi. Sve je on to do u detalje
sračunao u zatvoru.
Još uz to, poznavao je sebe toliko
da prizna svoju taštost, ali ne i
oholost, te da će uskoro izgubiti volju
i snagu da iza svoje ljubaznosti krije
svoju tobožnju blago-naklnost i
lakovjernost uz koje je umišljao da
neminovno idu pomanjkanje predrasuda i
neki neodređeni šarm u ravnodušno-sti i
širokogrudnosti prema vlastitoj žrtvi.
U isti mah, osjeti kako ga s one
stoličice izdiže neki ogromni talas,
ponese ga na sebi i on se nađe u kuhinji
pred Mileninom majkom. Na dnevoj
svijetlosti on tek sad ugleda da su joj
podočnjaci podbuhli, crveni i suzni. 406
Suze Dauta Arfadžana Njih dvoje, izgleda, trebaju se pošteno
i ravno pogledati u oči.
- Čujte vi - čuje on kako neko
umjesto njega izgovara - gdje je Milena?
Hoću da vidim Milenu. Vi dobro znate da
ja nisam kriv za smrt onog nesretnog
čovjeka. Milena je vozila a ne ja. ja
sam se milciji prijavio kao krivac. Ona
me je molila radi male u stomaku. Ona je
vozila a ne ja.
- Daute! Sine... Zete... Nem
Milene!
- Kako to? - osvrnu se on
zbunjeno oko sebe. - Je li se preudala?
Slobodno mi recite, nemojte ništa kriti
od mene. Ja sam u stanju sve... Sve sam
u stanju...
407
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Milena nije živa - s mukom žena
isfrflja.
- Kako nije živa? zgranu se on.
- Lani je umrla - reče žena.
Daut osjeti da ga guši bol u grlu.
- Kako?
- Zbog čega? - inzistirao je on.
- Vi ste, gospodine Arfadžane,
razuman čovjek - reče ona. Zato bih vas
zamolila da me više ne mučite suvišnim
pitanjima, koja ionako ne mogu više
ništa izmijeniti. Njima se mogu oživjeti
neprijatna sjećanja. Ja sam dosta
propatila ovu zadnju godinu dana. Uz to,
čuvala sam vašu kćer do vašeg povratka.
Još sutra, vratit ću se svom mužu.
20. 408
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
O Ledi su se starali Daut i Vanda.
Njoj su se njih dvoje posebno posvetili.
Počeo je time što je Vanda, ubrzo nakon
Dautovog povratkaiz zatvora, otvoreno mu
ponudila svoju pomoć da mu se nađe pri
ruci u čuvanju i njegovanju male Lede.
Što se pak tiče Dauta Arfadžana, on se
još prilično osjećao zbunjenim zbog
okolnosti u kojima se tako nenadano
našao da je u početku morao osjećati
nelagodnost u jednom strogo intimnom
smislu što se nije bio u stanju
prilagoditi ovakvoj novoj situaciji.
Staranje o ledi donijelo je sa
sobom izvjesne promjene, i - Daut nije
imao razloga protiv toga se buniti, već
- naprotiv u izvjesnom smislu morao se
pokazati onakvim kakvim je sebe oduvijek
409
Sead Mahmutefendić
smatrao, a to je - da je on dobar
čovjek.
Vanda i Daut su često izlazili s
malom Ledom u šetnju, izvlačili je iz
njihovog tijesnog stančića, te su svo
troje odlazili prema kraju mjesta odakle
se dolazi do sporednog, zemljanog
puteljka, koji se odvaja od glavne ceste
i skreće prema obližnjoj šumi.
Djevojčica je neprestano nešto zapit-
kivala - čas oca, čas teta Vandu -
zvonkim, simpatičnim glasom.
Živeći ovdje već dvije godine, Daut
je bio bez ikakvih materijalnih
sredstava, izuzimajući nešto, veoma
skromnog, što bi primio kao honorar od
nekog časopisa; a i to je bilo toliko
rijetko da to, doista, nije mogao 410
Suze Dauta Arfadžana smatrati prihodom vrijednog da se
spomene. Da mu nije bilo Vande i njene
pomoći, odavno bi morao nešto valjanije
smisliti od ovog u kojem se svo ovo
vrijeme nalazio.
Mada je Vandina odluka svakog živog
iznenadila i dovodila u ljubopitljivu
nedoumicu, pa čak i samog Dauta, ipak je
ona morala na njega ostaviti utješan
utisak. Bio je veoma sretan, jer je još
uvijek osjećao neku zaostalu privrženost
prema njoj, a koju je on, sve dotad,
smišljeno prikrivao; pa čak bi se moglo
i ustvrditi da ju je i prigušivao s
uvijek jednim te istim bolnim pijetetom
prema njoj. Nerijetko se znalo dogoditi
da je morao, dok sjedi za radnim stolom,
odlagati pero prekidajući pisanje radi
411
Sead Mahmutefendić
odmora, te u nemirnoj besposlici
prisjećao se nekih polu-detalja iz
njihove veze sve dok ne bi zadrhtao
osjećajući u sebi slatku bol koja mu
steže grlo i koja ga čini toliko
usamljenim da mu izgleda kako će se od
nje uskoro sav rasprsnuti.
Najvažnija od svega bila je
činjenica što na Ledi nije primjećivao
nikave promjene koje bi ličile na
prijekor. Daut je bio dirnut takvim
njenim ponašanjem, mada bi se znalo
često dogoditi da pomisli kako je još
suviše rano da se raduje tako smionim i
optimističkim zaključcima, ostavlja-jući
mogućnost da je kćerkina privrženost
prema Vandi vje-rojatno razlog što joj
je sad neophodna i ugodna nečija ruka, a
412
Suze Dauta Arfadžana ne lakoumna privrženost koja se može za
veoma kratko vrijeme izvrši u sasvim
nešto suprotno. No, što je - tu je: onim
što je Daut svakodnevno vido svojim
očima bio je zadovoljan.
Jednog jutra on se probudio veoma
kasno. Vanda već bješe otišla u školu.
Na stolu je ostavila papir s porukom da
će doći tek predveče zbog nekog sastanka
kojeg nije mogla izbjeći.
Dnevnu svjetlost gledao je kroz
razmaknute žaluzine. U potkrovlju su
golubovi gugutali. Neki su se komešali
na prozorskom simsu. Čuli su se koraci
na ulici. Sjeti se Milene. Zapravo,
sjeti se da ju je noćas sanjao. Slike iz
tog sna još su ga mučile i tištale. Ovo
je drugi ili treći put da je sanja.
413
Sead Mahmutefendić
Čudio se zašto mu ona češće ne dolazi u
san. Ovaj put se pošteno namučio.
Jesen je. On šeta po opalom lišću.
Svuda je blato. Grakne vrana. Prava
jesenska slika. Najednom, nebom poleti -
ona! Nije moguće! Milena? ima prava
krila. Raširila ih i leti ravno k njemu.
Kad doleti iznad njega, spusti mu se na
ramena. Vidi - ona je. Lice joj se krivi
u osmješak. Smiješi se. I kljun i oči
joj širom otvoreni. Naročito: oči. On
stoji zbunjen, nepomičan, ukopan u
blatu. Nigdje nikog osim njih dvoje i
gavrana koji stalno odnekud grakne.
Ona mu priđe, uze mu ruku i stisnu
se uz njega. Zagrli ga onim svojim
krilima. Nikad ga nije tako strasno
zagrlila. On primijeti da je u prozirnoj 414
Suze Dauta Arfadžana spavaćici. Ona osta okrenuta sučelice
njemu.
On je zovnu po imenu. Ona se ne
odazva. On ponovi. Osjeti da drhti.
Ona se sad odazva.
- Što se ne odazoveš? - upita je
on.
- Ja se ne zovem više Milena pa
sam zaboravila da sam se tako nekad
zvala - reče ona nekim šištavim glasom.
- ja sam sad Nabrak.
- Nabrak? - šapnu on odsutno. -
Odakle ti takvo čudno ime. Nikad nisam
čuo da postoji takvo ime, a još uz to ne
bi rekao da je to ime za ženu.
- Dali su mi ga moji prijatelji -
reče ona. Divni ljudi. Voljela bih da ih
upoznaš.415
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Ko su ti ljudi? - upita on.
- Mrtvaci kao i ja - odgovori
ona. - Svi mrtvaci su odreda divni.
Ona se bješe nešto malo odmakla od
njega, ali mu ponovo priđe. Rukama mu
obujmi glavu te je privinu k sebi. Ona
mu je smjesti na svoje grudi isto onako
kao što je on to nekad s njenom glavom
činio. On stavi svoju jagodicu u njenu
očnu šupljinu. Tad osjeti na svojoj koži
njene suze.
- Pa ti plačeš? - upita je on.
- Ti to sanjaš - reče mu ona. - Ne
povodi se za snom. Java će biti sasvim
nešto drugo. Tamo te čeka tvoja Vanda.
- Ko je Vanda? - upita je on.
416
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- To je žena koja čuva moju Ledu
- šapnu mu ona gura-jući mu kljun duboko
u uho. - Tako stoje stvari, Daute
Arfadžanu! Možeš mi reći sve a da se ne
moraš opterećivati posljedicama.
Puna mokraćna bešika probudi Dauta.
Škiljnu on jednim okom na hodnik. Na
noćnom stoliću primijeti papirić prislo-
njen na staklenu vazu. Daute, novac je
na frižideru... Kupite... mesni doručak,
paket jaja... sastanku... neću moći...
Vanda.
Iz zahoda je dopirala svjetlost od
žarulje kojeg su po svu noć držali zbog
Lede. Reče sebi da će jednom pokušati
utonuti i izgubiti se u slatkoj
obamrlosti i pospanosti. Ako bi potražio
odbačene papuče, vjerovatno bi mu se
417
Sead Mahmutefendić
dogodilo da se sasvim rasani. Stoga
krenu prema zahodu, žmireći na jedno oko
tek toliko da ne bubne glavom u neko od
rastvorenih prozorskih krila ili vrata.
Oprezno sjede na zahodsku školjku i s
uživanjem pusti mlaz mokraće. Bješe
priklopio ono otvoreno oko. Tad se sjeti
zadnje slike iz malopri-jašnjeg sna:
zacijelo bi ga odmah morao nastaviti.
Kako to da se san može nastaviti?
Bojao se da će ga hladan beton
rashladiti, pa on pođe s gaćama i
pridžamom na koljenima natrag u krevet.
Ispred sebe držao je ispružene ruke. Oba
oka bijahu zatvorena. Uđe pod topao
jorgan. Isti čas pomisli kako bi
valjalo pogledati da li se Leda otkrila.
- Volim te - zareža Milena. 418
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Nije više bila ptica, već ona
prava, onakva kakvu ju je zadnji put
vidio na prozoru zatvora dok mu je kroz
suze mahala. Imao je još tri godine da
odsluži kaznu. Odonda je više nikad nije
vidio.
- I ja tebe volim - odgovori on.
- Zar bi otišao u zatvor umjesto nekog
koga ne volim?
- Šuti i ne laži! A Vanda? No,
ostavimo to. Uživajmo u našem susretu.
Daj pusti tu svoju zmiju u moju pećinu -
naredi mu ona strasno.
- Na usta će ti umjesto jezika
proviriti - osmijehnu se on.
- Neka, to i hoću - reče ona -
Kad ga nemam, umjesto njega jezikom
palacam.
419
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Milena, je li Leda moja kćer? -
upita on najednom. Molim te, reci mi
istinu.
- Kako misliš? - izobliči se ona
sva u licu.
- Evo, vidiš! - izvadi on papir -
ovdje je kalendar trudnoće. Evo, ta tu
brojka u prvom redu označava početak
posljednje menstruacije, a brojka - ova
tu, u drugom redu - dan je porođaja.
Leda je rođena 1. juna, a mi se nismo ni
znali 25. augusta, zar ne? Sjećaš li se
kako smo se upoznali prvi put one večeri
kod mene u stanku kad si došla s Vandom
i Dragom? Drugi septembar je bio. Muči
me onih osam dana razlike.
”Približan datum poroda se može izračunati
ako se poslužimo ovom računicom. Treba znati datum
420
Suze Dauta Arfadžana nastupa posljednje menstruacije kojom se pribroji 7
dana i odbije 3 mjeseca, npr. posljednja menstruacija
je nastupila 15.VII; dodamo li tome 8 dana, to je
22.VIII; ako odbijemo 3 mjeseca, žena će
najvjerovatnije roditi 22.V, ako ne nastupe
komplikacije. I ovaj način nije uvijek pouzdan jer se
neke žene ne sjećaju tačno dana početka
menstruacije.”
- I? - upita on. - Prema tome?
- Prema tome, Leda nije tvoja.
Ja sam je zanijela s drugim. Taj drugi
me je napustio kad sam mu rekla da sam u
drugom stanju. Došla sam Vandi, požaliti
se, potražiti savjet, pomoć. Ti znaš
njeno samarićanstvo. Njoj su zanim-ljivi
samo oni koji pate i kojima treba
pomoći.
421
Sead Mahmutefendić
Ti si baš u to vrijeme s njom
prekinuo. Bila je duboko povrijeđena. Na
neki način bile smo u istoj koći. Da bi
ti se osvetila, poturila me je tebi.
Nisam tada imala ništa protiv. Naprotiv,
vidjela sam da je to jedino bezbolnije
rješenje. Sad mi je toga stid. Oprosti
mi ako možeš. Ako ne možeš, ja ti se u
snu neću nikad pojavljivati.
- Reci mi, ko je Ledin otac -
viknu Daut. - Moram da znam.
- Zašto bi to bilo toliko
važno? - upita ona.
On htjede još nešto reći. Osjeti
gušenje u grlu i grudima.
U njenoj ruci nađe se nož. Ona
pritisnu dlanom po njegovoj oštrici.
422
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Ostavi nož! - naredi joj on. -
Evo argumenata da zatražim razvod. I
znaj da ću to učinit. Ti ne znaš dok
čovjeka potpuno ne izludiš. Daj mi ga,
čuješ li što ti kažem?
Ispruženog dlana stajao je ispred
nje. “Daj mi nož kad ti kažem.”
Lice se njeno krivilo u užasnu
grimasu i podrhtavalo. Vidjelo se da bi
mogla svaki čas zaplakati. Ali - ne
zaplaka.
Priđe mu korak bliže. Htjede ga
zagrliti. On je grubo odgurnu. Ona pade.
On se sage prema njoj. Isti čas, ugleda
njenu ruku, što je stiskala oštricu
noža, kako se sjuri poput munje prema
njegovim grudima. Kroz glavu mu sijevnu:
“Ovo je moj kraj!”
423
Sead Mahmutefendić
Čuje on neke zvukove. Nisu to
valjda golubovi? Golubovi su golubje
boje. Sad je noć. I noć zna biti golubje
boje. Neko otvara vrata.
Širom otvori oči Daut Arfadžan.
Kraj uzglavlja mu je stajala Leda. On se
osmjehnu prema njoj: “Vrati se u krevet,
sunce. Hladno ti je.”
- Je li tata da sve djevojčice
imaju pišu? - upita ona.
- Imaju - odgovori on.
- I ja sam djevojčica jer imam
pišu.
- Da, ti si djevojčica jer imaš
pišu.
- A muškarci imaju ćunu?
- Imaju.
- Imaš li ti ćunu? 424
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Valjda imam.
- Pokaži mi ga.
- Hajde ti u krevet.
- Hoću u tvoj krevet - reče Leda
te se baci u njegovo naručje.
Čim se ona smjesti kraj njega, on
se izvuče ispod jorgana te ode u kuhinju
da popije bijelu kafu.
Iz hodnika dopriješe bijesni
glasovi. Tako je skoro svaki put u ovo
vrijeme. Susjedovog sina - ispod -
valjalo je svako jutro ili mlatiti, ili
prijetiti, ili proklinjati da ne zakasni
naprvi školski čas.
Vani je padala slaba kiša. Daut
stade pred prozorsko ono. Leda bješe
ponovo zaspala. Nebo se prilično
natmurilo.
425
Sead Mahmutefendić
Neko pozvoni na vrata. Daut ih
otvori.
- Ako vam ne bi smetalo, ja bi
bio toliko slobodan da pročitam stanje
struje na strujomjeru radi naplate
dotične - dočeka ga iz hodnika mladićki
poletan i servilan glas inkasatora.
Daut ne bješe platio za posljednja
dva mjeseca.
- Nismo platili za posljednja dva
mjeseca, zar ne gospodine profesore?
Daut Arfadžan obeća da će novac još
sutra donijeti u upravu. Zamoli ga da
dotle ne pravi nikavu prijavu.
- Molim - reče inkasator. -
Dogovorili smo: sutraa, molim lijepo.
Zdravoo!
426
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Inkasator zasta, pa onda sleže
ramenima. Na vrijeme se, izgleda, sjeti
da bi sažaljenje bilo uputnije nego
ovakva lepršava ravnodušnost. Ko zna
koliko bi ga dugo preko onih debelih
leća posmatrao, da mu Daut nepritvori
vrata ispred samog nosa.
- Nismo platili za posljednja dva
mjeseca, zar ne gospodine profesore? -
podržavao ga je Daut posmatrajući ga
kroz špijunku na vratima.
Kafu je morao piti bez šećera. Samo
što je posrka, sjede za strojopis da
napiše pisamce za “Život”, kojem će
ponuditi jednu novelu. Drugu će poslati
u “Forum”, treću u “Gradinu”, četvrtu u
“Književnost”, petu u... petu će u božju
mater!...
427
Sead Mahmutefendić
S hladnjaka uze paklu cigareta koju
mu Vanda ostavila. Unutra nadje samo tri
komada.
Svi tipkači puše dok rade. Sjeti se
i onog što je maloprije sanjao. Zapali
cigaretu.
Nisam valjda praznovjeran da
vjerujem onom glupom snu? Ljudima se
upravo događaju one stvari u koje
vjeruju. Moram se odreći cigareta i
kafe. Moram Vandu osloboditi tih
troškova. Ipak, ja ne radim.
Je li Vanda meni zaista namjestila
Milenu da mi se osveti i spasi rodicu?
Zašto je ona meni priskočila u pomoć ne
mareći nimalo za zle jezike? Nekad smo
se došaptavali u zbornici, a sad igramo
428
Suze Dauta Arfadžana potpuno otvorenih karata. Negdje sam
pročitao da veličina čina oslobađa
čovjeka suvišnih obzira? Jesam li ja to
stvarno negdje pročitao ili sam sam
izmislio? Vjerovatno se to ja tješim.
Ako je onaj san stvarno istina? Zar
nije onaj student pao u nesvijest kad mu
je žena rodila crnu kćer? Doduše, moja
nije crna. Bože, oslobodi me ovakvih
niskih misli. Ja sam proklet. To je moja
curica. U meni je neka cijev pukla i
fekalije probijaju kroz pukotinu i
naviru van.
Leda se probudila. On je odvede do
kupatila da je tamo umije, počešlja i -
na kraju - obavezno poljubi u tjeme.
Pomože joj da na sebe navuče suknju roza
429
Sead Mahmutefendić
boje, bijele končane čarape i plave
sandalice.
Ona popi kafu, koju Daut bješe
zasladio šećerom što ga je iskopao iz
ćoškova kutije zajedno s rđom.
Iziđoše njih dvoje iz stana. Svuda
uokolo je živo. Svi nekud idu ili se
vrpolje. Malo tko sjedi na miru. Gleda
se, vaga, premjerava, baza se čaršijom
dolje-gore, a ako se nema nikakva posla,
onda se stoji i zirka oko sebe. Oči
gladne svakakvog zvuka i boje.
Od stočne pijace dopire blejanje
uplašenih ovaca i povremeno mukanje
uznemirenih telaca.
Držeći Ledu za ruku, Daut priđe
stolu prekrivenim crvenim crnim
430
Suze Dauta Arfadžana čaršafom. Po njemu bješe rasut nakit od
lažnog zlata, privjesci, narukvice,
ogrlice, švercovane lutke iz Trsta.
Preko stola, u izlogu piljarnice, Leda
ugleda nešto čudnovato što dotle nikad
nije vidjela.
- Tata! - uzviknu ona. Šta je
ono?
- Koje? - upita Daut.
- Eno ono okruglo ko šišarka -
pokaza ona prstićem.
- Ono? - pokaza i on prstom na
isto mjesto.
- Da.
- To je ananas! - reče on.
- Šta je to ananas? - upita
ona.
431
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Ima jedna priča o ananas -
naceri se on. Nekakav učitelj tukao
djecu u školi. Jednom neko dijete dođe
kući i ispriča roditeljima: “Učitelj nas
tukao, a na nas je poslije i čistačica
vikala.
- Na koga? - upita Leda.
- A na nas - reče Daut. - Hoćeš
da ti kupim, a poslije ću ti pričati
priču? Glupo sam tiispričao priču. U
stvari, zaboravio sam je.
Leda se zakikota: “A na nas... a na
nas... a na nas...”
- U stvari, Vanda će ti poslije
podne ili već sutra to kupiti - sjeti se
Daut da kod sebe nema novaca. - Kod nje
je novac.
432
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Što će meni teta Vanda kupovati
kad ja imam tebe - Leda skoro zaplaka. -
Hoću da mi ti kupiš!
- Ali ja nemam para - prosikta
Daut šapatom da ga ko ne čuje.
- Kako Vanda ima?
- Vanda radi.
- Zašto ti ne radiš?
- Nemam posla.
- kako Vanda ima posla?
- Ja imam posla oko tebe, moram
tebe čuvati.
- Onda ću ja kad porastem dati
tebi novaca, pa ćeš ti meni kupiti.
- Ananas?
- Da. Hoću od tebe ananas.
- Hoću sine.
433
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Nisam ja muško. Ja sam žensko
jer imam pišu - reče Leda.
U Dautu se miješao stid, gorčina i
očaj. Poželi da njih oboje odlete, isti
čas, nekamo daleko - naprimjer - u
Pariz, gdje nikog ne poznaju, da imaju
pune džepove para, a on i Leda da satima
šetaju pa onda negdje legnu, a noću
posmatraju kako nad njima trepere i
drhture zvijezde te visi blijed mjesečev
srp.
Leda se kikotala: “A na nas!... A
na nas! A na nas! Ti, tata, uvijek nešto
smješno rekneš.”
Daleko od njih, gomila ljudi se
tiskala u nepravilnom polukrugu. Pored
Dauta i Lede neki protrčaše
priključujući se onim znatiželjnicima, 434
Suze Dauta Arfadžana čiji je broj sve više rastao. Ljudi su
se propinjali na prste i izvijali
vratove da vide zbog čega se to po
bubnju lupa u određenom ritmu. U
odlomcima se čulo medvjedovo mumlanje,
te umorni i prigušeni glas nevidljivog
vlasnika, koji je morao biti u krugu.
Njegov glas se najčešće gubio u općoj
galami i graji.
Kad dođe do zadnjih redova, Daut
posjede Ladu iza vrata. Lagano je njenim
nožicama potiskivao ljude ispred sebe, i
oni su ga nekim slučajem propuštali
naprijed bez negodovanja. Tako se njih
dvoje nađoše u prvom redu. Sad su mogli
da vide i Ciganina, i bubanj, i
medvjeda, propetog na dvije stražnje
noge. Motku s lancem pridržavao je
435
Sead Mahmutefendić
vlasnik. On bi udario štapom po
životinji i medvjed bi isti čas
zamumlao.
Leda se mrštila od one okrugle
željezne alke, koja se - probijena kroz
medvjedov nos - klatila zajedno sa
slinom što mu je curila iz nosa i niz
gubicu. Čovjek bi potegnuo alku
prisiljavajući medvjeda na mumlanje i
poslušnost. Ciganove oči bile su tužne i
crvene.
Čim završi s igranjem i plesanjem,
mečka se spusti na sve četiri noge.
Krenu velika, zarđala konzerva u
Ciganinovoj ruci. Začu se zveket
metalnog novca. Neko je bacao žute.
Nekolicina njih pažljivo spusti i pokoju
436
Suze Dauta Arfadžana papirnatu novčanicu. Ostali su se
ravnodušno i prezrivo odmicali.
Dođe konzerva i do Dauta Arfadžana.
On ugleda podna-dule, crvene i staklaste
oči Ciganinove, do pola zastrvene teškim
kapcima, koje ga zbuniše te on ubaci
nešto metalnog sitniša što bješe iskopao
s dna džepa.
Ciganin lupi rukom po bubnju i
zapjeva. Istovremeno, povuče lancem
mečku za gubicu. Isti čas, mečka se
prope na prednje noge ostajući na dvije
stražnje. “Hajde Bimbo, pleši za nas,
tužnu igru nas dvojice...”
Riječi su bile slijepljene, mukle i
teške.
Leda je stajala mirno u prvom redu,
širom razrogačenih očiju i razjapljenih437
Sead Mahmutefendić
usta, sastavljenih stopala u stavu
mirno, obješenih ruku niza se, zagledana
u čovjeka pred sobom i životinju za koju
zna da je opasna a sada nemoćna i
poslušna. Bješe toliko blijeda da se
lako moglo povjerovati da je bez krvi.
Cigo poče jače lupati po bubnju. To
je bio znak da se konzerva još više
napuni misle li vidjeti igru medvjeda.
- Vidjet ćete čudo neviđeno - reče
on.- Još sam samo danas s vama. Sutra ja
i Bimbo odlazimo.
Konzerva se slabo punila. Prvi
redovi su se snebivali, nećkali i
smijuljili. Ciganin zaviri u nju pa onda
odmahnu glavom. Bubanj pojača ritam kad
konzerva u njegovoj ruci ponovo stade
438
Suze Dauta Arfadžana promicati ispred noseva i očiju
znatiželjnih posmatrača.
Ipak, konzerva se punila. Kad vidje
da je ispunjena skoro do vrha, on je s
olakšanjem prinese grudima. Uminuše
udarci bubnja.
Krhkim glasom od straha, Leda tog
trena panično uzviknu: “Tata, onaj čiko
hoće da se rve s medom? Hoće li on to da
uradi?”
Ciganin obuhvati medvjeda oko pasa.
Medvjed, također, obujmi šapama svog
drugara. Onda se začu potmulo mumlanje,
koje je stizalo iz dubine stomaka.
Stegnu medvjed Cigu i odiže ga od zemlje
držeći ga u naručju.
Ciganin prestade govoriti. Gals mu
potpuno zamre, a glava mu klonu na439
Sead Mahmutefendić
mečkine grudi. Leda vrisnu: “Podignite
čiki glavu!” Gomila u prvom redu
pobjesni: “Varalice!... Ukrao nam je
pare!”
Daut skide Ledu s vrata i stisnu je
u naručju. Imao je neku zlu slutnju.
Gomila prihvati lanac od Ciganina. Povu-
koše mečku za gubicu. Ona odvoji ruke od
gospodara mumlajući bolno.
Idući prema stanu, Daut ču kako
pred tezgom okupljenoj grupici
objašnjava neki čovječuljak kvalitete
svojih sapuni-ća. Glas mu bješe takav
kao da ga je iz trbuha istiskivao:
“Čistim sve fleke - od ulja, masti i
kolomasti sem fleke s pluća. Ponavljam:
sem fleke s pluća! Dođite vi gospodine s
mrljom na reveru.” 440
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
- Kupio sam juče jedan a ipak
nisam uspio ništa očistiti - reče onaj
gospodin.
- Ko misli zajebavati, neka stane
sa strane - reče trboglas. - Laž nije
prevara.
Naveče je Daut pričao Ledi o njenoj
mami, koja je bila najbolja mama na
svijetu. Nakon toga čitao joj je priče
iz knjige “Bajke iz cijelog svijeta”.
Tek kad ju je ponio u krevet, Leda
se probudila. Pospanim glasom ona ga
upita: “Zašto je medo jako stisnuo
čiku?”
- Zato što je čiko stisnuo njega
- odgovori on.
- Aa... zašto je mama umrla? -
upita ona.
441
Sead Mahmutefendić
- Zato što je nismo slušali -
pokuša se on našaliti, ali se isti čas
ugrize za usnu na tu svoju neduhovitost.
Kad ju je spustio u krevet,
djevojčica je već spavala. Daut ode do
prozora. Na nebu je visio svijetli srp
mjeseca.
Vide li ga oni u Parizu?
Da li će njegov život izmijeniti
Leda?
Buljio je u mrak a onda se
neodređeno osmjehnu.
21.
Vanda hladno pred Dautom prizna da
joj je oduvijek nedostajao smisao za
sopstvenu čast i da ne žali što je nema,
442
Suze Dauta Arfadžana mada mora, uz to, ustanoviti da je malo
ima onaj ko voli, jer u ljubavi nema ni
pragmatizma, ni matematike - ona je
ludilo i bolest! - i ništa više. A,
izgleda, da je još veće ako joj lijeka
nema. Daut povladi ove njene riječi,
dodavši kratko da bi se ovo posljednje
vjerovatno moglo odnositi na njihovu
raniju vezu, koja se bješe i prekinula
zahvaljujući više njenom jeziku nego
njegovoj ravnodušnosti prema njoj. Kao
jedina sretna činjenica, proistekla iz
toga, to je ovo njihovo iskreno druženje
i prijateljstvo (bar se njemu tako
čini), kojeg zasigurno ne bi bilo, bar
ne u ovakvom vidu da se ta njihova
ljubav kojim slučajem završila brakom.
Tad bi mogli obadvoje uzviknuti: “Avaj!”
To bi bila njihova zajednička komedija,443
Sead Mahmutefendić
kojoj ne bi bila ravna ni Danteova ni
Balzacova uobrazilja.
Vanda se podrugljivo smijuljila dok
ju je Daut Arfadžan svečanim glasom
uvjeravao da ono što on govori je živa-
živcata istina. Kao dokaz ovoj svojoj
tvrdnji potrudi se navesti sijaset
primjera od literature do običnog
života. Oboje su se smijali svojim
zabludama. Nešto zagrijani votkom, koju
je Daut pronašao u svom kućnom buffetu,
smijali su se ovim svojim prostodušnim i
promućurnim zaključcima koji su trebali
značiti da su se već konačno oslobodili
i riješili iluzija iz mladosti; iskustvo
im ne dozvoljava da u sebi ne osluškuju
logiku hladnog razuma. Oni par puta u
odu-ševljenju pljesnuše jedno drugom
444
Suze Dauta Arfadžana dlanom o dlan posmatrajući jedno drugo
očima punim sjaja. Niko od njih dvoje se
ne odvaži reći ono što u stvari misli.
Oboje su osjećali da se nešto veliko
između njih zanavijek ispriječilo kao
ogromni zid kojeg treba neko od njih
dvoje preskočiti. Ko će prvi i kako to
izvesti? Da bi olakšali jedno drugom
takvu odvaž-nost, oni nađoše zabavu oko
dugmića Vandinog kaputa. On ih je tobože
s pažnjom razgledao te ih nježno okretao
među prstima. Odmah do njegove ruke
počivali su njeni prsti. Šutnja se
dramatično uselila među njih. Oboje su
dobro osjećali što bi ona mogla značiti.
Daut je svu tu pretjerano ludu i
grešnu igru izvodio u nedostatku mašte
jer je živio u strahu da će kad-tad
445
Sead Mahmutefendić
morati popustiti te biti prisiljen
saopćiti Vandi svoje bojazni u vezi s
Mileninim nestankom, kao i sumnje u vezi
s Mileninim dolaskom u njegov život,
čiji je ona bila svjedok i posrednik.
Takva njegova odluka zahtijevala je od
njega čitavu njegovu hrabrost. To se
moralo izvesti na taj način da se ničim
ne povrijede sadašnja njena materinska
osjećanja prema Ledi; - za ono što je
činila za njegovu djevojčicu bio joj je
neizmjerno zahvalan.
On je htio početi s pitanjima i već
ih je u sebi izreka, ali se još nije
usuđivao saopćiti ih naglas. Savla-đivao
se dok je posmatrao ukočene, koštunjave
Vandine prste. Koliko su njih dvoje
stariji i koliko godina je prošlo od
446
Suze Dauta Arfadžana onog vremena kad su poznanici očekivali
njihovo sigurno vjenčanje. Činilo mu se
da nije zgodno započinjati čeprkati u
tom pravcu. Bojao se da takvom svojom
indiskretnom neopreznošću ne izgubi
drugarčinu i sebi i Ledi. Trebalo je,
bar što se tiče njenog provodadžisanja,
ugušiti u sebi takvu inicijativu i
nepotrebnu ljubopitljivost. Što se ima
ti ispitivati? - bilo pa prošlo! Ako se
nešto i ružno dogodilo, to se više ne da
ispraviti. Okolnosti ne idu, sada,
radoznalosti na ruku. S druge, pak,
strane nije mu se činilo baš zgodnim da
stvar ostavi zaboravu.
Daut Arfadžan je sjedio ne mičući
se, dok su mu usta čudno podrhtavala i
jasno se moglo vidjeti da mu srce bije o
447
Sead Mahmutefendić
rebra. Što se tiče Vande, ona ga je svo
to vrijeme jedva jednom pogledala.
Osjećala je da je on ima nešto pitati.
To mu je još ranije jasno vidjela po
napregnutom izrazu lica. Ton je, pak,
osjećao u sebi da će ga silna
ljubopitljivost, koja se već graničila s
tremom, natjerati da se zaplete u
razgovor, kojeg je on sa svoje strane
započeo uzbuđenim opisivanjem njihovog
doživljaja, susreta s Milenom u običnom
snu.
Vanda nije ništa mogla pametnije
uraditi već da se nasmije, ali tako da
ga ne dotakne njen smijeh niti da ga
povrijedi. Taj smješak, po Dautovom
mišljenju, oslobađao je njega od njenog
prijekora i optužbe, sažaljenja ako on
448
Suze Dauta Arfadžana uistinu misli da bi to moglo biti tačno
što mu se dogodilo u snu. Besumnje, to
mu je ona mogla sada u oči reći.
Doduše, i Daut, koji je za svo
vrijeme svoje priče, najpažljivije
motrio izraze na njenom licu, morao je
osjetiti neku vrstu olakšanja kad je
vido da se ona nije osjetila ni najmanje
pogođenom njegovim posrednim insinu-
acijama pa je, uporedo s tim, morao
savlađivati u sebi dra-matična maštanja
govornika koja su lako mogla uskoro
izni-jeti svu njegovu brižljivo skrivanu
paranoju.
Nakon što završi, isljednički
isčekujući njenu reakci-ju, ona ga
sasvim ozbiljno i strogo upita: “Da li
ti možda vjeruješ tom snu ili mi ga
449
Sead Mahmutefendić
poturaš tek tako da mi ga pričaš, priče
radi? Dosad te nisam poznavala kao
praznovjernog.”
Da bi stvar otpleo i okrenuo na
šalu, on natoči sebi i njoj još po jednu
čašicu votke, lukavo uzgred ustvrdivši
da ga je majka učila da svaki san
prijatelju valja ispričati. To je na
brzinu slagao, jer mu ona nije nikad
tako nešto govorila. On je znao da
Vanda nije naivna, te je osjetio kako se
sad izumeđu njih stvara, i pored
njegovog nastojanja da je uvjeri kako je
sve u redu, neki podrugljivi ponor
između onog što je stvarno bilo i
njegovog sumnjičenja. Na jednoj strani
stoji ona koja sve zna, a na drugoj je
on, koji misli i sumnja, a ne zna i nije
450
Suze Dauta Arfadžana siguran. A ona, mrtva-hladna, svojim
metalnim, jeftinim, namješteno dubokim i
strogim glasom, ostavlja mu slobodu da
svojoj mašti predstavi užasnu sliku
njenog tajnog dogovora s Milenom, koji
je njena osveta za ono što ju je Daut
tako davno napustio i pomrsio joj račune
s njim. Njemu ništa drugo nije ostalo
nego da krči palac zdrave noge u kućnoj
papuči.
- Ako me pitaš za Milenu dok si bio
u zatvoru - reče Vanda hladno - onda bih
ti mogla reći sasvim malo, jer me ona
nije toliko zanimala koliko sam bila
povrijeđena zbog njenog ponašanja
nasuprot tvom velikodušnom gestu
preuzima-nja njene krivice na sebe.
Jedino će to biti valjan razlog što ću
451
Sead Mahmutefendić
ti dati nešto. Nakon toga otpati i biće
ti lakše. Poslije toga ćeš izaći čist i
tup na svaku bol. Tek ćeš tad naći
smirenje i osjetit ćeš koliko prija
topla zraka sunca. Sad moram ići u
školu. Predveče ću ti po učeniku poslati
Milenin dnevnik. Vjerovatno sam surova,
ali znam dobro što te muči.
22.
1. decembar - Još sam u jednu praznu imračnu rupu pala. Vidjelasam D. kako odlazi na duževrijeme. Ostavlja mene iovo u meni. Plakala sam.Mislila sam da ćupoludjeti.
14. maj - Tužna sam cijelo proljeće.Evo me ovdje skoro nabespuću. Što bih da mamanije uz mene. Ponekad
452
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
vidim kako se sve razmičeispred mene: zemlja,zidovi, pod, nebo. Pitammamu vidi li ona testvari. Ona mi kaže da nevidi.
16. maj - Ne mogu se pomiriti da meljudi ovako sažaljivogledaju. Ja i mama živimood očeve penzije. Nekakokrpamo kraj s krajem. Štobih tek mislila da je D.bio za volanom? Ljudi mesažaljevaju i njemupripisuju sramotu. Službe-no je dobio otkaz odškole. Samo se do šestmjeseci prašta. Tako stojiu zakonu.Po cijeli dan ja i mamaslažemo pasijans. Spremamose za moj porođaj koji ćeuskoro.
3. jun - Danas sam izišla izrodilišta. Prvog junarodila sam curicu. Odmahsu mi došli u sobu i
453
Sead Mahmutefendić
zatražili ime za dijete.Leda će se zvati, odlučilasam. To sam sastavila odprva dva slova mog nadimka- Lena i Dautovog imena.Tako će bar biti uvjerenda je dijete njegovo. Znamda sumnja, ali nije imaohrabrosti upitati me toglasno.Doktor Đerić mi jeobjasnio značenje togimena. Kao - postojilegenda - da je to imežene spartanskog kraljaTindareja, koju jeobljubio Zeus pretvorivšise u labuda.Mama me je sačekalataksijem ispred glavnogulaza bolnice. Jadna mama,uvijek je patila zaceremonijama. Ta je znalanapamet koliko je svakamoja prijateljica imalasvatova i auta na svadbi,
454
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
“Da si se za crnogCiganina udala, tvoja bisvadba bila pristojnija” -znala mi je čestoprigovarati.Dobra moja mama. Ipak jaimam samo nju i, sad, ovumalu drekavicu-kakicu.
28. avgust, srijeda - Topao i sunčan dan.Danas smo bile na izletu.Sinoć nam je bio na večerijedan moj prijatelj izškolskih dana. Nekad bilaluda za njim. Spomenulasam mu to. Smijali smo se.On je rekao: “Nikad nijekasno”.Sad je trgovački putnik.Prodaje po Jugosla-vijiženske dezodoranse, otmjenje i veoma ugladjen. Uzto, savršeno galantan.Onakvi na kakve sam većzaboravila živeći u ovojse-lendri među ovimdivljacima. Pričao mi jeda je čuo za mene kad sam
455
Sead Mahmutefendić
se ovdje udala. Put ga jeprvi put nanio kroz ovajTeksas, pa je odlučio dame vidi. Po ne znam kojiput molio je moju mamu zaispriku ako je na smetnji.Sirota mama nije uopćeshvatila što se on njojtoliko ispričava. Poslijesam joj nasamo objasnilada mu je jako nezgodno štodolazi u stan udatoj ženi,kojoj je - uz to - i mužmo-mentalno u zatvoru.“Glupost!” - rekla je mama- “ta nisu valjda đačkeuspomene za đubrište?” Bašovim riječima je to rekla.O Dautu je, veli, čitao unovinama. Rekao mi je dasuosjeća sa mnom, alimoram biti jaka jer ježivot najjači i živjeti semora dalje. Rekao mi je ito da se ne ljutim na tošto moram spomenuti dasvakome danas dozvole da
456
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
sjedne za volan auta.Dakle, to je živa kul-turai živa enciklopedija.Koliko samo stranih riječiu rječniku, i to sve smjerom. U svako doba danai noći zna tačno koji jekurs stra-nih valuta. D.nije znao ni kolika mu jeplata. Kad mu spomenem nešto štomiriše na moju pohvalu, onse zagleda negdje udaljinu onim svojimsjetnim pogledom i kaže:“Ništa ja ne znam kolikobi se trebalo znati”.Oduvijek je bio takav. S.nas je odveo svojim automu Klikovac. Prije toga,mami i meni poklonio jekolekcije najskupljihparfema. Od prvog dozadnjeg - Made in France.Već sam zaboravila da osimsmrada postoje i mirisi.
457
Sead Mahmutefendić
Našla sam mamu da plače ukupatilu. Kaže, sve joj senakupilo. “Gdje mi,kćerce, živimo?”Na izletu je bilo veselo.
31.avgust,uveče - S. je svratio do nas napovratku iz Be-ograda.Mami i meni kupio je dvaogromna buketa predivnihžutih gladiola. Osim toga,meni je pokloniočetvrtastu satensku kutijuuvezanu crvenom, svilenomtrakom. Unutra je bilakolekcija najskupljihkrema, parfema i sprejeva.Taman sam zaustila dakažem kako nije bilopotrebno izlagati setolikom trošku, ali me jeon preduhitrio da mi kažeonim svojim predivnim,baršunastim glasom: “To jenešto najskromnije uodnosu na ono čime treba
458
Suze Dauta Arfadžana
podariti vašu božanskuljepotu i čednost”.Ponovo sam zatekla mamu daplače. Ni ja više nisammogla zadržati suze. “Ovajzna da živi” - rekla jemama - “i alal mu vjera zato, pa neka mu i bude”.Odavno nisam vidjelatakvog kavaljera. Bojim sesebi priznati da me pomaloosvaja njegov šarm. Veče je bilo nezaboravno.Neću ga nikadzaboraviti...
l2.septembar -Primila sam pismo od S. Pišemi da budem dobra ipametna. Piše da će gaposao ponovo donijeti nakrilima meni i mom divnom,prediv-nom, božanskomtijelu. Naziva me tigricomu krevetu. Nikad, kaže, nemože zaboraviti tre-nutkeprovedene uz moje tijelo.Neka mu javim da li bi
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Sead Mahmutefendić
bilo zgodno da svrati domene. Sanjao me jenekoliko puta. Gubi, kaže,svoj mir. Mora supruguobmanjivati da imaposlovnih pro-blema. Šaljemi i adresu. Neka mu pišem- poste restante. Neću da mu pišem. Nesmijem mu otkriti da jedovoljan njegov mig pa dase isti čas stvorim krajnjega. Volim ga. I love S. I´mesory,mister Arfagi-jan.
16. oktobar - S je bio kod nas dva dana.Naveče je prespavao uhotelu, a preko dana jebio kod nas. Mama sepočela plašiti ogovaranja.Rekla sam joj da sam i jastvorenje od krvi i mesa ida imam prava na svojživot. Muž u zatvoru,rodilo se dijete, nigdjemu oca. Je li to život?
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Leda je zamolila S. da jojon bude tata. On senasmijao, pogledao u menei rekao: “djeca najboljeosjete ko je dobarčovjek”.
17. oktobar - S. i ja proveli cijeli danvan mijesta. Imali smoodnos na zadnjem sjedištuauta. Bilo je božanstveno.On je malo drukčije rekao:“Milena, bilo jefenomenalno!”Odsjeli smo u jednomhotelu. Htjela sam gaiskušati pa sam seposlužila jednim oprobanimlukavstvom. Rekla sam muda ovakvo naše skri-vanjenema nikakvog smisla i dabi bilo daleko poštenijeda prekinu vezu i da sesvako vrati svom ognjištu.Ostali bi i daljeprijatelji.
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Sead Mahmutefendić
Kad je to čuo, on jezaplakao, klekao preda mena pod, s obje rukeobgrlio mi koljena i suza-ma mi kvasio gole noge.“Tuci me kao psa, samo dasam uz tebe” - ridao jeon. “Samo da je tebiznati, da je tebi znatikoliko ja patim inespavam. Niko to nerazumije niti može razu-mijeti, pa ni ti, jer timene ne možeš nikadvoljeti onoliko koliko jatebe volim. Moji susreti stobom za moju dušu itijelo su postali pravipraznik”. Ti imaš slatku i dobruženicu i dvoje divnedječice. Oni te trebajui ti si njima potreban.
Ono žena? - Gorko meodozdo pogleda krozsuze. - Ono žena! To je,
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
da prostiš, naj-običnijaškorpija. Ali ne, nećuprotiv nje govoriti. Tone bi bilo ljepo ihumano od mene. Ipak jemajka moje djece. Ja samškorpija, mene trebazgaziti.
Bože dragi, pomislim,uskoro ću i ja za njimpočeti plakati. Neki danda ne zna ništa, a sad daje najgori na svijetu.Neljudski je ovo što činimod njega. Jasno mi je sve.Konačno znam šta je sreća.Sreća je ovo što klečipreda mnom. Tako nježan,tako pažljiv i takoosjećajan čovjek govoritiza sebe? To samo može onajkoga su doveli do očaja. Nisam mogla više izdržati:plakala sam i tresla sekao prutić na vjetru.Jedino što sam uspijela
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Sead Mahmutefendić
izustiti bilo je da mukažem: “Mili! Mili moj!”
29. oktobar - S. je bio ponovo kod nas.Rekao mi je u povjerenjuda je ženi otkrio našuvezu i da je zatražio odnje razvod. Djeca su bilau šoku, osobito starijakćer. Rastali smo se s njegovimobećanjem da će mi uskoroo svemu detaljno pisati. Uormaru, među odijelima,imali smo odnos. Svevješalice su popadale ponama. Ovaj muškić zna štoje seks. Doktor je zanjega. Kad sam mu torekla, on se nasmijao:“Ako sam ja doktor, ti siakademik”. Cijelu noć oka nisamsklopila. Šta ću muodgovoriti ako sve bude uredu sa suprugom? Mogu liD. ostaviti na cijedilu?
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Ne volim ga, ali poštujemnjegovu iskrenost. Šta ćesutra Leda reći? Brak nijeprva bračna noć. Leda ćesigurno biti na očevojstrani. Ali, i ja imampravo na život. On je krivza nesreću. Nije me smioometati. Ne osjećam senimalo krivom ni dužnompred njim i sobom.Ne znam kad sam zadnji puts Ledom se poigrala.Volim s S. Ko je S.? Zarje to uopće bitno?S. je pastuh. I točistokrvni!
19. novembar- S. mi je pisao da moraslužbeno otputovati uLjubljanu.Primila sam D-ovo pismo.Bože, kakva je razli-kaizmeđu ova dva čovjeka:nebo i zemlja. Nimalošarma, nimalo pažnje zamene. Piše mi kao da sam
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Sead Mahmutefendić
ja upravnik zatvora a nenjegova nesretna žena,koja ga ni kriva ni dužnačeka da gospodin dođe.Dođem li ja kao neka Pene-lopa? Žali mi se na usloveu zatvoru, hranu, cmizdri,kuka. Pitam se šta je tomene njemu privuklo. Bogzna sami!
18.decembar - S. mi piše da ima poslapreko glave, ali će moratipronaći sekundu-dvije daskoči do mene, samo tolikoda me vidi. Posao mu idedobro.
25.decembar - S. nam je čestitao Božić iNovu godinu. Poslao nam jepaket. Za mene i mamumaterijale za haljinu odkineske svile, a za Leduvelikog plišanog medu iveliku čokoladu od riže.Piše mu da mu vuše nešaljem pisma na posterestante, jer mu je
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
supruga išla dva puta daprovjeri. Sva sreća štonije bilo ništa. Inače,dogovorio se još ranije saslužbenicom na šalteru danikom ne govori za njegovupoštu osim njega.
9. februar - Dobila sam pismo od S.Piše mi da mu supruga nepristaje ni na kakavrazvod. Njihov brak jeušao sad u nešto mirnijevode. D. mi se javio. Pita mezašto mu ne pišem.
14. april - S. mi je zakazao za danastelefonski razgovor. Morambiti u pošti u 18,00 sati.Bojim se da nas neko odpoznatih ne prisluškuje.
Isti dan, 19 sati - S. mi preko telefona kažeda mu je starija kćerpobjegla od kuće. SUP jetraži već 3 dana. Očajanje. Dođe mu da se ubije,da skoči pod voz. Ovako se
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Sead Mahmutefendić
ne može dalje. Šta jestaviti vrat pod točkovevagona? Sekunda. Nitisekunda. A ja?
11. maj - S-inu kćer pronašli ujednoj pećini. Odlučila jeda umre od gladi. Pronašlisu kraj nje i oproštajnopismo. Kao razlog takvojodluci navodi oca. “Zatošto je varao mamu” Morat ćemo prekinuti, kažemi na kraju S. Ja sam bilaonog dana u hoteluuviđavnija od njega. I onsad vidi da je takonajbolje. “Ostat ćemo idalje prijatelji kao danije ništa bilo međunama”. Supruga mu svakogdana pravi scene. Prijetida će se baciti s prozorakad bude najviše svijetana ulici. Prije togarazaslaće pisma njihovim
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
zajedničkim prijateljima ukojima će im reći zbogčega je to učinila.Ucjenjuje ga djecom.Prijete mu i njezinabraća. Živi pakao.- Ja više ovako ne moguizdržati. Oprosti mi akosam se ponio kaogad, aline daj ti bože ovakvogpakla, kojeg ni najvećemdušmaninu ne bihpoželio.
1. jun - Proslavili smo Ledin prvirođendan. Pavo govoreći,ja sam glumila da gaslavim. Misli su mi bilesasvim na drugoj strani. Leda je znala otpjevati Ajedan mali zeko, taj potok tražisvud.
Ljeto - Ljeto smo proveli na moruu našoj porodičnoj kući.Naveče je Leda pokazivalaprstićem na mjemje, neštokasnije na mepec (mjesec),
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Sead Mahmutefendić
danju na mamamaca(magarca) i tražila odmene i bake da joj kupimomamone bombone). Leda se smije najljepše nasvijetu. Umjesto: Daj mi!- kaže: Na mi! Djevojčicajoj je očica. U vuku i sedamkozlića za deblo u koje seslijeva voda kaže da ječamac i brod. Kad je bakapita koliko je sati, onauvijek kaže da je devet.Kad je ljuta kaže: Puti me,puti me na miju! A pjeva:Petopaka s´a u k´vi, notio je Tito p´vi! Kad je s djedom gledala naTV vaterpolo utakmicu,rekla je da se čike peru. Boji se balona. Dok je jednom baka čistilaribu, ugledala je krv paje stala ljubiti ribu darana ne boli.
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Kaže za kafu da jezdrobljena zemlja.S. mi se nije javio nijednom riječju.
13.oktobar - Danas je S. bio kod nas.Veli da je došao dapošteno razjasnimo nekestvari. 1. Supruga mu ne da
razvod.2. Kćer mu se vratila. Ne
zanima ga više njegovasreća ili nesreća. Samoda su mu djeca živa izdrava. I? pitam ja. - Što tipredlažeš?
Najbolje bi bilo dazaborave ono što jebilo među njima.
A ovo? - pokažem muja na trbuh.
Nije lijepo što minisi odmah rekla -
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Sead Mahmutefendić
reče on nakon nekogvremena sav zbunjen
Evo ti sad kažem. Milena, nemojmo seigrati djece. Ja imaženu i djecu. Ti imašmuža i dijete. Muž tisamo što nije izišao.A za to - pokaza onrukom na moj trbuh nine trepnuvši kao dareklamira svoje kreme- Ja ću platiti svekolko bude koštalo.Mogu ti naći dobrogdoktora.
Za ovo treba bitiakademik - rekoh jasva u očaju. - Većsam u petom mjesecu.
Naćemo i njega akotreba - reče S.
A ako neću? - rekogja.
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
Onda je to već tvojastvar. - naceri mi seon ravno u lice. -Samo što ja tu nemamviše ništa, jasno?Uostalom, ko zna jeli to moje? To ni Bogne može dokazati.
Nisam imala snage da gapotjeram. Čini mi se akobih otvorila usta, ističas bi sve izrigala izsebe. On se ljuljao ispredmene. Morala sam sepridržati za prvu stvaršto sam je dohvatila.Rukom sam mu dala znak dami se gubi ispred očiju, akad sam vidjela da stvarnoodlazi, znala sam da gavidim zadnji put i da jemeđu nama sve gotovo.Iluzija više nisam nimaloimala. Njemu je bilonajvažnije kako će štoodvažnije preći onaj putpreko sobe i da se izgubi
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Sead Mahmutefendić
iza vrata prije nego štoga ja - eventualno - neprokunem. I to ne tolikoradi sebe. Čini mi se da ipored svega nije mu bilolako. Soba se okrenula oko mene.Mama me dignula s poda.Čelo mi je vlažila hladnomkrpom. Udišem kao da mi jeto zadnji vazduh. Teba mimnogo vazduha. Više nisamničija: ni D-ova, ni S-ina, ni Ledina, ni ovogdjeteta u utrobi mojoj.
2. novembar - Bolesna sam i nemoćna.Nervi su mi sasvim prikraju. Htjela bih da sedržim pribrano. Bojim seda će me to uskoroiznevjeriti. Najviše me jestid Lede. Niti pričam,niti se igram s njom.Nesretna mama s onakovisokim pritiskom i s onimnogama kao u bedevije
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
potpuno ju je preuzela.Stisla jadna zube i dela.Šta ja mogu kad me više niza šta nije briga? Mama me još nijednom nijeupitala šta ću činiti sbebom. Očekujemo je kaonuklearnu bombu.
13.novembar - Pet je mjeseci kako sam udrugom stanju. Odlučilasam abortirati. Ljekarikažu da je opasno,preopasno. Ne želim S-inupomoć. Neka su mu sasrećom njegova supruga,njegova djeca i njegovmili mir.Mamu sam ostavila kući sLedom. Ko bude pitao zamene, otišla sam D-u nanekoliko dana. Pobačaj ćuizvršiti, daleko, u jednojbolnici. Tamo me niko nepoznaje.
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Sead Mahmutefendić
Tamo te niko ne poznaje i voli,a ovdje ti svako bratskiruku steže.
15.novembar - Kod mene je bila Vanda.Rekla sam joj gdje idem.Nije bila iznenađena. Nalicu sam joj primijetilakiseo osmijeh. Vjerojatnojoš nije preboljela Dauta.Sjećam se da mi je jednomrekla za njega: “Takvi suse trebali roditi hiljadugodina ranije ili hiljadugodina kasnije. Nisu takviljudi za ova majmunskavremena.” Rekla sam joj ako se neštodogodi sa mnom da pomognemami oko Lede do Dautovogdolaska. Neka Dautu rekneo njoj što hoće - niti štada doda, niti šta daoduzme. Njoj je ionako sve
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Suze Dauta Arfadžana
odavno postalo svejedno iužasno besmisleno. Reklasam joj i to: Ja sanjamsvog bivšeg Dauta kao štoti sanjaš mog. Sreća je,izgle-da, uvijek s onestrane zida - nedodirljivaza našu kratku i pohlepnuruku. Sreća je pobje-gulja, fatamorgana.
22.novembar - Dodala svojom rukom: Vanda Nahod.
Odjel za ginekologiju i akušerstvoOpće bolnice poslao telegram naČednu Kovačević sljedećegsadržaja: MILENA ARFADŽAN, rođ.KOVAČEVIĆ UMRLA NA POROĐAJUU NEDELJU NAVEČE. BEBA TAKOĐEUMRLA. TIJELA MOŽETE PREUZETI UUTORAK NA ODJELU ZAPATOLOGIJU. UPRAVA.
P.S. Napisala Vanda N. svojomrukom.
Službenik na pošti rastrubio pocijelom mjestu gdje je okončalasvoj život Milena Arfadžan. Svisažaljevaju Dauta.
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Sead Mahmutefendić
GROZNO I ODVRATNO!
Između korica teke i zadnjeg lista
Daut primjeti papir ispisan dječijom
rukom. On poče čitati.
13. jun 1978. g.
Dragi moj tata i mama,
Mnogo sam se razveselila kad samprimila vaša pisma i crteže. Mama mi jepreljepo nacrtala balerinu. Tata mi jesve ljepo nacrtao sve ću ćuvati zauspomenu ja znam dase i vi radujjetemome pismu pazato ja vama pišem Ljepomije kod moje bake i dobromi je bilo biljepo daste i vi ovdje pa dasmo svizajedno skupa. Baka mi svašta kupi. Jućemi je kupila breskve. Jel se vi punokupate. Ja i baka prićamo ovama. Baš bivoljela da svi budemo zajeno. Punopoljubaca šalje vam vama LedaJa i moja baka se divno slažemo i ona jemeni najbolja baka na svjetu. Dobila samosip po tijelu. Proćićemi. Baki je puno 478
Suze Dauta Arfadžana žao što sam se razbolila i da nemožemoić u šetnju. Puno vas voli i šalje vampoljubac sa rukicom vaša Leda. šaljemvam ovog labuda što sam ga zavasnacrtala.
Daut se zagleda u Ledin crtež.
Osjeti da bi mogao uskoro zasuziti, ali
na vrijeme stisnu oči i ne dozvoli da mu
one zamute pogled.
Pa neka je ovo sve tačno, zašto je
dijete lagala da smo ja i Milena nekud
zajedno?
Bože moj, pa ja konačno sve vidim!
Hvala ti što sam saznao istinu. Sad me
ona ne muči niti mi je ona više
potrebna. Teško mi je zbog ovog što sam
pročitao. Ipak, ja sam tu ženu volio.
Sad znam da nisam umišljao što sam
sumnjao u njenu vjernost dok sam bio u
zatvoru. 479
Sead Mahmutefendić
Ono - za Ledu - neka mi sam Bog
oprosti.
23.
Prije svega, od samog početka, i
pored onog izraza nastranosti, svidjelo
mi se neobično tužno lice vrhovnog
sudije, te mi se tad učinila bez
razložna i suvišna moja strepnja prema
vlasti koju sam oduvijek dovodio u vezu
s mojom ravnodušnošću što je, u stvari,
bila nenaklonost koju sam nosio u srebi,
tako da sam često znao ustuknuti
navodeći sebe na oprez kako bih izbjegao
nemile posljedice ako bih kojim slučajem
došao u sukob sa zakonom ili bih došao u
neugodnu situaciju da trpim njegovu
prisilu, ispitivanja, provjeravanja 480
Suze Dauta Arfadžana mojih iskaza, ponovna preslušavanja, a
uz to i sumnjičenja koja su me
ponižavala, dovodeći me ponekad do prave
provale bijesa, pa je to u meni još više
učvršćivalo odbojnost i nepovjerenje
prema vlasti tako da su se sve moje
dotadašnje predpostavke odnosile na onaj
dio mojih sumnji koje sam sa zebnjom
krio i držao skrivene u sebi te -
napokon - nisam poricao ono što sam
učinio, mada sam protestirao ispred
sudačkog stola za neke nezgrapne
formulacije u optužnici, a to je da se
radi o apsolutno indiferentnoj individui
koja je s apsolutnim predomišljajem
iskoristila trenutak nepažnje dežurnih
milicionara, u toku samog suđenja, s
ciljem da nad inkriminiranim osobama
izvrši akt krvne osvete zbog481
Sead Mahmutefendić
napastvovanja kćerke Lede Arfadžan što
će kasnije biti uzrokom da spomenuta
Leda Arfadžan u trenucima
neuračunljivosti i psihičke labilnosti
izvrši samoubistvo bacivši se sa
željezničkog mosta na kolski put; - eto:
zbog ovog drugog, nikog živog da zaboli
glava, pa ni ove tu sudije, ni tužioca,
ni sudske vještake, ni miliciju, ni
kurčevu pravdu, kao ni ostale u ovoj
sudnici već, naprotiv, nakon svake moje
nesuvisle rečenice ili neke ironične
tužiočeve replike pronese se salom
smijuljenje da bi se to pretvorilo u
šutnju ili pak glasno neodobravanje u
trenutku kad moj advokat ili ja,
odgovarajući na njegova pitanja nešto
primijetio što bi s pravnog aspekta
482
Suze Dauta Arfadžana moglo ići u moju korist zbog čega je
glavni sudija nekoliko puta morao
upozoriti prisutne da će biti prisiljen
isprazniti sudnicu ukoliko se to još
samo jedamput ponovi, izgovarajući pri
tom patetično i naglašavajući posebno i
pažljivo svaku riječ da sud ne želi
ostavljati utisak nekog pristrasnog
suđenja i izvršiti po svaku cijenu još
jednu odmazdu više, izuzev ako utvrdi da
za tako nešto postoje neoborivi,
činjenični dokazi, i to sve s ciljem da
suđenje završi objektivno u duhu Ustava
i Krivičnog zakonika uz prethodno
pravedno i pravno vaganje svih motiva
optuženih - kako otežavajućih, tako i
olakšavajućih - koji su ih rukovodili i
naveli da učine ovaj nečuveni zločin
nakon čega će ovaj sud donijeti presudu483
Sead Mahmutefendić
i nakon čega je onda u meni počelo
izazivati podozrenje da je cijela ova
pozorišna predstava, čiji sam ja, eto,
postao prvak, a ovaj sudački stol da je
u stvari nastavak one lakrdije ispoljene
još u vrijeme istražnog postupka nad
Ledinim napasnicima, te sam se radije
pokušavao isključiti iz cijelog tog
parlatorija vraćajući se razmišljanjima,
metafizici, Ledi iz onih sretnijih dana,
u isto vrijeme pitajući samog sebe po
milijoniti put, kad mi još niko nije bio
u stanju dati valjan odgovor što se to u
njoj prelomilo te je odlučila da mahne
rukom ovom svijetu a da nije potražila
spas, bar u meni pa makar i s iluzijom
da se drži te moje slamke, koja bi,
možda, tu njenu odluku mogla preinačiti
484
Suze Dauta Arfadžana usljed mojih jakih, ubjedljivih, rodi-
teljskih riječi i preklinjanja za njena
povrijeđena osjeća-nja, ojađenu dušu i
ukaljano tijelo ili je pak vjerovala da
ih više ne može iznaći, ili - avaj! -
mislila da ni ne postoje takve snažne i
iskrene riječi u ljudskom jeziku koje
krijepe i vidaju, pa se, izgleda,
pomirena s tom groznom i žalosnom
činjenicom odlučila da ćuti za prvo
vrijeme, mada ju je mirni i strpljivi
inspektor za krvne i seksualne delikte
ispitivao o svim detaljima koji su se
ticali samog čina obljube s takvom
ironijom kao što sam ja u svoje vrijeme
znao upitati dežurnog učenika zašto
komadić krede leži zdrobljen na podu; -
ona je zbog toga još više tonula u svoj
jad i šutnju iza koje se skrivala kao485
Sead Mahmutefendić
iza štita te od stida nije odgovarala ni
na jedno pitanje, premda ih je on s
konjskim strpljenjem i magarećom
tvrdoglavnošću po nekoliko puta
ponavljao u raznim oblicima lukavo je
pokušavajući navesti da iziđe iz svog
oklopa ne bi li je na taj način načeo
svojom upornošću što se krila iza strogo
sračunate mimike i gestikulacije, koja
je imala za cilj ostaviti na nju utisak
stopostotnog saosećaja i rezignacije
zbog primi-tivizma onih momaka, a to je
sve opet imalo za cilj da više jednom
prestane buljiti u jednu tačku preda se
i da već jednom otvori ta svoja prokleta
usta i da u hip izdiktira
daktilografkinji ono što se stvarno
dogodilo, ali bojala se, znam ja da se
486
Suze Dauta Arfadžana užasno bojala zbog tog pismenog traga na
bijelom po sebi ispod koje će na kraju
morati još jednom drmnuti svoj potpis
što će biti ujedno, za vječnost pečat,
dokaz i javno priznanje za ono što joj
se dogodilo, pa je nesretnica očekivala
kroz polusvijest hoće li ta debela,
prežderana, plava, ondulirana kravetina
od daktilografkinje lupiti po tipci
mašine, a onda kad je vidjela da to nije
ni jednom uradila, ona na trenutak
zaboravi zbog čega je ona završila u
ovoj sobi pred ovim pizdunom, pažljivo
izbrijane brade i s prvim znacima
ćelavosti na tjemenu, namirisanog
jeftinom kolonjskom vodom i nervoznog
nosa i koji se znao jedino uzbuđivati
pred porcijom škampi, čašom vina i
dobrom, sisatom ženskom, tako da joj se487
Sead Mahmutefendić
ova igra učini zanimljivom utoliko više
što je predosjetila neku rezervnu snagu
u sebi baš zbog toga što nije pružila
tom govnaru i jebivjetru zadovoljstvo da
s prikrivenom perverzijom sluša i uživa
u njenoj bijednoj ispovijedi pa da mu se
i ona stvar ukruti u gaćama dok ona pred
njim iznosi svoj jad i bol, koji bi je
još više unizili - ako još ima nešto
niže - što bi više o napasnicima
raspredala i čačkala po neprijatnom
sjećanju kad joj njene birane riječi
mogu sravnati s njenim prisjećanjem -
sopstvenim ruganjem, te joj je, stoga,
jedino preostalo da odloži one svoje
koštunjave ruke u krilo i posmatra
nervozne kretnje inspektorovih ruku,
dobovanje njegovih prstiju po hrpi
488
Suze Dauta Arfadžana papira iz koje je kasnije izvukao jedan
na kojem je njegovom rukom bilo sitno
ispisano ono što je uspio za svo ovo
vrijeme iz nje izcijediti; nju je
zabavljalo što je on pokušava dočekati u
zasjedi ne bi li čuo iz njenih usta šta
se u stvari dogodilo 27. marta 1984.
godine, kada je uveče sva nacifrana Leda
otišla sa svoje dvije prijateljice
Tatjanom i Marinom u selo Klikovac na
igranku i kada su sve tri djevojke
ostale do kasno čekajući lokalni
autobus, pošto ples u domu nije održan,
i tu je - tad - njih napala grupa
mladića za koje se kasnije ispostavilo
da ih je četvoro; Tatjana i Marina su
uspijele pobjeći uz pomoć mraka, a Leda
će ostati sama i posljedice takve
situacije su kasnije morale, prirodno,489
Sead Mahmutefendić
podleći pravosuđu: što je bilo? kako se
sve to dogodilo? ko je kriv? i na
bezbroj drugih pitanja, ali se ubrzo od,
naizgled, sasvim jasnih dokaza došlo u
ćorsokak, jer od Lede dolazi nova izjava
da mladići nisu krivi i da je svemu tome
ona kriva, mada iskusni pravnici znaju
vrijednost sličnih poricanja, te na nju
nisu obraćali pažnju, a onda Leda piše
još jednu izjavu, zatim još jednu uporno
uzimajući krivicu na sebe nakon čega
stiže telefonski poziv miliciji:
“Pogledajte ko je Leda Arfadžan? Zašto
je ona došla u Klikovac na igranku na
sastanak s oženjenim čovjekom, a mladići
koje vi povlačite su zlato?”, pa onda
još jedan telefonski poziv iz seoske
mjesne zajednice, pa još jedan iz
490
Suze Dauta Arfadžana peradarske farme, pa još jedan iz
Socijalističkog saveza, te iz mnogih
drugih društveno-političkih struktura, i
tada se od tog trenutka istraga gnusnog
zločina preokrenula na ispitivanje
Ledinog morala i Leda će se odlučiti na
ćutanje, te će uporno ćutiti pred onim
picanom sve do šestog avgusta kada se
bacila nesretnica s mosta vjerovatno ne
trepnuvši što ću ja o svemu tome misliti
i kakvu će pustoš u meni ostaviti, mada
ja, istini za volju, ne vjerujem ni u
Boga ni u Đavola, morao sam u sebi
suzdržati višak očaja i da mi ne pođu
suze na oči, stisnuo sam kapke očne
koliko sam god mogao da ne vidim kroz
prozor kako pronose na vrelom
avgustovskom suncu drveni kovčeg s mojom
curicom, pa sam tad jasno zamislio njenu491
Sead Mahmutefendić
sitnu priliku - unutra - toliko jasno da
sam isti čas morao udahnuti vazduh što
sam god više mogao kako me ne bi
zagušila sparina nakon čega sam još neko
vrijeme usredsre-đeno piljio u šare na
linoleumu, te nisam imao snage odvoji-ti
oči od tih čudnovatih arabeski, misleći
- mada nisam nikad vjerovao ni u Boga ni
u Đavola - čije li je djelo u onom
prostom drvenom kovčegu: Božje? đavolje?
ili moje?, i od toga mi je krv
zastajala, te sam naprosto, osjećao da
bih mogao isti čas postati pobožan, a
ako to ne uspijem, da bih se uskoro
mogao predati činima Đavola te biti
njegov ushićeni sluga samo zbog toga što
su se moje oči nagledale svega za ovo
nekoliko zadnjih mjeseci pa sad
492
Suze Dauta Arfadžana preneraženo zirkaju u novog inspektora,
kome je sva stvar oko Lede predata i za
kojeg sam čuo da važi za stručnjaka u
takvim poslovima, te da je svojevrsni
čistač, jer je više puta uspijevao
razmrsiti klupko pred kojim su drugi
nemoćno spuštali ruke, i koji mi, kratko
i krajnje službeno reče da je pročitao
tri toma dokumenata, izjava, izvještaja
i karakteristika, ali bi bolje bilo da
nema ničega; jednostavnije bi bilo
početi iz početka, jer je shvatio da tu
ima mnogo lažnih izvještaja pa je za
godinu i po dana laž očvrsnula i stekla
izgled istinitosti, pa kako je sad
razbiti? i kako je sad razdvojiti od
gomile koju je napravila teška
artiljerija, druže moj, lako je
ispričati što radi istražni sudija,493
Sead Mahmutefendić
daleko je složenije kako se pronalazi
istina u njegovom poslu, jer svako lako
prati svoju misao, čak usmjerava njen
tok, ali kako, odakle i iz kakvih
skrovišta nastaje misao? pokušajte,
druže Arfadžan, shvatiti tu zagonetku
približno tako u kontinuitetu, iz dubine
iskustva, intuicije, profesionalnih
spoznaja isplivava u početku
predpostavka, zatim se ona pretvara u
verziju i tek poslje napornog rada u
dokaz ili opravdanje pa je u mnogome
ovdje istinita šaljiva izjava Ajnštajna
o tome kako se vrši otkriće: svi znaju
da je to nemoguće; postoji jedna
neznalica koja to ne zna i ona vrši
otkrić; eto, odprilike, nešto kao ja,
druže Arfadžan, ne mogu to tačno
494
Suze Dauta Arfadžana objasniti jer nisam pjesnik, ja - vidite
- kad postoje makar kakvi-takvi
činjenični tragovi... evo, na primjer,
sjećam se istrage, tada je u bolnici
umro neki Fišić od mnogih rana koje su
mu nanesene, kako su dokazivali
materijali istrage, u pijanoj tuči kraj
pivskog kioska, a onda je na stolu mog
kolege zazvonio telefon, javila se jedna
žena, koja se nije željela predstaviti i
rekla da čovjek leži kraj kioska: bila
je tuča i Fišić leži tamo, ali nisu to
mogli učiniti njegovi drugovi u
pijančevanju i nanijeti mu takve rane te
su tražili nekog ko je očigledno nestao
s mjesta događaja pa ga nisu našli, a
ja, druže Arfadžan, koji sam kroz dvije
godine preuzeo istragu, pažljivo sam
pročitao medicinsku eksper-tizu, pa sam495
Sead Mahmutefendić
onda u tom kopanju obratio pažnju na
jedno-stavnu stvar: sve rane i
ogrebotine nalazile su se s jedne strane
tijela nakon čega mi se u glavi rodila
predpostavka da su bili u nekoj
zatvorenoj, tijesnoj prostoriji i da se
to nije dogodilo kraj kioska pa je
dalje, kako se to kaže, bila samo stvar
tehnike: tukli su Fišića ženini rođaci,
u kuhinji između stola i frižidera, pa
je moj kolega izvodio potpuno logičke
zaključke o nepoznatom, ali nije mogao
uvi-djeti ono što je jasno i razgovjetno
napisano u ekspertizi, jer obratiti
pažnju na očigledno nije tako
jednostavno, tako i u slučaju vaše kćeri
Lede Arfadžan, jer ona više neće ništa
dodati svojim četirima izjavama: jedna
496
Suze Dauta Arfadžana okrivljuje mla-diće iz Klikovca, a u
trima uzima krivicu na sebe, pa je bio
logičan zaključak predhodne istrage: ili
je stvarno u prvoj izjavi lažno optužila
mladiće, ili su joj zaprjetili, a možda
su je i potplatili; u bilo kom slučaju
izvodi se zaključak koji osuđuje Ledu -
zašto četiri izjave? zašto je Leda tako
uporno uvjeravala da je svemu ona kriva?
jer, uzgred rečeno, pravnici znaju takve
slučajeve da je “žrtva” sličnog zločina
obična ucjenjivačica dok je, u drugim
slučajevima, granicu između udvaranja i
zločina teško sa strane utvrditi, pa se
neko i koristi da izmami novac, da se
osveti, pa je takva verzija u tom
slučaju i figurirala: lažno je optužiti
iz osjećaja osvete, ali zašto je ona
izvršila samoubistvo? ne povezuje mi se497
Sead Mahmutefendić
to u jedan lanac, mada se prethodna
istraga, potpuno logički, sukobljavala s
mladićima, vjerovatnim uzročnicima
zločina, koji su umjeli zauzeti čvrstu
kružnu odbranu: očigledne činjenice nisu
poricali, ali su im ipak davali
ubjedljivo objašnjenje, jer se, poslije
događaja od 27. marta, niko od njih nije
s Ledom susretao, pa u čemu je onda
stvar? zašto se Leda jednostavno nije
odrekla optužbe, već je tri puta
okrivljavala samu sebe, pa se u postupku
povlačio motiv: ili je, prvo, sama bila
vrlo lošeg ponašanja, a - drugo - da
nije bila te noći “baš sasvim pri sebi”,
te da bješe “nešto više zanesena”, što
se meni učinilo najprije kao nespretan i
glupav zaključak, a možda i povlađivanje
498
Suze Dauta Arfadžana drskoj i zlonamjernoj zloupotrebi
presude ranije porote, kojoj u
nedostatku dokaza, poštenja, volje i
obične logike, nije ništa drugo
preostalo već da donesu oslobađajuću
presudu za četvoricu mladića te tako da
javnosti prikažu Ledu kao hirovitu,
luckastu i lakoumnu djevojku, pa mi se,
stoga, učinila primamljivom i sasvim
opravdavajućom mogućnost da sam
raskrstim s Ledinim napasnicima time što
ću u ponovljenom suđenju blijeda lica,
pritajenog i zloslutnog ushićenja stati
za ogradu ispred sudačkog stola, a potom
im okrenuti leđa, te sam ne tražeći
dozvolu od njih da govorim, počeo sasvim
tiho pripovijedati, a potom nešto
glasnije, dovoljno glasno da me čuju i
oni u posljednjim redovima, legendu o499
Sead Mahmutefendić
kralju koji je živio sa svojom lijepom
kćerkom, okružen ljepotom, nježnošću i
srećom tako da je izgubio svaki oprez,
pa zadnjeg dana zime, na molbu
sveštenika, dopusti da se pripadnici
njihove sekte nasele u njegovu
kraljevinu; mračilo se kad nekoliko
sveštenika stupi pred kralja kazivajući
kako mu se moraju dostojno odužiti za
ukazanu pažnju i, da bi mu na neki način
iskazali svoju odanost, zamoliše ga da
im pusti za tu veče njegovu prelijepu
kćer kako bi mu preko nje odali čast
osobitom ceremonijom na što se, u
početku, kralj nećkao i govorio da mu
takva vrsta časti nije potrebna te da će
biti najsretniji ako se budu osjećali
zadovoljni u njegovoj zemlji, ali
500
Suze Dauta Arfadžana sveštenici su inzistirali da je takva
počast u skladu s njihovim religioznim
tradicijama i da će na takav način
jedino umilostiviti svoje božanstvo,
boga rata, te ako to večeras ne bi
učinili - svi bi pali u njegovu nemilost
a s njima i svi oni koji bi živjeli na
toj zemlji, pa kad ču njihovo
obrazloženje, kralj popusti i dopusti
kćeri da joj tu veče ukažu počast svojim
ceremonijama, te se ona odjenu u
najljepše haljine što ih je imala i na
rastanku je otac poljubi u čelo i reče
joj da se rano vrati a on će to
prenijeti vojnicima koji će otići po nju
pa ona, saslušavši riječi svog oca,
iziđe iz dvora te stiže pred hram kad se
već poprilično smračilo i pred kojim su
je već očekivali sveštenici a jedan je501
Sead Mahmutefendić
od njih prihvati za ruku i uvede u hram
u čijem pročelju, pri svjetlosti lučeva
drveta, stajaše ogromno božanstvo
umotano u svežanj krpa i ona isti čas
osjeti kako joj nozdrve ispunjavaju
teški mirisi tamjana i smole, i sve je
to osjećala gledajući u isto vrijeme
dvojicu sveštenika s maskam na licima
kako izlaze iz jedne pokrajnje
prostorije, prilaze joj, skidaju je do
kože, vezuju je lanenom oputom za drveni
stub, te jedan drugi sveštenik s krinkom
jaguara na licu prilazi joj držeći u
ruci nož od opsidijana kojim joj
najprije zareza kožu po ramenu prema
vratu, te tako uradi i s druge strane, a
zatim nastavi s rezom duž ruku, pa kad
proširi rez, predade nož drugom
502
Suze Dauta Arfadžana svešteniku i poče zavlačiti prste pod
kožu, a sveštenici su u određenim
vremenskim razmacima, čas ubrzavajući,
čas usporavajući, ispuštali u zanosu dva
mukla glasa: “Hu! Hu!” koja su
pojačavala i jačinu i gustoću zavisno od
krikova i urlika koja je ispuštala
nesretna kraljeva kći dok su u
beskrajnoj buci i galami oko zguljene
djevojke igrale utvare s maskama na
licima i u deliriju izbacivali nesnosne
zvuke udaraljki, bubnjeva, kamena o
kamen, a onaj koji je zgulio djevojčinu
kožu, već ju je navukao na sebe i
svečanim korakom, plešući oko oltara,
uvodio sebe polako u trans, pa su svi
prisutni sveštenici imali sretan,
orgastičan izraz na masci jer su bili
sad svjesni da je proljeće došlo i da je503
Sead Mahmutefendić
ove godine već na pragu, i da će sunca
biti dovoljno, i da će sve oživjeti i
vratiti se iz svog mrtvila što znači da
im je bog oprostio sve grijehe, pa zbog
toga nekolicina sveštenika padoše u
takav zanos da se srušiše na zemlju i
kroz usta maske pojavi im se pjena i
kliznu niz šarenilo boja na zemlju, a
drugi su zapinjali nogama o njih jer ih
nisu ni primjećivali... i tek tad čuše
kako neko strašno i užasno lupa na vrata
hrama, te svi istom umukoše i niko se ne
pokrenu: svijest se borila s
omamljenošću, a onda, tek jedan od njih,
priđe im i otkloni drveni mandal s njih,
u hram nahrupiše vojnici, gdje je
djevojka? gdje je kraljeva kćer?
upitaše; - djevojka je s bogom, odgovori
504
Suze Dauta Arfadžana sveštenik gledajući preko vojnikovog
ramena u kralja, djevojčinog oca, te uz
dubok naklon napravi mu slobodan prolaz
prema oltaru, pa kralj, u prvi mah, ne
razabra po mračnom hramu što se to u
stvari zbiva, on upali tamjan, rasplamsa
se plamen, pred njim je u preostalom
transu plesala prikaza odjevena u kožu
njegove kćeri od čega se kralj zaljulja
i vjerovatno bi pao da ga vojnici ne
pridržaše, on ponovo otvori oči i samo u
jednome trenu u njima se javi slika
njegove lijepe žene na samrti koja mu je
tad, prije nego što je ispustila dušu,
rekla da osjećaj za drugog i potreba za
ljepotom donose samo čovjeku nevolju, te
on istog časa, kad se sjeti tih riječi,
strže masku s lica najbližeg sveštenika
i navuče je na svoje pa onda, dignuvši505
Sead Mahmutefendić
obje ruke uvis, dade znak da bubnjevi
gromoglasnije zalupaju i da hram ispune
dimovi tamjana, pa onda riknu kao jaguar
i poče puzati i šuljati se po zemlji,
još jednom riknu i stade trčati
četvoronoške, priđe onoj prikazi, uze
oveći kamen sa zemlje i svom snagom
udari je po glavi, pa kad vidje
srušenog, kamenom mu poče lupati po
lubanji, koja se raspršti i ispod nje se
pojavi mozak, a on onda zgrabi sa svih
deset prstiju mozak i natrpa njima svoja
usta; žvakao ga je, gutao ga, a onda,
najednom, kao da se sjeti nečeg, stade i
iz usta, u kojima je još bilo
neprogutanog mozga, ote mu se dva puta
krik da je došlo proljeće! da je došlo
proljeće! i on raširi ruke, zalepeta
506
Suze Dauta Arfadžana krilima i vinu se visoko, visoko u
magični let put neba, gospodo sudije!...
ja ću uskoro put neba jer vidim pred
sobom same prikaze i to mi moje srce
govori koje osjećam kako sa suzama
naviru na oči i ja, prekinuvši svoj
govor, vidno uzbuđen od svojih riječi,
zacakli očima, te mi moj glas u zraku
bruji kao zadnji akord orgulja od
strasnog uzbuđenja, glume i prezira, a
onda osjetim da bi me mogla ova šutnja
izdati te moram sad izbacivati nove i
nove riječi, tražiti ih, kopati, ali
koje? nijedne riječi ne mogu se sjetiti
niti pronaći je, više nisam za to
sposoban, a ako to ne učinim, ovi ljudi
za sudačkim stolom, prisutni u sudnici
će se, sasvim je izvjesno, uskoro
probuditi, a ja nemam riječi da ih još507
Sead Mahmutefendić
uspavljujem, ja, jednostavno, nemam više
riječi i mislim da ih nikad nije ni
bilo, pa mi onda ništa drugo ne preosta
nego da pođem ka stolici na kojoj sam
prije sjedio, pa kad bijah ispred one
četvorice zvjeradi ugledam kako mi Leda
maše iz daleka križajući u vazduhu
rukama podignutim uvis, a ja onda
ugledam razvezanu mi pertlu na lijevoj
cipeli pa zastanem, te se sagnem da je
zavežem, a onda, najednom, uhvati me
strah da mi ona ne spadne s bolesne noge
i ne otkrije sve, pa ja, brže bolje,
zavučem ruku pod taban, te potom još
brže izvučem u znojavom dlanu
priljubljenu beretticu te isti čas počnem
pucati u one jaguare osjećajući da mi je
lice moćno, žuto, da oči nezdravo
508
Suze Dauta Arfadžana gledaju a izraz mojih rascijepljenih
usta bješe gorak nakon što sam sasuo
cijeli šaržer te teatralnom gestom bacio
prazan pištolj pod noge mladića, koji su
se na optuženičkoj klupi još trzali i
izdisali na očigled šokirane sudnice i
desetine novinara, koji će isti čas u
školjke sudskih telefona kreštati svojim
redakcijama da se na prvim stranicama
što je moguće krupnijim slovima
obavijesti javnost o nečuvenom zločinu u
našoj sudskoj praksi s naslovima na
brzinu izmišljenim: ANĐEO OSVETE PRAVI
REVOLVERAŠ. PUCAO SAM U SVE MUŠKARCE
SVIJETA ZNAJUĆI DA NAMIČEM OMČU NA SVOJ
VRAT. PODMUKLI ZLOČIN S NAMJEROM, dok je
u jednom naslovu bila najavljena i
ovakva mogućnost: UKOLIKO SE DOKAŽE TEZA
509
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