luni, 30 aprilie 2012

From Delhi Diary by Rodica Anca

To Esha

My dear Esha, even I am not yet able to reach the Internet, I write to you now, and I will tray to send it by Nana’s help. I asked George and Nana, who, both of them, have access to it, to send you a message, but nobody seemed to hear me, even Nana tried herself to come in touch with Radha and failed! I don’t know why. Today, I discovered a shop with access on net, and I am going to try also myself. This is to excuse myself, but you have to believe me, I had not forgotten you! (‘I had not…” or “I have not”, I am not sure, but if I start making this kind of problems, who knows when I’ll be able to write to you. So, try, please, not to observe the mistakes I make, but to look for the meanings of what I am trying to say, please, please. In fact, this is the first letter I write in English after many years, if not the first at all!)
So, coming back, to the main story, we reached safely at home, after too many hours of travel, 22, I think! Nana was waiting for us in the airport. She was happy for a day or two and after that she got used with us, and more or less, from then on, she neglected us. Do you know another kind of children? Anyhow, I am the happy one, having her, at least over the nights, near by, in her room!
This is the second letter I write to you. The first one, which I didn’t send, was written in the Big Friday, before the Easter, and because that time my mood was another one, I will transcribe it to you: “ I didn’t go to church, hope God will forgive me, even I have not any excuse! I prefer to stay at home and write some thoughts for you. In the Easter, children use to go and celebrate in their parent’s house. When we were young, we use to go to my father’s. Now, he is not anymore, all the other older relatives of both of us are gone, so is our time to wait for our child to be home with us! Only, she seems to prefer to be with her friends, and I don’t blame her! What fun can she have with us? Two old people, each of us with his own thoughts, staring absently at tv! By the way, G is suspected of being diabetic! So, not good food, not cakes, not any drink, even not soft drinks, only water, and coffee without sugar! So, not guests, no child, no cooking, not work! For my spinal cord, seems to be a blessing!
Here we came in the springtime again. The trees started growing leave again, some of them even flowers. It is the narcissus and tulips time, and it fills my soul with joy, hope and colors! It is still cold enough inside the house, but outside is pleasant and the sunlight is a blessing! Sometime is raining, other time is sunny but I don’t know why this year I am not as happy as I used to be some time ago. Is it the age? Three-four years back, I used to thank God for the joy of the new leaves and flowers He blessed me with, for another year! Why am I not impressed anymore now?
The three-four friends I have here, are very happy having me back! They are coming almost every morning to see me, have a bit of coffee and talk about the life, prices, grand children, theirs, I have none, to be proud with! Both of us, myself, and G, asked Nana to do something in this problem, and she said: ”you, peoples, must be mad!” But we still hope! (She also tried to send e-mail to Radha, but she could not. It didn’t go away. She asks Radha to try she first, maybe it will work that way.)
So, this Easter is a pour one. Not the traditional lamb, not because of money, but because I am pity for the pour animal. I’ve reddened some eggs, just to respect the tradition, but nobody will eat them. (I had to throw them away!) Instead of lamb, I bought some chicken and some fish, and I think is o.k. But the spirit of Easter is not anymore! Not smell of cakes in the kitchen, not guests to be waited for, not any expectation,  not  any surprise! (Do you see how many “not” I used? That time my mood seemed to be very low).
In the time I was there, in India, my pension got higher, and for few thousands more, I lost much more, because I have not anymore gratuity on transport, and some other facilities I had before, and, anyhow, my pension is very small. Doesn’t matter!
I’ve found my book waiting for me at home and that was a reason for happiness. I am not that proud as someone may think, but whoever read it, liked it. Maybe they were polite, or did they tell the truth? Anyhow, the editor asked me for another one, but I am not sure I will do it. At least not now, because I am not in an adequate mood! I am, somehow depressed, I don’t know why. Maybe I am still missing India, maybe I didn’t find yet my own self and my own place under the sun! Who knows? But I am sure, I will cross this miserable period. Soon! I am not feeling in my best health, maybe this is the cause. This is not at all a happy e-mail. But be sure I will leave behind this period. I hope G’s diabetes will not be confirmed. Will know sure after two weeks, when he will repeat the analyses. He made them twice, each time with another result, so there is some hope next time. It is difficult to cook, I don’t know what to give him to eat, and how much! I eat as much as him, but I must eat more, because I lost some kilos, and I have had ten years ago tuberculosis! Just to have an idea how the life is going on here in “liberty”. I was working myself to death, just to gain some money over my pour pension. Luckily, God helped me to get my health back, but I have to be careful.
So, dear Esha, it was not a merry letter. But in the summer, when this springtime depression will pass, I am sure I’ll feel better!
I am missing the flowers, the university garden, the trees, the birds, and even the naughty monkeys!
And I miss you, I am so sorry we couldn’t be together for longer time. But I hope and pray to God, to bring you here sometimes. I don’t know why we couldn’t see each other more times, but it was a miracle we were together, even for short time again, wasn’t it?  And perhaps writing is an easier way to reach the other’s soul. I have not restrains and inhibitions in writing.”
Here is the end of first e-mail.
Today is 21st May. G has not diabetes! This is very good news. But still he has to eat less, he must get slimmer. Now he walks all the way to his office every morning, more than an hour! And he is happy! He said he feels like flying! Now he is away, on a trip, in North of the country. By train, not by walk! Nana did not came back from the office, I am “home alone” and spend my time chatting with you! My mood has improved a lot from first e-mail up the page. And I think I’ll continue to write tomorrow, because you cannot imagine how hard and how long time I worked to this one! Kisses for you!
Hello, my friend! It is already 7th June, I don’t even remember how many days have passed from my first two pages! Will you forgive me? It seems to be more a kind of diary than an e-mail letter!
Two months passed since I left India. From now I should be accommodate here. But still I don’t know for sure, how and where am I.  I don’t understand why I cannot pull myself together. I feel empty, useless, burden for he others, even I know for sure all these ideas are only in my mind. This is the shock of the oldness, I think. It’s awful.
On 3rd June, we did celebrate 37 years from our marriage! Much more than half of our life! “Celebrate” is a kind of speaking, because it was only in our souls, not feast or friends. Only Nana for a while. But I am grateful to God for every day of all these years, because, good or less good, as they came, all were happy, and we were together, no matter what came on us!  And we were lucky to have each other! Even we quarreled now and then, even were so many times without money, but dreaming and hoping.
Not everybody can say those words! None of my friends I have here, can say they are happy. One of them, Cristina, who was like a sister to me, whom I knew from the faculty, had died 8 years ago, after a divorce from a husband which was cheating her, and the mother in low grabbed her two small daughters. She got breast cancer, and after ten years of suffering, she died. I was with her in the last days. (Her ex-husband died before her, also cancer, I think). She was so distressed, that she did not want a priest!
Other one, Felicia, is widow for more than 7 years!  She has a son, 30 years old, very talented, film director, with some international awards, Ph.D. in USA. But a very bad man, beating and treating her very bad. She is very unhappy and miserable. I think she is going mad.
Ana, was my friend from the childhood, before going to school She was happy, two children, good, both of them, but in one morning, Dan, her husband, died by hart attack.
 And so on…
But I know one, Any, job college, she is happy, but they don’t have children. Maybe is better so!
Elena is not only widow, but her daughter, very good piano player, lost her minds, immediately after finishing the music faculty!
So, I have to be grateful to God, and stop complaining and feeling sorry for myself!
George worked all the day, now is sleeping. He writes a book about the time he spend there, in India, and prepares some papers for the Anthropology Congress, 4th July, in Florence, Italy.
Nana is somewhere, playing bridge.
I am here, with you, after the middle of the night. And I don’t know yet if to send or not to send this e-mail.

July, 6th. My dear Esha, I don’t remember the last day I wrote to you. I am alone in the house. George is now in Florence, for some Congress in Anthropology. And there will he be, till 13th. Nana is also in Italy. She went there since 28th June, in a holiday trip, by car, with three friends. Yesterday they were in Rome, she called me. I hope she enjoys the trip and the places over there. So, I am here only with the dog. Luckily, I have someone to speak to!
There is a Tv channel named PAX, which plays a lot of documentary movies, about different countries, peoples, cultures. Tonight I saw one about Durga Puja in Calcuta. I am impressed by the work of those artisans!
Still I did not send the mail! Even I don’t have and I don’t search for any excuse, I am speaking to you, or thinking to you, almost every day. Don’t get too angry on me, please. Even myself, cannot get an explanation, why didn’t I send the email? I swear I’ll send it when Nana comes back! Love, Nancy.
I cannot sleep, so, I’ll write a bit more.
Being alone, I decided to do some cleansing in the house. Today I was pretty diligence, like a bee! I did wash four washing machines of cloths, went to the market, called someone to repair different things, like lamps, doors, etc. Monday I will have somebody to clean the windows, iron the clots, maybe. I have a full week to make the house look like a drug store. If I am lucky and the day temperature won’t jump over 34 degrees Celsius. The last 4-5 days were over 37! Inside was like hell. I couldn’t move at all. And there is not air conditioner. Only a fan, but I got different pains, and cough. Till last 10-15 years, in this country it wasn’t necessary to have a cooler in the house! I’ll survive the few years I have yet to live on this earth!
I feel lonely, I try to make myself utile, and doing all kinds of things I don’t like to. Instead to read, to write, to paint or draw, or go to movies, or theater, or parks, I cook, wash, and clean, every day, complaining all the time like an old lady, but this is what I am. But it could be worst. At least I am relatively healthy, and I have often days when I am not working at all! And nobody scolds me! But I’ll like to do something pleasant for my soul!
How are Radha and Tara? I saw them so little time! You, also… Missing you, missing them… Why is India so far away?
July 22nd. Again a lot of time had pass and I didn’t write and didn’t send the letter! Shame on me! Many happenings were there, in this time.
First of all, George went to Italy for that congress, you know. He came back safely. Nana, also came home in one piece. I vas very worried for her. Thank God for taking care of her. She has a lot of photos, most of them very good! I’m proud of her!
Secondly, one student from there came here for some summer courses on Romanian language. He is now in another town, Iasi, (reed it Iashee), enjoying the life, I hope! He will come back in Bucharest on 27th this month. I think to send trough him this letter, on a floppy disk. Let’s see!
Maybe you are away this time of summer. Where are you? Is the weather hard over there? Has the monsoon started? I saw some floods somewhere in east. And they screen a serial movie called Mahabharata, I saw only one episode, the third, not a single Indian face! Only black and white! You should see an Arjuna long nosed white male, and Bhima, a very athletic black one! And the ladies are Chinese or some yellow faces. Shiva was a very thin, short, bald and bearded man. Is that “Our handsome Lord from Amattur”, I failed in love after reading “Poems to Shiva” written by some Saints Poets from Tamil, long time ago?  I love those poems! I will translate some of them, just for my friends and me!
15 September 2003!  See what a friend I am! Forgive me, please! The summer had gone, now it is raining a lot, is cold inside and outside. A very proper time for filing sad and melancholic, for thinking to the “immortality of the soul”! I didn’t write to you for such long  time, because I hoped my mood will change. But I realized that it must be my new nature, coming with the age! I became an old sad lady, even I have not always motives to be sad.
In august a student from India came here with a short scholarship,  he paid himself the travel expanses!, and after he finished the courses, he stayed for two weeks longer with us. We took him to George’s sister, somewhere near the mountains, and I believe he felt well there: journeys to five or six monasteries wits the car of our nephew, get-togethers with some young fellows, dancing, barbecuing late in night, plums and apples orchards, and so on. Everybody spoiled him! George said he is his own son from India, and I am sure some old country women believed that!
As always, Nana is busy with her job and her friends, she didn’t came with us. But the trip was for a week, so she had a good excuse! We see her only late in night, if we aren’t asleep. There is not much communication between as, anyhow! It is hard for me, but I stopped asking her where, when and with who, so now she must be happier! Luckily, George is standing by me, and sustains my psychic!
Sometime I wonder if this letter will reach you at all! It grows more like a diary than a letter! I do not ask about you and your daughters, about what is going on there, in Delhi, because who knows if there will be an answer some time. It is like a monologue or a dialogue with you, that you, whom I keep inside my heart, like an alter ego. I am talking to you over the days, not only when I am writing. If the language should be Romanian, a lot of thoughts should flow over you, but so, see how unnaturally my writing comes out! And I have not courage to adventure in some hard themes, only weather, only complaining, only self-pithy (which I am very talented to!). I am ashamed! Promise to improve, or, at least to try!
There was a documentary movie on TV, on CNN, about the “Ambassador” car, and I saw Delhi streets and I felt like I was there. A lot of Indian movies are played on 3-4 Romanian channels. It’s a pity I don’t like Indian movies, but still I saw some fragments. In fact, I do not like any movies at all. I have not patience. I like only SF movies, like Star War, or Dune, or like those. And I love The Lord of the Rings! I have read the book, and I love the author for his blessed talent and for his wonderful style. I keep reading again and again from this book, just to enjoy myself, and I don’t stop thanking him, up there, where he is, for the happiness he gives me, every time I open his book, or even only think at it. Don’t say I am mad. That world, unreal, wonderful, is the one I’d like to live in.
28th September. Last evening we, George and me, went to the theatre. In was an event! For long time, my outings are only to the market! It was a play just on my soul. Waiting at Harlequin. Sorry, I do not know the author, an English man. I will ask G, he knows, he is the smart one, in this family! With some old actresses, who came in this asylum, Harlequin, to wait there for their end. The personages and the interprets fitted very well. There were some very good actresses, old ladies whom we know from our youth, and it was a joy and a big pleasure to see them again! And alive! Why do we remember only the old actors, and why they look to us more talented, more dedicated, than the young ones? And why we think there are not any more such great actors like used to be in our days? And why all the good tings seem to be left in the past? It is the age that’s why!
Some nights back I had a dream: I meet Nana’s former boy friend, with some other girl. Yesterday morning, I really met them, and the girl was just the one I dreamed of! Why? Consciously, I never thought about this breaking between them, I believed I don’t mind, but now I agree with Jung, my subconscious digested the trouble, get in touch with the universal subconscious, and brought to me the information I wanted, even if I didn’t realized it! See haw smart is I? Anyhow, Nana seems not to mind very hard. She is gone to mountains, for two days! With some other friends!
5th October. Now I know “why the hell am I so sad”, as I remember a line from a song: on BBC on line, somebody made a statistic and said that from all the world, the Romanians are the most unhappy people!!! So, there is not any shame that I am like all of us. I’ll send this email to you tomorrow, and I’ll write another six months now and then, when you will hear again of me.
All my regards and all the best whishes for the girls and Andre.
 Yours friend-sister, Nancy.
10th October. Dear Esha. The e-mail had been sent 4 days ago. I don’t know if it reached you, or somebody else is reading it. I asked Nana to help me, she sent it to Radha, I asked her again to send another one, to get a confirmation, she sent another e-mail on your husband address, now, I cannot do anything else, but wait. Or it would be better if I send it by post?  I think that may be the best. Let’s see what happens in the next some days. Here, the autumn started with rainy and cold days. I am like a frog in winter, with stiff legs and hands and neck! The central heating didn’t start, yet, so it is colder inside the house. I don’t dare to use heather, because of the electricity bill! Otherwise, all are going well, over here! George and Nana are healthy and busy, minding their own problems. I’d like to know you received the e-mail, even you have not time for reply. In fact, I don’t even expect one. Love u.

December 8th. Very long time had passed since I wrote above “Love u” Now I have in front of my eyes, on the desk, your very lovely smiling face, I’m looking at you and I feel proud: you are my beloved sister!!! I am thinking at you often enough, especially in the nights, when I want to forget all the over day troubles.
The winter is almost here, even it is not snowing yet, and it is cold, cloudy and depressing. And the bones are aching, and I move like trough the water, slowly as a frozen frog! I’d like to have some news from you. But I don’t mind. I know you are more busy then me. And I can find any answer for all my unasked questions. We are all right all of us. I started working to the diary I kept there, beside every day swiping, cooking, washing and complaining. Nana is healthy and a bit fatter, working and hoping for a trip to Paris in the New Year’s eve, but I don’t thing she will go. She is alone, yet! George has a part time job, teaching literature and journalism in an other town university, only in Saturdays, l50 km away, few money, but I think he should go even without salary, because he is fond of teaching! Over the days he is working in the library, in the nights, he is preparing his lectures. Very busy person! But a kind one!
Dear Esha, it’s Christmas Day. All the work was done, all the things are in their places. I am free! An actor, old friend of George, our age is singing in t.v, old and very sad songs, I listen with nostalgia and try not to cry! So, better I write down some thoughts to you, my dear sister.
Yesterday was a very sad and disturbing day. In the day before it was raining all the time. In the following night, it was very, very cold. In the next morning, it was a disaster! All the doves, which are living in the trees in front and beck side of the blocks, were falling down from the trees, with frozen wings! Some off us went and collected them, fighting with cats and dogs. More than one hundred was saved, but their plums are gone, I don’t know when they will be able to fly again. Most of them are very young. We put them in some boxes in a room destined for washing and drying cloths, which nobody uses anymore. Now we have to wait and see what happens. Till now all are alive. When the weather will improve, they will be released, only those, which cannot fly, will remain to be taken care of. It is very sad. I cried. Today no bird is flying outside!
Yesterday was the day in which the birds were falling in the snow!  
 We have a nice Christmas tree, with many small lights, which I finished to dress only today, because yesterday I was too busy and in the evening to tired to do it. Nana gave me a nice present, a food processor, I was so pleased, that I forgot to give my present to George.  Now, my work in the kitchen will be a lot easier. My present for you is all my love.  Merry Christmas, for you and for yours.
19th  Jan.  2004.  This winter isn’t mine! I don’t recognize it anymore! My winters used to be glamorous, full of joy, pure and white, lighted with bless. No more playing in the snow, or just walking through its whiteness. There is not any joy now to get out in the cold and feel the pure air and let myself covered by the icy sunlight. All is strange to me these days. I am afraid to get out, not to catch some cold, or to break same leg. The snow is dirty, the coldness is too cold, my limbs are too stiff, and my will is too weak. So, why shouldn’t I stay inside and cry for my own pity? It’s easier!
I have some trouble with the liver, for more than one week, feeling tired and lazy. I hate cooking, washing, cleaning!!! Bas! I’d like to do something else, new, but I can’t, so I finish doing nothing! And in the nights I scold myself because I have not any power to start doing something, anything! Of course I cook, wash and sweep almost every day, but this kills me. Where are the years when all seemed easy to do? What a life is this one? I don’t want it!
Today is 5th of March. For such a long time I didn’t write! I am ashamed. When you called, few days back, I was sick, with high fever, and I don’t remember what about we talked, I only know I was very pleased and happy. Now I feel better, it is night, of course, with insomnia and I am missing you. (Just a bit, to light a cigarette). So, let’s start the story. After Christmas an idea started digging in my brain: you remember I told you about the cooking processor, Nana gave me for Christmas present. Because I had not a place to install it, I couldn’t use it. So, I ask a boy carpenter in the opposite block, to make me a cupboard for it. And some shelves to keep diverse things. Till it was to be ready, I thought it would be better to whitewash the kitchen, so, I asked some body else to do it. A lot of money and work. It looked nice, but I needed another lamp, so I bought one. But that didn’t fit too well, so I went and bought another one, which looks better. The first one, I’ve given away to the electrician boy (in fact they are men, but for me, knowing them from their childhood, are still boys). Searching for the lamp in diverse shops, I saw a cooking machine, very nice and costly! I cannot afford it. But my mind started working on this problem. Where from to take the money? I could buy it in installments. But I am 66 years old, so they won’t sell it to me. Only up to 65! Ask George, I told to myself! But I knew he wouldn’t agree, so, in my perversity, I told him that if he agrees, I would cut the smocking to half, and the coffee, too, so I will pay it with my cigarettes.  Isn’t that correct? I even started to smoke only 20 per day for a week, or more. So, he agreed! But till the papers were ready, that object was sold, we tried for a t.v. set, the papers weren’t properly signed, after waiting there for more than an hour, we renounced! So long for my cutting the cigarettes!!! If I have not a motivation, I cannot stop. I wanted to, but if I lost the motive, I started the old habit. Believe me, I was very determined, truly. At least I had something to think about. Now here are some more ideas running through my head, but I won’t speck about them yet. Kisses for you!
6th May. Dear Esha, for some weeks I keep speaking to you in my mind, but I could not put myself together to write. No excuses! But in this night I will do it!
One year and one month passed from our departure. A long period. When has it passed? I cannot remember too many happenings of some importance. But I wanted to chat with you a little. We are all right all of us. Nana still unmarried, George still travelling (now is in Morocco, Casablanca, for 7 days, he will come home on 7th of May), I am still on this world, the dog, still alive. To be cynical: maybe is waiting for me. No, do not think I am mad. It was a cheap joke, I now. In fact, I have nothing to complain, I am feeling well with the health, I am not tired (I am taking good care not to exhaust myself. I believe I am a little bit lazy, but who can blame me for this, only me, but I keep quiet,  even I accompanied George two times to some functions at the Indian Embassy (I am not enjoying this kind of parties, but wasn’t so bad, in the last).
One old aunt of mine and her husband came the other day to see me. She is 82 and he, 83! I had no courage even to think about them, 4 or 5 years passed without any news from them. I was almost sure they were gone! Because she has liver cancer since long time back, and I don’t know their address. I am very happy for them, and I gained some kind of strength seeing them, so vivid, so full of life, in such a good mood, that I got contaminated. Really! Are they old?. They are. Are they ill? They are. Are they in need, living with only a small pension? Yes, they are. Have they a dead daughter at the age of 36? Yes. Have they a granddaughter and a grandson, who don’t care to visit them? Of course. Aren’t they old enough to think about death, loneliness and pains? Sure. So, where from this serenity, this glad for life? Then, why am I so sad, so thoughtful, so unhappy? Why am I complaining all the time? Nothing goes, as I’d like, nothing seems to be as I dreamed. This is my stupidity. When they left, I gave them one book of mine. Do you know what said? “ Oh, very nice of you to write a book. We will go in the park (public garden, I don’t know the word in English), sit under a tree, because it is so pleasant outside, and read it.” Do you believe it?  It was such an invigorating visit. Even now, I still feel good, remembering. And stronger!
It is almost 4 o’clock a.m. I should go to sleep. Tomorrow I must go to the market and buy something to cook, G. comes the day after and, for one week I didn’t prepare anything to eat, Nana is eating in town, I prefer to starve than to move my ass. The short vacation is over, pitifully. But, what the hell, who cares? I’ll stay a bit more. Because I like talking to you, drinking a lot of strong coffee and chain-smoking cigarettes.
Nana has a lot of movies on CD and was kind enough to put some SF on her PC for me, to look at. I spend one full day seeing Dune, and I was very happy, even I have seen it many times before. I saw also Mel Gibson’s movie: “The Passion of Christ”. The part of Mary, Christ’s mother, is played by a Romanian Jewish actress, the most adequate Mary I’ve seen. It was a huge scandal across the world about this movie, form the side of Church, from the side of Jews. But simple peoples liked it. I asked some of my old friends to come and see the movie, and they were very impressed, even crying, and becoming more pious. As for me, I think I am a sort of atheistic person, I have some explanation for this, and in the same time I am afraid not to believe! I am not a church going one. That because we have not this habit, from the communist era. And I don’t like the priests I meet nowadays. I don’t trust them, because they don’t inspire holiness and respect. Then, I cannot see the God as Church wants to make us to. He can’t be the old and frightening man-like person. I feel Him more as your Brahman. And this is another thought that makes me feel uneasy: is it a sin, or is it not? It shouldn’t be, because the God is One, for all people. Anyhow, when I pray, “please, my God, take care of us!” I beg to an unpersonalized God. With the rest of saints, I am ok, I do not negate them. See what hunts me? But is too difficult to speak about this theme in English! And I have no one to speak with in Romanian. And if I read more, then the confusion will be bigger! Only a revelation could help!
Enough for now, it is 5 am. Let’s get some sleep. Bye, sister.
6th Jan.2005 Eight months from last time I wrote in this diary. Too many! Almost forgot the English language.
Today is my birthday. I am 67. So many years and I don’t remember too much of them, as somebody cannot tell a fainted dream. Only few things here and there, few dimmed spots of light, which, from this distance in time, seem to be insignificance. (It’s so difficult to express myself in English, I have to switch the phrase to fit the lack of English words, because I have not patience to search the dictionary. Forgive me, please!)

2nd Feb. First of all I am ashamed for not writing so long time.
I am happy, happy for you and your Radha. Nana brought home the photos and we were enchanted to see how beautiful is she. And Tara. And  Radha's fiancée. And all the new relatives. And Andre. But most of all you were my favorite, I am so glad I could see you, after two years.  Now you've lost, at least, half of your care, you were carrying for your daughters, on your shoulders. I am, still, carrying mine. As you maybe know, our daughter left the home, moving out with her boy-friend, living by themselves in some rented flat, not too far away from us. Now and then, they come and visit us. But she is calling at least once in each day. It was hard in the beginning, for us, but, time is the best healer, so now, we got used to her absence. For me is much easier, not having too big work to do in the house! But this is the only good thing of the problem. If I feel doing some work, o.k. If I don't, same o.k. George is a good husband, he isn't making fuss. But I try my best. Some time I get busy improving the furniture in the house, if I have the necessary money. If not, I wait. And get mad playing "solitaire" on PC.
When I was there, in India, I wrote a diary, in Romanian language, for the friends I have in my country. I worked on it and now it is ready to be published. At the end, I added these few pages I wrote for you, and some photos. In some days - 10 or 15 - the book will be printed. I will send it to you, even it is in my language. George said that it is a good book, he is proud of me!! Of course, it will be not paid author's right, but I don't mind. I'll have some copies to give here and there. About the first book, the fairy-tell, "The Melancholy Prince" two literary magazines wrote some few lines. I am shy, I am not a writer, but one has to try, doesn't it? So, I will leave the world richer with two books, many porcelain figurines, one very dear girl, and some good deeds. Is that enough? Not to speak about bad things or thinks of mine, but those are personally between the Lord and me.
My old enough dog (he is more than 18 years), is giving me a lot of trouble, he was sick, for one month or more, now is better, skinny and spoiled. But I love him as a member of the family. Is almost blind, totally deaf and I have to feed him from my hand. But I still love him! He is my companion along the days, I speak with him, I am nursing him, cooking, washing, and cleaning after him. But I'm not complaining. He is my loving friend.
My old friends come to see me every day, for a chat over a cup of coffee, talking about politics, weather, grandchildren, (sorry, I have not any, but the others have and are very proud), prices, food and a bit of gossip, just for fun. The evenings are occupied with canasta. Not everyone, but almost.
 I couldn't say I am not happy. I feel at peace. After Nana will marry, I hope sometime this summer, then all the things will be in their own place, then I'll be ready for whatever is in store for me. My luggage is almost done!
The winter is now at its full "splendor", with a lot of snow, wind, frost, difficult traffic, cough, bones aches, etc, etc. It had passed more than a month from that unlucky day of 26th December, and still they are showing news from that part of world. So many people died so much grief and sorrow. Why are happening such dreadful events, as the planet does not support us anymore? All kind of people is coming on tv and speak about earthquakes, floods, catastrophes, aliens, apocalypse, scarring the poor old ladies, already with a foot in the grave! I am a kind of a fatalist, what will be, will be.  But still more than 200.000 died there, many of them children! Why? I don't believe God has something to do with it. Karma? Which karma?  This is the Nature, the Mother Nature, killing her children, as a sow kills her piglets while turning from one side to the other, without will, without sorrow, without even noticing what she had done.
Sometime I feel sad thinking that we'll never meet again. I dream you will come in Europe and, happily, in my country. I imagine taking you all over it, in the best places, to show it to you, and feel proud also. But this is a dream. Or, the girls should come here. Nana and her Victor have car, so they really can take them everywhere. But this is another dream. The sad reality is this one, in which I am writing without waiting an answer, just talking to you, that one "You", I keep with love in my hart and in my mind.
 I have your photo just in front of my eyes, I look at it, and feel you just near by, behind my fantasy. Enough for now. I'll continue in the morning. Anyhow I have to wait for Nana to come here, give the floppy to her, to e-mail it to you, so there is plenty of time to write.
5th Feb.2005. Now it isn't any more time. Yesterday I was lazy and stressed in the same time. I was waiting for the veterinarian to come for the dog, he (the dog) got some injections with vitamins, he is a bad dog, always ready to bite, and I am the one supposed to grab him. Anny, the friend of mine who brought him, told him I was in India and he liked me telling how is there, and told that he will like to go there, if, of course, will have the money. I promised him a book of mine, to have some answers, because he had so many questions!
  It was a misty, snowy day, my vital energy was at the lowest level. And I had to act as Birsingh, if you remember him, sweeping the entire house, dusting, washing dishes and cooking some food in Indian style, (that only because I kept you in my mind!). Anyhow, I am good at excuses, am I not?
Today the children are coming, I am excited, I'll do all the cleaning again, but today is a sunny one, so I feel stronger and able to do whatever is necessary without complains.
Nana already sent some photos to Radha, hope you've seen them.
In this time in which I wasn't writing to you, George was in trips in Argentina, France, Italy, for I don't know what kind of congresses, on govt.'s money, of course. Otherwise he would have two-three lives to pay that entire amount! Such are some people: lucky! In the same time, I don't envy him, I wouldn't go for anything in the world. After each trip he writes a book! For his own self, this is a selfish good thing. And proudly! You've heard him specking about Mihai Eminescu, our most important and beloved poet, who wrote a Sanskrit Grammar in 1886. He published the first part of it, (there are three), two weeks back, with the help of some young Romanians, with studies in India, and he is very happy. And proud!
I think I'll continue to write to you now and then, because it makes me feel in a good mood. Even my letters are not entirely understandable. But the whish and the soul I lay down in them are more important.
Now I'll write for Radha some words, out of my hart.
Dear Radha, you and Tara may consider yourselves like my daughters also, I saw you growing up and I love you, as you were mine. So, anytime you are in Europe and you want to visit Romania, please come like to your mother and sister and home, together with your families.
I wish you a very happy family life, a loving and careful husband, the strength to confront the life with all the good and the less good things you'll meet along the path. Be kind, lovingly and forgiving each to other. Never go to sleep scolded. These are my pieces of advice, which worked in my long married life and your mother's also. You'll say I'm old-fashioned lady, so be it, but keep in your mind. In rest all the best for you and your husband to be.
Luv u my friends, all of u!

duminică, 29 aprilie 2012

The Melancholy Prince by Rodica Anca (excerpts)


The Melancholy Prince


Peregrinãrile Prinţului cel Trist

                                                                                           RODICA ANCA

The Thread of Wanderings and Experiences

1. We know the Melancholy Prince and his little friends: Moshopal, the uncle Aurash, Arginviu and the other dwarfs and we find out how they were spending the time in the Palace of Crystal in the Empire of Fogs.

2. What the Melancholy Prince learns from the books of his forefathers and why he becomes still more melancholy. The dwarfs are afraid of losing him and burst out weeping.

3. The dwarfs run in search of the dragon Balaur but they do not find him. Moshopal decides to cut his beard.

4. How some dwarfs walking in front with Moshopal find the Balaur and how, fearfully, they come near him and arouse him putting him in the service of the Melancholy Prince.

5. To the thankfulness of the dwarfs, the Prince smiles for the firs time. He finds in the Faithful Balaur, a reliable companion and they both set out to face the wilderness.

6. We see how hard the road is and how many unforeseen perils are waiting for them on the way. They arrive at an island and the soul of the Melancholy Prince is full of bitterness.

7. What the Melancholy Prince learned about the Trees of Steel and how he became friendly with their daughters, the small transparent fairies. The Prince wasn’t sure if he was dreaming.

8. How on an island, on which to walk you had to draw aside the rays of sun by hand, the little golden fishes from the violet ocean wanted to fly like birds.

9. The Melancholy Prince and the Balaur arrive at a castle. We learn about the Prince with Black Eyes and his story.

10. We arrive together with our friends on a wonderful island. The most beautiful night from the life of the Melancholy Prince.

11. How the Frights who were living on the Wonderful Island were looking and how wicked they were. The Prince, turned into a stone by amazement forgets to defend himself and is caught and dragged before the Emperor Hain, master of that region.

12 What happened in the Gray Fortress and what a sly decision the emperor took. The Prince doesn’t know with what a heavy curse that one has cursed him and, again, remains alone.

13. The Melancholy Prince returns unhappier then ever to the castle. The dwarfs can not comfort him with presents, or with tales and they are full of grief as well. The Prince learns about the Gem which had the power to give life and that punishes wrong. He again goes at the run, in search of this.

14. How they, the Prince and the Balaur, have been swallowed by the immeasurable Apparition. The fight with gorged serpents on the tree in the stomach.

15. About the fight of the Prince with the Greedy Granny and how he was saved from servitude by the Rose with human voice.

16. We learn what a big deadlock came over the Spirit of Earth so that he couldn’t care for his duties. The Prince goes in search of the Blonde Princess.

17. How the Melancholy Prince arrived right in the heart of the mountain in which the dragon Smeu was sleeping and how he was delivered of the curse. The Balaur defeats the Smeu. Happy, the Spirit of Earth gives his daughter as wife to our Prince and, with contented heart, remains quietly to look after his jobs.

18. How under the power of the Life-giving Gem it subdued the Elements which had tried to kill our friend before. The longing for People of the Melancholy Prince is stronger still.

19. What unimaginable changes the Prince found on the Wonderful Island and whom he met at the peak of mountain.

20. The Hoary man felts what terrible happenings the people from the island passed together and how the Hain Emperor became all-powerful.

21. We learn what the multitude of stones from the island means. The Prince together with the Nephew of the Hoary Old-man go to fight the Frights.
22.  We see how the spells of the Hain Emperor have no power against Blonde Princess and Hoary oldman. The Melancholy Prince and his companion fight heroically with countless flunkeys of the Master of the island.

23.  The Hain Emperor turns into a crow. He is caught and compelled to undo the curse whith which he had tied the people.

24.  How the Island regained its wonderful appearance and what is being told about the Palace of Wizards and the Fountain of Tears over centuries.

25.  We return with our Prince to his castle and we enjoy seeing the dwarfs again. The Balaur descends  to his cave to take rest in anticipation of other journeys 


We know the Melancholy Prince and his little friends: Moshopal, the uncle Aurash, Arginviu and the other dwarfs and we find out how they were spending the time in the Palace of Crystal in the Empire of Fogs.
            Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was an emperor of darkness of turbid waters and of storms. No life and you would meet other moving fogs and waters which rushed upon you inimically. The wind fowled so that your hair stood on end, mixing the chasms of the darkness with those of the waters.
            Somewhere, far off, over hostile waters and menacing fogs appeared a wondrous rock, which boasted its summits of flint of high ever higher up, toughing at powerless waves which in vain were whirling and gnawing. The evil winds vainly warned against it; the claws of storms causing merely small scratches. Vainly the deepest fogs were gathering around to hide and frighten it: on the top of its cliffs, the rock was carrying with pride and care a palace of crystal which was shining like diamond and hounded out the dark abysses all around.
            This place on the rock was so beautiful, so alluring that anyone, wandering on the turbid waves of waters, or seeing it, no matter how bereft of powers and hopes he were, would bow down to it as to a life giving one and would gain courage to fight the frights and the languor. But no one human soul had ever caught wigs seeing it because nobody had ever arrived up to the foot of the majestic rock before.
            The palace was so big and so silent that, even when, a rare, steps sounded in its halls the echo was repeated hundreds of times, from room to room till it gradually became weaker and weaker and lost itself who knows in what unknown corners.
            On the ceilings and walls of halls and endless corridors are discovered thousands of precious stones – which are clear as diamonds, others green like the eyes of savage beasts glassily in the night, others red like blood or blue as might were exist somewhere the sky – were spreading their light in hundreds of sparkles and nuances pleasant to the eye.
            But, alas, no soul of man who enjoy and delight at those wonders was visible. In hall after hall if you would run, many days, you would meet nothing else than the silence and beautiful
lights of gems.
             However, someone was living in this palace. Otherwise why would the flint of rock fight the winds to protect him? Yes,sometime, a pale, tall young man, with black hair and dreamy, sad eyes, was driving away in motionless silence carrying his paces over the flags of the palace. He was this Prince, of a strange beauty, to which nostalgia was giving a note of unreal. He was passing the years alone in his palace, reading and learning from the books of his forefathers, waiting for the day when he would go to them like a sweet liberation from the chain of solitude and silence. The Melancholy Prince didn’t know whether in the endlessness which was surrounding him there were existing somewhere other beings, and even if he had know, what could he do, alone, with no help, to reach them. A living desire and a longing which he didn’t understand were calling him and he did not know this was the longing for people like him, the longing for friends and love. How could he know it for he had always been alone and his face was never lit by a smile.
            His only friends were the many dwarfs from the gorges of the rock, the masters of the riches which the flint was preserving since forgotten times. The dwarfs loved the Melancholy Prince strongly because he was good and gentle and with love listened their tales or the small deadlocks. Moreover when he was feeling strongly the pressure of loneliness and the tears stood ready to fall from his beautiful eyes like two sapphires he searched for the glib old men with beards longer then themselves and asked them either about one or the other trying to drive away his ennui and to relieve his sadness. Then his little friends excelled to enlighten his face with at list a smile. But as
much as they would strive, on the face of the Prince appeared only an odd and sad simper in the corner of the mouth.
            Over the dwarfs stood Moshopal, old, old, as old as his beard had grown long of hundred ells, but he became smaller and smaller, so small that he could sleep in a wonderful blue flower,
not bigger then that from the ring of your mummy. All the dwarfs listened to his advise and teachings, because Moshopal was not only the oldest but also the wisest from them. And then, he was never irked at the tricks of the younger ones who, to speak the truth, weren’t babies, but, of course, much older than grandfather himself. Not merely the younger ones played pranks. Even Uncle Aurash the Littlegold, the one who took care that all the gold from the rock to be preserved for the coming times, even though his beard was as white as Moshopal’s and only a little shorter,
what do you think he had done not very long ago to the dear old thing? He had invited a few spiders and thought them how to weave their threads in the beard of Moshopal so that he wondered how his beard had grown so much while he was sleeping. Had he slept for a thousand years? Nay, seeing not so well without spectacles, he was thinking that his beard had passed over the window and fluttered like a flag in the surrounding darkness. And he wasn’t angry at all when he learned about the hoax, on the contrary, he laughed with more gusto than everybody.
            For so were the dwarfs of that rock: when it came to jokes and anecdotes, nobody was as cheery as them; but when it came to work, then the big caves were resounding with their songs while they kept the rhythm with their hammers. And each of them, according to his name was busy with a particular gem or metal. The riches were amassing heap: here only diamonds big as hen's eggs, there rubies, there sapphires, near which are raised full knolls of gold and silver. So many and beautiful rarities I would never know and can scarcely remember. But more precious than all these treasures were the friendship and diligence of the span long old things and looking at them how cheerful they are, and what loving souls they have, behave as if you wanted to be like them also, not bigger than a finger, to have a little hammer as big as yourself and to mix among them at play and at work. It is true that some are like lean Arginviu, quicksilver who gathered from the cracks of stones the grains which were running among the fingers, and who was as giddy, fast and chargeable as the busting drops which he had to take care of. This Arginviu got angry sometimes. And once Arginviu got most irked either with his playful pearls, or with some dwarf hire who was drowning with laughter watching him spitefully as he was making himself thinner, obstinately after the ones which didn't get caught. But he quickly forgave, for Arginviu had a good cheerful heart and couldn't be angry more than a few seconds.
            Their life was flowing silently now with tales, then with jokes and songs and I think our dwarfs would have been very happy if their good Prince were cheerful, and they didn't hear him sighing out with so much sadness. 


 We arrive together with our friends on a wonderful island. The most beautiful night from the life of the Melancholy Prince.

            Now their strange voyage followed easier because many things  had to say each other, many dreams that had brightened their solitudes, many hopes which empowered them to fight sadness and . Hardships of way seemed to them easier and this not because waters would have been less inimical  or winds more gentle, but because the cheerfulness in their souls helped them  to pass through all plagues with serenity and trust.
              They both stood now on through the shrouds of darkness to lightnings full of mystery wich appeared  sometimes in the distances,  trying to imagine what kind of beings would have been living there, hoping always that somewhere on an island with clear skies and flowers of all colors,
in the end, will meet many, many of their fellow men, who they will know and with whom they wil  befriend. Thus, nor did they know when they arrived in the vicinity of a Island that seemed to be just that at which they had dreamt.
             The waters around it were quiet and blue. On the azure sky in the wind breeze ran rolls of white clouds. Its shores, as eyes could see, were covered by golden sand and farther it lengthened the green carpet of grass on which the most different flowers bloomed. Among trees all kinds of birdies flew, singing one more beautiful than other.
            Getting down on the shore and seeing so much beauty and harmony, they said that on this island definitely they will meet those searched for, for too much the things were inviting and wonderful around them.
            After they deliberated a while, they decided that the Melancholy Prince go and research the island, and his friend remain wit the Balaur on shore until he will return and will tell them what he found out.
            And thus the Prince started alone toward greened forest which heightened further. Ever going and looking around him, he saw some details which, in first minutes, escaped to him: he saw how the small and beautifully singing birdies were watched by others big and black; saw how, by place, the beautiful flowers were invaded by high brambles, which were taking all their light and water. And he told himself that this island, between good and evil, between beautiful and ugly, it was carried a struggle on life and on death, a struggle which he, stranger for places from here, only looking with great attention, had observed.
            Ever going and wondering, the night was falling and our Prince saw for the first time how on the clear sky shimmered billions of stars, far, far away, and he lengthened on grass, and lost his sights in the wonderful depth over him, trying to understand mysterious tremblings of the stars, which as if talked to him. And it was silence around him, only springs soughs and night wafts were heard.
            Thus it started the most beautiful night in Prince's life, charmed night, in which the soul was full of edgeless enchantment, as never he had lived.
            But over short time, when over the see the pale and magic face of moon arose, the Prince felt how everything around him takes life and quiver as possessed by spell. The trees, flowers, grass , all and everything seemed plated  with silver, water of spring near by him had turned into quick silver, flowing far away, in the sea, following the light path which the moon had couched on the trembling little waves of waters.
            And when the moon arrived toward middle of vault, from somewhere risen, full of never heard beauty, the magic song of a bird so little, that it got lost among leaves of trees. But what charm was spread  from its trills! The heart of Prince started to sing as well, feeling how all fairy play  from around gathers in its chalice, and to reverse out of it after, full of heat which has filled his soul, and his eyes bathed in tears of delight, seeing such edgeless beauty and peace.
            After a while, the stars and moon started to fade, the sky started to en-light itself in horizon, and the dawn found the Prince still dizzy, by the night delight, night in which he merged with all grass and trees, with stars and sea, with spring water and wind breeze; night in which he had sung in nightingale song, had shinned  in stars gleam, had ran toward moon with silvery waves of waters, quivered in wind with leaves and bathed his face with the silvery rain in moonlight at once with the flowers.
            By day, the mirage from around spilled, but that in his soul remained there for all life.


How looked like the Fright who lived on the Wonderful Island and how they were mischief. The Prince, hardened himself, forgets  to fend off and is caught and dragged in front of the the  Hain Emperor, lord  of that land.

            At dawn, the Prince  hit the road, amid a delightful forest. The trees, old and lordly, were charged with green leaves, squirrels and  and songbirds who saw their affairs at shelter of the thick foliage. Some of the more curious, flashed with wonder their small heads  among the twigs.
The playful squirrels accompanied him  jumping from a tree to another, along the path which winded hidden in the pleasant shadow of the  forest. In the glades full of sunshine and flowers met creatures he had never seen before: deers, bucks, bunnies, foxes, bears and many others which were living in the shelter of that forest cover. But no man!
            When he got out of the forest in which the deers had kept him comradeship and shown him the path,  in front of his eyes a wide plain opened, covered with  boulders and strange shapes. At the edge of horizon the gray walls of a city arose. He went and went among those stones lying everywhere, some alone, others gathered several together, wondering what can be with that multitude of boulders, when, suddenly, he just saw before him, perched on a stab, an apparition which almost tousled his hair on head! It was a  misshape who, at body looked somehow cracked, but, you see, it seemed like a man, but instead of head he had a big fist, which kept pressed a pole as all days, which he was rotating threateningly toward our Prince. This remained nailed to place  in amazement and rubbed his eyes , not being able to believe that what he saw was really.  The apparition howled as high as his fist kept him, crying to him rough words and calling his comrades to do him for. For, the apparition said, he would have come to steel food and  from their richness, or maybe even with the thought to kill His Highness the Emperor.
            At his outcries other few apparitions came, one stranger and noisier than other. Some of them looked like the first one, others, however, had not at all head, but just on their swollen bellies opened a big mouth, shouting that they want him, to eat it alive. Only that these, with all their mouths as penthouse, could not do big thing alone, for they were like some swollen barrels, put on two thin legs, like of stork – barely could keep them up! - that you wondered how don't they break  under the big weight of bellies as barrels. As about hands, what to speak any more that they were long and sapless, and weren't able to work anything else, but only to throw always in unsaturated mouth, mouthful after mouthful.
            Other fearful apparitions had one foot on the shoulders  and believed themselves so clever  with such pates, demanding to the others, which seemed to be a kind of bosses, to catch on the Prince and bring him to the trial in front of Emperor, accusing him  that was walking with♪
heads by down, for they said that the two legs of the Prince  would be his heads, and that it was murder of les-Majesty to have someone more than just a head, while they, so big councilors of His Highness, had only one, and kept it in high esteem, on shoulders and not   derided it leashing  it through the dust! How walked they? Well, they didn't walk! They had two thin scrawny legs of frog, hopping   hither and thither, of more laughter!
                The Prince couldn't believe to his eyes, seeing such misshapes, evil and ugly, just on the island which charmed him so much with beauty and peace of its nights. But after he saw that the apparitions gather around him, ready-ready to strike him down with stones  and bats, and to fasten him with ropes, opened his moth to tell them how did he arrived there and he has no thought to cause them any trouble. But as if he had to whom to speak! Nobody listened to his words, but each searched how to flap him better with the stone or to throw the noose of rope. And look at our poor Prince, who, by amazement, had forgotten even to defend himself, or to take the run toward forest, fastened tightly and full of blood because of stones.
            After making this job, the apparitions, which were enough numerous, sat on boulder to draw their souffle, for powers didn't helped them so much. And, while taking rest, they started to argue, who out of them to take the prisoner in charge. Those with hands on shoulder said that he is theirs, that one of them had seen him the first, and hardly waited to seize with their big fists, which kept place of heads, and to tear him up. Those with moths on the  belly said that he is theirs, for they are more numerous and that without them they would never have caught, and their slobbers  flown of appetite. Those who believed themselves most intelligent, for, see you God, they had the legs on the shoulders, with which to judge, and which, I believe, were the proteges of the Emperor, because finally all the other apparitions listened of them, said that he must be carried and judged by His Highness, who will decide also what punishment will be applied to him.
            Meanwhile the Prince asked  himself repeatedly for which guilt  want they to judge and punish him, because he didn't know himself guilty for wrong deed and nor of a bad thought and needed much time until to understand that this was the nature of the Apparitions from the Wonderful Island: full of rapacity, of wiliness and of wickedness.
            The Apparition sat up taking each from where they could the ropes which kept tied the Prince, and, mostly dragging him and drawing him into all parts, directed themselves limping along toward the gray palace. 


            The Hoary man felts what terrible happenings the people from the island passed together and how the Hain Emperor became all-powerful.       
Long ago, on the island, there were living lots of people, strong, beautiful and good. They were living in peace, everybody watching after his own affairs: some plowing the earth, some grazing the cattle, some were building houses, all the things to make life easier. And so, many centuries passed in happiness and peace. But one day, from the depth of a distant marsh a bad and ugly Shtima has come together with her sniper-snapper, an apparition of a child, big of head, feeble of body, and so bad and cleaver that only his mother outstripped him. This deformed and soulless sorceress wanted to make her son an emperor over the Wonderful Island.
            First she hid in the depth of the forest, in a cave, and from here the dame simulated beggar going to the houses of people allegedly to gain a crust of bread, but in fact with another scheme in mind. She ran day after day, ever praying here and there and met all sorts of people. Many manly men gave her some food, and some cloth to cover herself in the cold. More, some of them told her that she could remain with them, that they would take care of her and she would miss nothing. But you see, the dame knew what she needed. As much as the people showed themselves as pitiful and soulful the more the which hated them with her black heart. Very rarely, she found herself at houses where she wasn't received: the master was driving her away with the dogs, and with the pole fearing she must steal something from the courtyard; another as soon as he saw her coming started rapidly swallowing un-chewed all the dainties from the table, greedy for even a cramp of bread which might be asked by the old woman. And the proxy did meet some others stupid like sheep but who were boasting about their cleverness, others pretended, liars and fluttering ones; others so quarrelsome that you wondered their neighbors didn’t have peace.
            But I must tell you that there were only a few such men at that time. And even they weren’t very sinful. You see, as soon as the old woman came close to them all the wrong hidden in their souls came to the surface about which even they didn’t know till then. The sorceress remembered them and came again and again although those men didn’t try at least to stifle the bad propensities, all the time becoming worse and worse.
            In the night, the old woman was going to her cave where her misshapen son was asking her when will she put at last emperor and how much longer will keep him hidden in that underground
cave. The dame was starting magic and spells and on the next day went right to those whom she liked and was dropped on the gate of each a few drops from the boiled and spelled
            And as today, so tomorrow those men with faults fall more attracted by this old woman and searched trying to enter in her will that the magics had taken possession of them. And they begun to follow day after day till the old plague gathered all of them into her cave. They have gone after her, women and men no one worse and more rascal then the other, leaving children and houses and lands, wanting no more to know about anything but the cheating of the dime who promised falsely to one- power, to another – food and drink, but to others – immeasurable riches flurrying the minds of all that they held on to her word. When she brought the last scoundrel in the cave the dame invited all of them to dinner, trifling them that now they will see the one whowill fulfill all their lusts and so take care not to miss anything.
            I forgot to tell you that the dame had prepared before a charmed drink which she poured in their food, when they stayed at the table and started to feast they turned in to all sorts of mishaps as bad as the defects in them souls to some in lieu of a head; appeared fist, as big as a club for others only the belly remained; to others who were pretending to be wise she put a leg instead of a head; what more, not even one was looking now like a man. And instantly, what smattering of goodness and honesty had still remained in them now disappeared and only the evil was master over their souls.
            When the sorceress brought her son telling them that from now onwards they were his servants, who is their emperor and of whose orders they must listen all of them fell down on their
knees in front of him and no one remembered that sometime he was a free man and didn’t know any master other than his own will. Each tried to outdo the other in flattering to obtain the
mean desires of their souls.
            The emperor was overjoyed! Immediately rowed them four by four and begun to order them like a general. He wanted to go with his army just then to destroy all the living and the good and to take the whole island in possession.
            Then the sorceress charmed once again to make them always victorious and always obedient to her son and all of them left the cave.
            They found a marvelous place, in which the wheat, dense like the brush was rocking in the breath of the wind and when the dame muttered a charm the land turned into a desert full of stones where no living thing moved.
            Here the fresh emperor set his servants to build a big palace but around it were rising, stately, the houses of the dignitaries and the more miserable ones, of the lay servants. They have
surrounded all with a strong wall and all around was turned intostone and ash.
            Once installed among his servants, the emperor started to learn from his mother all the evil bringing charms and spells. He went on learning till the dame told him, ready, now he knows all and she has nothing more to teach him. Then her son watched her till she went asleep, and with his devilish power poured on her a venom which turned the sorceress into a little heap of black ashes.

Translation by George Anca

sâmbătă, 28 aprilie 2012

Colocviile de Marţi

29 mai 2012, ora 17, Calderon 39 



Va rog sa-mi trimiteti titlurile eventualelor interventii la Colocviul din 29 mai, cu tematica:

Apropiindu-ne de Rusalii/Cincizecime/Pogorârea Duhului Sfânt, auzim, în limbile neamurilor, cuvintele lui Hristos: „Dar Mângâietorul, Duhul Sfânt, pe care Tatăl Îl va trimite întru numele Meu, Acela vă va învăța toate și vă va aduce aminte de toate cele ce v-am spus Eu” (Ioan 14.26). „God is the perfect poet” a grăit Robert Browning, bicentenar (7 mai 1812 – 12 decembrie 1892). Serbăm şi doi bicentenari români. George Bariţiu (4 iunie 1812 – 2 mai 1893) a întemeiat, în 1838, Gazeta de Transilvania (Braşov) şi Foaia pentru minte, inimă şi literatură (Blaj). Costache Negri (11 mai 1812 – 28 septembrie 1876) a fost "unul din cei mai nobili bărbați ai românilor, care reprezintă nu numai cel mai curat patriotism și caracterul cel mai dezinteresat, dar și o capacitate extraordinară, căreia-i datorăm, în bună parte, toate actele mari săvârșite în istoria modernă a românilor". (Mihai Eminescu). „Cel slab repetă cuvintele celui puternic prin Domnişoara Iulia şi alte personaje ale lui August Strindberg (22 ianuarie 1849 – 14 mai 1912 – centenarul morţii).

Invitaţi: scriitori, artişti, comparatişti, folclorişti, teologi. Amfitrion, Dr. George Anca 

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George Anca