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Literature (prose and poetry)

Lynch
By Zaur Gurban

– "Elnara was also abducted."

Unlike most of other girls, Elnara was abducted against her will, in the morning, in broad daylight, in front of the people's eyes, in spite of her heartrending cries. She was pushed into a car and driven away. The people gathered at my aunt's place were discussing the incident. I could not refrain from a remark regarding our mentality.

– Oh bibi¹, you say that our men beat their women because of problems of honor and self-respect. The girl was abducted in broad daylight and no defender of honor stood up for her?

– Shut up, don't offend our men. The bull-calf will not be caught if the girl does not make eyes. Don't pay attention to the fact that she was shouting. The girl would not have been abducted if she had been against it. Why doesn't someone abduct me?

– No one will abduct you even if you make eyes.

Everyone laughed.

– I say, Rafail's love smashed against the rocks – my aunt said, making everyone smile except for me.

– What does Rafail have to do with it? – I asked. Rafail was considered to be mad. Every village has its madman and Rafail was considered such.

– Didn't you know? Rafail swore an oath to the girl, but did not achieve his dream, – everyone laughed again at these words.

I have never met Rafail. His father was a wealthy man, he was called a kulak in the village. They say Allah punished him with Rafail's birth for his cruel temper. Rafail was not a quiet madman. He could attack people for no reason. In any case, this was what the village women said about him.

They say he went mad because of his love for Elnara. He was called a madman for his nervousness and unique behavior. He loved Elnara, but after graduating from a technical school in the city, she returned to the village wearing trousers and the circumstance that she was one of three girls among the village population numbering more than one thousand who wore trousers became the reason for him not to send matchmakers to her house.

However, his rich father's wish to marry his son in accordance with folk traditions met even a stronger opposition. He attempted to ask the girl in marriage secretly. But Elnara's father refused to marry his daughter because of the secrecy of marriage proposal and non-observance of traditions. Moreover, he mocked the "courage" of the matchmakers. The mentality rites finally shattered Rafail's nerves.

One of my hobbies was walking around gorges and hills of the village where my father grew up with his childhood memories. The biggest gorge in the village was called just Gorge, while the rest were unnamed. The Gorge was edged with hills on all sides and the village was on the top of one of the highest hills, hanging over the Gorge. The village was like headquarters of the Hills patronizing the Gorge.

I was strolling around the slopes of the hills together with my father, talking about all kinds of things. We reached the river running on the bottom of the Gorge.
There was a track of a canal leading from the Gorge to the top. My father said that the Armenians had dug the canal. The village was formerly populated by the Armenians. They left the village when the Western Azerbaijanis settled there in 1948 and 1988. The canal was narrow and not deep, yet quite long. One end of the canal led to the river and the other, according to the law of physics on connecting vessels, raised the water to the very top of the hills where there were crops and orchards. There were many such civilization structures in the village dated to the time when the village was populated by the Armenians, but what reached our days was only their ruins and only those irrigation canals struck one's eye.

The village, 65 km from the regional center, was a quiet place. There was no mosque either in the village or in four or five neighboring villages. Two or three mullahs served the population of those villages, giving the last honors to the dead and conducting the relevant rites.

The people that saw no good of either Islam or independence missed the time when the Armenians lived here, and called it "golden age." Perhaps that was why even the division of the village into the Shia and Sunni was quiet ridiculous. The people who did not know properly about the Shia and Sunni², were simply divided into the Uppers (upper part of the village, populated by the Shia) and the Lowers (lower part of the village, populated by the Sunni). The "mator"³ formed the border between the Uppers and the Lowers. (The transformer in the center of the village was called this way).

Looking at the "Armenian canal," the village residents cursed the genes of their people, reproached themselves and more and more lost faith in the future, found it difficult to choose a position on the Karabakh war, and the involuntary envy made them hate the Armenians. Hatred for the Armenians, propagandized all the time, hatred that even the television channels spewing out anti-humanistic and racist propaganda failed to cause in people was easily caused by the Envy. The Armenian canal in the Gorge was unknowingly a strong tool in the racist propaganda by the authorities. Hatred for the Armenians became part of the customs and traditions of the villagers, such as matchmaking, wedding and funeral, and stuck in their heads. Unlike the centuries-old mentality, the "Armenian hatred" could be eliminated in a short time by means of effective propaganda and enlightenment, but as there was no such propaganda, hatred for the Armenians became a constituent of the way of thinking, behavior and life of the villagers. On that day, the day before Elnara was abducted, I took a walk around the Gorge together with my father and then we came to my uncle's home on the top of the hill. After a long fight with some unknown insects, we went to bed at a time called "children's time" in the city.

I could not fall asleep for a long time, I tossed and turned and fell asleep heavily. That's why I was not aware of the disorder that occurred that night. It turned out that mad Rafail had passed through the "net" serving as a courtyard fence and frightened my aunt, and my uncle drove him away with difficulty.

Formerly, when Rafail was still "sensible," he used to pass through our net towards Elnara's house, which was nearby, and talk to her through the fence. But after he went mad, no one thought the girl would talk to him, and therefore they turned him out.

Abduction of a girl in broad daylight was considered surprising, even for such a retarded village. Abduction usually occurs in the evening. As it was expected, that abduction indeed turned out to be unusual. After the abduction, her father and relatives set off in pursuit but failed to run down them and came back sad. As it is the custom, they turned away from the girl as they were sure that the girl would be raped on arrival (and maybe even on the way), and even if it did not happen, her name would be disgraced anyway and what was most important was not the girl's fate, but the discredited reputation.

In one word, everyone was sure that the girl was taken away for good.

However, the girl did not want to submit to the customs of the village and we learned that several days later.
Two days had passed since Elnara's abduction. The village lived its everyday life. Perhaps only the girl's family and I remembered about the girl. It was a hot midday and we were at home, in shade, when my uncle's younger daughter, going out to the balcony, said worriedly:

– Elnara has come back, eh...

– Aaz⁴, which Elnara? – my aunt asked without looking up.

– The daughter of mister Ismail, yes. She had been abducted.

– How did she come back, aaz? Who did she come with?

– I wouldn't know. Cries are heard from their house. They say Elnara has come and there is a scandal at their home.

Relatives, neighbors… all gathered at the gate of mister Ismail. The crowd of viewers entered the courtyard soon and some became participants of the unfolding scene. Grey-haired women, considered as authorities, moved forward in a column, waddling like penguins and swaying their impressive breast. In the center, at the porch of the house, mister Ismail was shouting loudly, snatching Elnara's hair:

– How could you come here, whore? Answer, bitch! You disgraced me.

The girl said nothing and made no resistance to her father, she only wept, bringing her hands to her head automatically, with pain.
On the right, several women were holding Elnara's mother, who was unconscious. She opened her eyes from time to time and seeing it, fainted again. On the left, Elnara's younger sister sat shrinking into a corner with fear, holding her head with her hands, and looking with horror at the future awaiting her.

Elnara's little brother, the family's last-born child, was very much scared of his father, but now stood victoriously, looking at him proudly.

Ismail kishi⁵ did not know what to do. It was self-evident that there was to be punishment, according to the villagers' imperative, but the punishment procedure was not quite clear and definite and implied freedom of choice.
The interest in the incident had to do with choosing a punishment. How will Ismail kishi punish his daughter – this was the question everyone was interested in, and therefore, no one from the crowd left. It was considered a personal family matter in the village. Despite the fact that everyone gathered there to observe the sight and, for that purpose, they even were not ashamed to break into a foreign house, everyone preferred keeping silent on issues requiring resoluteness and courage.

The men considered the aksakals⁶, aksakals6 of the village were intentionally late so that their interference would not be discussed. The crowd was also waiting for the outcome. But Ismail did not beat the girl. He kept snatching her hair and bringing his face close to hers, shouted at the top of his voice and asked questions. His hands were already tired when he looked up and noticed the "uchaskovy" ⁷ in rubbers, rolled up trousers and torn camouflaged shirt.
Anyway, he could not beat his daughter, so he pushed her, threw her to the ground, squatted and repeated, holding his head with his hands:

– You buried my honor, you buried my honor...

Several people came up to Ismail, squatted next to him, shaking their heads disapprovingly and looking at Elnara with hatred. Elnara was still lying on the ground, covering her face with her hands and weeping. Elnara's mother regained consciousness and said lowly:

– I said then that the one born to a dog would become a bitch.

– What are you talking about, Senem, what dog do you mean? – the women asked her.

– I mean the Armenians, yes. We kept this bitch to ourselves when the Armenians left. We had no children and we wanted her to be our daughter. But she brought this disgrace on our heads.

– Damn it…Have we seen anything good from the Armenians? So can we see any good from this bitch? – voices were heard from all sides.

The crowd became animated and began to move. Hatred for the Armenians, mixed with hatred for prostitutes, in the villagers' mind went out of control. Lynch was coming up.

Elnara heard that news for the first time. She looked up. Her hands slid down her face and caught hold of her lower teeth. Her eyes turned into four with horror and surprise, and she turned her glance at her mother.

– Look at her! She has opened her impudent eyes in astonishment as if she is not an enemy, – the old woman mumbled with her toothless jaw

Envy towards the Armenians, accumulated in people for years, hatred for pieces of civilizational culture created by the Armenians began to boil against Elnara in a single moment. Her little brother was seen holding a knife in his hand:

– I will kill her, she is Aymenian, Aymenian (not articulating the letter "r")

Everyone rushed to the child, as if he was holding a gun. Someone kicked Elnara, who was lying on the ground. She gave a cry of pain. Her cry made the crowd even angrier and the terrible Lynch started. Elnara covered her head with her hands, turning into a defenseless clot. The men for whom Elnara's beauty was inaccessible, the women who envied her, who lived an unhappy life trying to make unhappy those who to this or that extent dared to go beyond the generally accepted principles of life, delivered her one blow after another. There was a pool of blood on the ground and Elnara's lifeless body showed no sign of life.

Suddenly someone from the crowd shouted:

– Rafail is coming, give way.

Those beating Elnara parted. In their eyes, Rafail was as if sent by Allah, and they thought he would beat the girl and free the crowd of responsibility.

Rafail was holding a crowbar in his hands. However, he did not move towards Elnara. Coming up to Ismail, he immediately hit his head with the crowbar. Blood spurted from his halved head. The crowd rushed to Ismail. Rafail came up to the girl, picked her up, shouldered her and stood before the crowd.

One of the aksakals said:

– Give way, let him take her away and finish her off with a crowbar. The village will at last get rid of responsibility for her and get rid of her.
It was an excellent proposal and the crowd parted immediately. With the lifeless girl on his shoulder, the madman walked through the crowd that went crazy for the sake of traditions.

Everyone considered Rafail mad and was afraid of him, while Rafail thought the crowd was mad, and overcame his fear with humaneness.

Then the crowd broke up gradually. I left the village and was back in the town several days later. I went to the village again only six months later. While still in the town, I asked my cousin about Elnara over the phone:

– Rafail killed Elnara, yeees...

I did not believe it. But I could do nothing about it, the girl had died anyway. When I visited the village six months later, the first thing I did was ask about it again. My cousin said in a whisper:

– The district police officer has prohibited to speak about it. Elnara died when she was still lying on the ground, when she was being beaten. Rafail took her away and buried her in the 'Armenian canal'.

The superstitious villagers did not come close to the canal. Every Wednesday (day of Elnara's death) Rafail came to her grave and sat there for hours. No one dared to come up to him.

Children watched Rafail furtively and he looked at them with such an air as if it was they who had killed Elnara.

I also heard that it was the first time people saw Rafail crying when he was burying the girl. He wailed at night. The wail was heard at the Sunni cemetery in the upper part of the village and the Shia cemetery in the lower part. The villagers could not sleep that night. It seemed to them that the deceased at the both cemeteries wept.

My cousin added with tears in her eyes:

– Bitch Senem slandered her, Elnara was not Armenian. It was told by an old woman who best of all knew all the Armenians formerly residing in the village...

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