Habibullo-Eugene Kiselev
A Synopsis of my Life
November 24th, 2019, Sunday, 07:57:00 p.m.
Yekaterinburg, Russia. GMT 05:00
It was still yesterday that I gave a phone call to Łarysa Leanidaŭna Rusakova, my English teacher. She was happy to have heard from me. She said she was sick then. Also, she communicated to me some sad news: our former headmistress Lyudmila Petrovna Kharlamova (Russian: Людмила Петровна Харламова) passed away around three years ago. She had colorectal cancer. This is kind of sad. Lyudmila Kharlamova had made a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, namely, she had reorganized our ordinary secondary school #91 into a secondary school specializing in foreign languages. This was the highest thing she is merited with. ETERNAL MEMORY…
Several days ago Natalia Nikitina gave me a phone call and invited me to take part in a literary soirée dedicated to the Mother’s Day, which was planned to be held at the Anton Chekhov library (128 Malysheva Street) this very day. When I came there, I met Juryj Marcinovič, a professional opera singer. It was only after some time, when I found out this soirée had been organized by Lyudmila Tsarëva and her “Musical and Poetic Courtyard”. Well, I can definitely say that many talented people came to support this activity, but Eugene Lobanov, my Teacher, does not support Tsarëva and her activity.
Right before the soirée, Juryj Marcinovič told me his sad story. He was born in Soviet Belarus in 1942, when the territory had been occupied by the German Nazis. He has never seen his mother. Rather, he remembers her voice, “her beautiful soprano”. Juryj was only able to meet his father personally, when the latter had been released from a forced labor camp after the decease of Joseph Stalin. The father of the future opera singer had received his home not far from the places where there stood an orphanage, where Juryj Marcinovič lived as a little child. (Note: In the Soviet Union, apartments were normally granted by the state and remained the state property. The people who lived there were called tenants for they juridically held their homes on lease whereas the state was the owner of their apartments.) Later on, Juryj Marcinovič left those places, which were in the southern Belarus. This happened right before the accident at the Chornobyl’ nuclear power plant, which was close to the place where he resided. “This is God” Juryj says.
The soirée was opened by a classical song sung by Juryj Marcinovič, Lyudmila Kryazhkova followed him with a cult Soviet song “Nezhnost`” (English: “Tenderness”), shortly after, she sang a classical song. When it was my turn, I read my sequence of poems about children’s toys in Russian. The spectators, who were primarily senior ladies, got interested in me and in my poetry. They asked me about my favorite toy in my childhood, etc. Natalia Fedorchenko, who was with us today, even offered me to continue this sequence with the poems about grown-up toys. Natalia Nikitina, who I called having arrived home, supported this idea and generally praised me for my today’s success.
At about 07:15 p.m. I gave a call to Jəkub Fəizov, but he did not answer the phone. Jəkub called me back at about 07:17 p.m. I asked him about his life and about a mosque which should be built after the “Noor Osman” had been demolished several days ago, which is sad, too. Jəkub answered that the new mosque was being built in the Sortirovka (a subdivision of the Zheleznodorozhny district of Yekaterinburg). I was happy to have heard about that.
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