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Journalism

Isn't it love that...

02 May 2010
by Narine Daneghyan

It was a warm autumn evening. The sunrays were filling my room through the open window, were playing with my hair, and were trying to seize the pen away from my hands. Go away you mischievous rays! I'm busy! I can't play with you today. I think, I must write about war. Well, you persuaded me. I will stand by the window for a while, will look at the white top of Massis, and will admire the autumn red and yellow of Hrazdan Gorge.

That's enough, I am going to write.

I cannot explain why I always think of "war" as the only antonym to the word "peace." War and peace. People have fought for centuries, killed each other, destroyed developed cities, and brought to the ground all the miraculous buildings which were created once by people like them. Then they sign peace treaties and become joyous, after having made all around them suffer. Reconstruction has followed total destruction. People can rebuild houses but can they ever bring back to life their parents, sisters and brothers killed in wars?
"Nar, Nar. Please help me..."

It's Romanik, my younger brother. Here he is in front of me with his English book under his arms; with a pen, as always, in his mouth; with his round eyes looking at me.

"Come, let's see what we can do. Hurry, or else I will forget all I want to write about."

See? I lost my train of thought. What was I writing about."

Oh, yes it was peace...

One can, perhaps, restore and rebuild everything, but never human relations and lives. Where there are innocent victims there is always a bloody revenge. So, any kind of war should be put to an end if we want to see people around us.

"Nar, Nar, come. Be quick, there is a wedding over here. Look, there is no room for cars again. Look at how beautiful the bride is. Come, see the balloons. They are already high up in the sky."

It is Rom again. He has climbed up the windowsill and is having fun.

"Rom, don't disturb me."

I can hear a mix of melodies from outside; it's flooding my room. The music won't stop 'til the morning; the sounds of the people having a party won't let us sleep. What should we do? It's a holiday for them today. I close the window and try to concentrate. How can I convince people to stop fighting? How can I convince terrorists not to burst planes and take over theaters? What's to be done? Isn't it nice when the bright rays of the sun light up the blue sky? When the children make noise playing in the yard? When one can see colorful butterflies on flowers? I so like the noisy wedding party that is disturbing me. Maybe all the people should love each other. Their love should be so great that it doesn't leave any room for offense… Is it that hard to love people?