Musa Akhmadov: The Chechen language is the decoder of all modern languages. Akhmadov, Musa Magomedovich - Night in an empty house Chechen youth theater "Serlo"

We never thought why, if we are so ancient, then we did not have and do not have our own written language. I often thought about this, because we, as a people, at any time, in times of the most difficult trials of wars, evictions, paid great attention to the education of children. At all times we had schools, and that's why we didn't have our own alphabet. I used to think it was because at all times we had to defend our freedom, so there was no time for science.

But recently, my life, my worldview has turned upside down to put it mildly. All science, all knowledge about man himself, about nature and in general about everything around us is strictly controlled by a group of pseudo-scientists.

The Inquisition did not end in the Middle Ages, it changed into more "humane" forms.

I affirm that those alphabets that are artificially divided, scattered over different eras and peoples, are the once single Az Bu Ka, given through the grandson of Adam the prophet Idris (Peace be upon them both). Through education, we are inspired that man has evolved for millions of years, but in fact, man is settled on planet Earth in the same form as now, only of a different size. But now it's not about history, but about the man himself.

We know from the Qur'an that Adam was taught the language while still in heaven and spoke with Allah and the angels.

This means that the parent language must be mathematically precise and unambiguous.

A person consists of three components of the body - a biomachine, the brain - a supercomputer, and the soul - software.

And since any computer needs a programming language, then a person is given such a language and this Aebuka language - in it each letter is a mathematical sign, a symbol.

Let me explain with the simplest example.

What is the letter G, this is an angle. A person sees from an angle, there is an expression angle of view, angle vision. And now let's turn to the letter O, this is a circle. We combine the two meanings, we get GO, - the viewing angle or the Chechen word - “I see”. And so our whole language, with the help of the simplest algebra, allows us to calculate the meanings of the letters of the parent language.

I will continue the example with GO.

If we add one more character, namely the letter D, then we get the word Year, “go” is a visible, observable circle, d is a day. We get the visible circle of days. If we add the symbol O to the word “Go” in front, and at the end H we get the word “fire” again.

The symbol H, this is the beginning of something, look at the spelling, it's like a segment, in a mathematical sense. In the word Nana (mother) - the beginning of the beginning. In the word Hal - the beginning of the dwelling.

An easily understandable letter X - look at the symbol, this is a modern swastika, a wheel of rotation, and time we know rotation. To "X" we add "an" - the sky, and we get the rotation of the sky, i.e. "khan" - time. The word "SakhT" - consists of the symbols Light, rotation and T surface, the principle of a sundial.

Thus, our language has been preserved in its original form and is a decoder of almost all modern languages. I'll give an example of how it works.

Let's take three words denoting one object, namely, English, glass and glas

An - sky, g - see, l, lo - gives, yi - did. Made the sky visible.
C - light, T - surface, ek - divide, lo - gives. Allows light to penetrate.
GLass gives light to see.

Thus, our language allows us to understand the essence of things and their nature.

In the following chapters, Dal muklakh, I will talk about the reasons for the control of tongues and why we had so many awliya, clairvoyants.

An excerpt from the forthcoming book "Da Nohchi's Code"

Akhmadov Musa Magomedovich,
People's Writer of the Chechen Republic

On behalf of all the members of the Caucasian Writers' Club, created at your suggestion, I cordially congratulate you, People's Writer of the Chechen Republic, recognized by all the peoples of the Caucasus and far beyond its borders as a master of great prose, true poetry, deeply folk dramaturgy, on your 60th birthday! Few of the creative figures manage to do as much in literature as you have created poetic, prose, dramatic works that will long serve people who are interested in the past, present and future of the Chechen people in close connection with the fate of all the peoples of Russia. Your journalism is so in demand today that candidate and doctoral degrees are already being defended in it.

Your merit is also great as a public figure interested in strengthening friendship and fraternal relations between peoples. It is precisely this, as the members of the Caucasian Writers' Club are well aware, that prompted your proposal to create an organization where the writers of the Caucasus could meet to coordinate their activities in order to restore the former fraternal relations between peoples. The Caucasus Writers' Club, of which you are the vice-president, is your brainchild.
The Vainakh magazine headed by you is today one of the best literary periodicals in Russia, on the pages of which writers of different nationalities and different generations meet. And this is the most reliable way to attract writers to joint work on the mutual enrichment of the cultures of all peoples and is today the most necessary component of the work on the spiritual rapprochement of the peoples of the Caucasus and all of Russia.
Health and creative success to you, dear Musa!

On behalf of the members of the Club - its president
Salih Gurtuev, Balkar poet
27. 01. 2016

People's Writer of the Chechen Republic,
Vice-President of the Caucasian Writers' Club,
to the editor-in-chief of the literary and artistic magazine "Vainakh" Akhmadov M.M.

Dear Musa Magomedovich!

On behalf of the members of the Kalmyk regional branch of the Interregional Public Organization "Caucasian Writers' Club", I heartily congratulate you on your significant anniversary - your 60th birthday!
You are one of the outstanding writers of contemporary Russian multinational literature. With your inspirational creativity, you have created a bright, unique image of your beloved homeland - a country of majestic mountains and courageous, proud, freedom-loving people.
Goodness, Truth and Beauty are the basis of your multifaceted talent. You have a special talent, a quivering, sincere, confident talent. Therefore, your work is the property and joy not only of the Chechen, but of all the peoples of reading Russia.

You are ours, you are the brother and friend of the Kalmyks
In the days of troubles and at the time of bright days.
And become a great joy
Our common holiday is our anniversary!
I want to wish you good luck
So that you with a smile - not otherwise! -
Met every new day.
May life's bad weather bring you
Always bypass
And there will be boundless happiness
And endless years.
May everyone around you now
They will warm you with love and attention,
May spring come to you in January
And cherished desires will come true!

Burn with your heart, create with love! Many hugs.

Your Kalmyk friend, People's Poet of Kalmykia, Chairman of the Kalmyk regional branch of the IPO "Caucasian Writers' Club", Chairman of the Union of Writers of the Republic of Kalmykia
Erdni Eldyshev,
January 28, 2016

Dear Musa Magomedovich!

On behalf of the Azerbaijani intelligentsia, I congratulate you on your anniversary.
Creative success to you, great victories and health to continue serving for the benefit of our common home - the Caucasus.

Congratulations -
Gafar Huseynov

Dear Musa Magomedovich!

Let me join in the congratulations on the occasion of your anniversary! May creativity please your soul, your health remain strong, your friends stand as a strong wall around, take care of your loved ones and loved ones.

With warmth -
Irina Kovalenko,
member of the Club "Writers of the Caucasus", president of the club of the creative intelligentsia of the Kuban "Renaissance", Honored Doctor of Russia,
Krasnodar city

Dear Musa Magomedovich!

On behalf of the Dagestan branch of the Caucasian Writers' Club and the Union of Russian Writers, we sincerely congratulate you on your birthday, on your anniversary! Your multifaceted literary, scientific and pedagogical activity has earned you a well-deserved fame and popular recognition, and your contribution to the development of the spiritual culture of the people has determined your worthy place in the cohort of the glorious sons of your Fatherland, in the memory of future generations. We wish you good health, longevity, inexhaustible vigor, happiness, fullness of life and, of course, inspiration!

Sincerely, Miyasat Muslimova,
Chairman of the Dagestan branch of the Caucasian Writers' Club
and the Union of Russian Writers

Multifaceted talent

No matter how much I read the works written by him, no matter how much I listen to him, no matter how much I talk to him and think about him, I still cannot understand one thing: what is more in his talent and work: poetry, prose, dramaturgy, journalism, pedagogy or philosophy? The versatility of his talent, the variety of genres of creativity and fruitfulness are simply amazing: when does he manage to do all this, and even killing time editing a magazine, preparing television programs? And even more surprising is that all these genres succeed him equally well.
The themes of his works are also diverse: the history of the Motherland, nature, love, the problems of the devastation and destruction of the traditional way of life of Chechen villages, the extinction of hearths, environmental issues and the desolation of fatherland, the perversion of the principles of morality and the loss of the roots and customs of the people - everything that worries the author and does not transfer. And, most importantly, pain and anxiety for the current state and for the future of the Chechen language...
From the vision of all this “at the singer of the village, the poet of the earth”, as the creators of this direction are called in literature, such desperate lines are born in the poem “I wander, walk in the clearing ...” (translation - mine):

Leaving fashionable shoes, you are early
From city paths barefoot
Come quietly to the forest clearing
And, soaring into the sky, pour rain.
At least once enter this courtyard,
Hear the voice of the stone in reality,
Light a fire in the old hearth, you
Roast the corn, lay down in the grass.

The whole meaning of M. Akhmadov's work lies in the lines from the poem "To Chechnya" (translation - mine):

When your finger hurts
All my heart hurts...
What happiness, you know? -
People, you always serve ...

Musa Akhmadov was born in exile, far from his native land, in the village. Kyzyl Oktyabr (Red October) of the Bystrovskiy district of the Frunze region of the Kirghiz SSR on January 28, 1956. He went to school already in his father's village of Nizhnie Varanda after returning to his father's homeland, and graduated from it in the village. Shatoy in 1974. He immediately entered the philological faculty of the Chechen-Ingush State University, from which he graduated in 1979.
After university, he taught at a school in his native village, but was soon invited to work in the editorial office of the Shatoi regional newspaper Leninets. From 1979 to 1999, before the outbreak of hostilities of the second counter-terrorist operation in Chechnya, Musa Akhmadov worked in various fields of education, culture, and the press: editor of fiction at a republican book publishing house, editor-in-chief of the republican children's magazine StelaIad (Rainbow), chief editor of the magazine "Orga", head of the literary part of the Chechen State Drama Theatre, head of the department of the Educational and Methodological Center of the Ministry of Culture of the Chechen Republic, teacher of the Department of Chechen literature and folklore of the Chechen State University, journalist of the television and radio company "Channel 5", where he prepared programs on the topics of spiritual and moral education "Roots ”, “Silence”, etc.
At the end of 1999, Musa Akhmadov, like thousands of residents, became a refugee, together with everyone he completely drank this bitter cup. But even then he did not sit idle: since 2000 he worked as a psychologist in the French humanitarian organization Doctors Without Borders. With the help of the International Committee of the Red Cross, he organizes and directs the Chechen Center for Culture and Education in the city of Nazran. This cultural center of Chechnya did a great job of rehabilitating refugee children, organizing their leisure time, education, and moral, spiritual, and aesthetic education.
In 2003, M. Akhmadov returned to the republic and since 2004 has been the editor-in-chief of the republican literary and artistic magazine Vainakh.
Musa Akhmadov began to write in his school years. He immediately began to participate in the republican contests of young writers named after Said Baduev, which in the seventies of the twentieth century were held annually in Chechnya on the initiative of the head of the department of the Chechen-Ingush regional committee of the Komsomol M. Daduev and the editorial staff of the art programs of the Grozny television studio, which I led. At one of the competitions, M. Akhmadov also became a winner with his poem "Sai" ("Deer"), the jury liked the idea and the problem raised in it. I don't remember what place he took, I think it was third, but the main thing is not this, but the incentive, encouragement and call for more active work in literature.
The young author was not slow to take advantage of this immediately. Since that time, M. Akhmadov's poems and stories began to be regularly published in the Shatoi regional newspaper "Leninets", the republican "Lenin's Way", the almanac "Orga" and in other publications of Chechen-Ingushetia. And one more thing stimulated his creativity and raised his writing skills: he had a wise mentor, an amazingly talented poet, prose writer and journalist, a man who was worried about the fate of Chechen literature - his countryman Shima Okuev.
The work of Musa Akhmadov especially matured and strengthened in his student years, in the school of excellence - the association of young writers "Prometheus", one of the organizers of which he was for many years - until its dispersal "for nationalism, anti-Soviet propaganda and a thirst for the exaltation of everything Chechen" - led them. By the way, one of the points of accusation was the works of M. Akhmadov, the ideas of which differed sharply from the official Soviet ideology and propaganda.
“To the credit of the writer,” writes the literary critic E. Minkailov, “he never focused on communist ideals, although he was formed precisely during the time of their undivided domination. Over the years, he turned to eternal values, creating images of heroes who follow them, calling for goodness, moral self-improvement.
For the first time in print, Musa Akhmadov's poems and stories appeared in the collective collections of poetry and prose by members of the literary association "Prometheus": "Alluring Horizons" and "Spring Waters". The very first author's book that saw the light was called "Night in an Empty House", which included stories from different years and a short story "Old Man Ochcha" (1983).
After that, for more than thirty years of literary and journalistic creativity, Musa Akhmadov wrote and published more than forty stories, the novels “And don’t destroy the anthill”, “Man needs a horizon”, “Raising mountains on Earth”, the novels “Trees at dusk”, “On dawn, when the stars go out”, “The river went into the night”, many poems, poems: “Deer”, “Love”, “Terrible”, “Circle of Zikr” and others. Almost all of them were included in books in the Chechen language: "A Night in an Empty House" (1983), "At Dawn, When the Stars Dim" (1986), "Trees at Dusk" (1989), "One Hundred Thousand Good Deeds" (stories, plays and poems for children; 2002), "Learning letters" (ABC in verse; 2006) and "Collected Works" in 5 volumes, published in 2005-2015.
Many of Musa Akhmadov's works have been translated into Russian and published in Moscow and Grozny in the collections Don't Destroy the Anthill (1990), Night in an Empty House (1991), At Dawn, When the Stars Dim (1993). His works in verse and prose were published, in addition, in the all-Russian magazines Friendship of Peoples, Bonfire, Literary Study, Literary Newspaper (Moscow), Don magazine (Rostov-on-Don) and others. leading publications in the country. In recent years, a two-volume collection of stories, short stories and novels by M. Akhmadov “Wooden Dolls” (volume 1), “And the river flowed into the night” (volume 2) has been published in Russian.
On the engines of Musa Akhmadov's creativity, Yu.B. Verolsky wrote in 1993 in a review of the collection At Dawn, When the Stars Dim, that “this is everything that helped the master create his work, everything that lives in his life is in the life of the work. There is a lot of this. This is the life of mankind, which gave rise to problems that excited the author, this is the fate of his people, this is the history of his family, this is his biography. These are people - good and evil, as life has made them, people whom he heard about, read, thought about and whom he met in life. This is his childhood, youth and maturity, his joy and sorrow, his victories and defeats, his love and hatred. These are its mountains, rivers and forests, sunrises and sunsets. These are the songs that he loved. This is his teaching and work. These are his dreams. This is what we call life experience. How much is there in total!” (Grozny, 1993, p. 327).
And further: “The life of the characters (the works of M. Akhmadov. - A.K.) is organically inscribed in the life of nature, in the symbolism of the periods of the day and year, in the elements of the life of mountains and forests, in the world of folk art” (Ibid., p. 330 ).
And finally: “Night, morning, sun – correlated with human life. How often these correlations splash, shimmer in the oral folk art of the Chechens. Prose (for example, the novel "At Dawn When the Stars Dim") makes it possible to clearly perceive the relationship of these correlations, but this is not a mechanical transfer of them into a novel, but an original creative remelting. And even when folklore treasures are wholly included in the text of a novel (and this happens quite often, let us recall the wonderful legend about two latecomers or the song "The Left in the Cave", numerous fragments from girls' songs, etc.), they are organically woven into the artistic structure, enter into complex relationship with the plot and images of the works” (Ibid., p. 331).
I remember the first play written by M. Akhmadov - "Earthquake" - about the events and rampant bureaucracy after the 1988 earthquake in Chechnya. The author brought it to television, and back in 1989 the Grozny studio staged a television play based on it. Later, directed by Kh. Guzuev, it was staged on the stage of the Chechen-Ingush State Drama Theater named after the Hero of the Soviet Union Kh. Nuradilov. I remember the premiere of the play based on it, where I was with my whole family.
After her, Musa Akhmadov wrote more than twenty multi-act and one-act plays for adults and children: “Gone behind the shroud”, “Adventures of a flea”, “Wolf tail”, “New adventures of Chirdig”, “Animals, people and other living creatures do not want war ”, “Building a tower”, “Conversation with mother”, “House on the sand”, “Sheikh Mansour” and others. Almost all of them were staged on the stages of the Chechen and Ingush state drama and puppet theaters, in the tent camps of Chechen refugees in Ingushetia, Kabardino-Balkaria ... And the play "Wolf's Tail" was translated into French and staged in Paris on the stage of the theater "House of Eastern European play" in 2006.
M. Akhmadov also makes a great contribution to literary criticism, pedagogical and educational work: he wrote dozens of literary critical articles, textbooks “Chechen Traditional Culture and Ethics” (for senior classes), “You came into this world. On Chechen Traditions (for fourth grade students), teaching aids on ethics and the Chechen language for schools and universities.
Such is he, the multifaceted talent of Musa Akhmadov, who is appreciated: he is the People's Writer of the Chechen Republic, Honored Worker of Culture of the Chechen Republic, laureate of the Silver Owl Prize of the Regional Public Organization "Intellectual Center of the Chechen Republic"; member of the Writers' Union of Russia and Chechnya since 1987; member of the Union of Journalists of Russia and Chechnya.
These are the facets of Musa Akhmadov's great talent. Let us wish him that his work flourishes even brighter year after year.

Adiz Kusaev, writer, poet, Honored Journalist of the Chechen Republic

Creator-innovator

Akhmadov Musa entered Chechen literature as an innovator of prose. This is evidenced by his stories such as "Time", "The Exploits of Denisolta", "The Hazels are Noisy" and others. Original, in terms of composition and content, were also the stories "Old Man Ochcha", "Earthquake", "Raising Mountains on Earth". But the pinnacle of Musa Akhmadov's work, so to speak, his literary triumph, was the novel Trees at Twilight. Both our and Russian critics wrote about this novel with admiration. Such a novel - complex in structure, compositionally diverse, was not at that time not only in Chechen literature, but also in the literature of the North Caucasus. Unless only Georgian and, in general, Russian art literature could “boast” of a work of this kind.
Also, Akhmadov is one of the few, if not the only, playwright whose plays are successfully staged on the stage of the entire North Caucasus and even Europe. In particular, the drama "Wolves" in 2002 was presented in French at the theater "House of the Eastern European Play" in Paris.
Akhmadov realized himself as a brilliant poet, culturologist, publicist, author and host of many popular television and radio programs.
I sincerely congratulate my friend and wonderful writer on his anniversary! Create, my friend, so that I always strive to catch up with you, not lagging behind!

Musa Beksultanov, People's Writer of the Chechen Republic

Symphony of Goodness

I confess that I am grateful to fate for having met such a person on my professional path and getting the opportunity to learn humanity from him.
Musa Akhmadov is truly a unique symphonic personality. Akhmadov showed his gift, received from the Almighty and nourished by his native land, its nature and a special sense of the world of his people, in a wide variety of genres of literature: prose, poetry, dramaturgy. He is an excellent teacher, nurturing talented youth, and a cultural scientist, ethnologist, ethnopsychologist. The author of popular television projects and editor of the literary and artistic magazine "Vainakh", thanks to his work and authority, received recognition in the literary circles of the Caucasus and Russia. The success of the undertakings of this man-"orchestra" is explained simply: faith in the Almighty, who endowed him with these abilities, diligence and great humanity, which includes, not in words, but in deeds, such a concept as nokhchalla - Chechenness. And this implies that if you are a real nokhcho, and not a quasi-patriot, then the main thing for you is nobility, self-esteem and respect for this dignity in any other person - whether small, modest or great, an adult or a child, a great hakim or an inconspicuous worker , friend or foe. Even Akhmadov's trademark irony is gentle and positive. Outwardly, a very balanced, calm, seemingly even phlegmatic person, he is insanely active in creativity and the humanitarian direction of his activity. Possessing a keen vision and understanding of the world and man, he managed to very subtly immerse himself in the mysteries of time and being, to create in his prose an amazing, metaphorical model of reality, with its eternal struggle between good and evil. He is wise, and this wisdom has not been acquired over the years, it is some kind of original, deep, essential for his nature. In his early twenties, he wrote his first novel, At Dawn When the Stars Dim, which immediately attracted the attention of critics, literary critics, and readers. It became clear that a great writer had come to Chechen literature.
At the heart of the second novel "Trees at Twilight" (1986), written at the age of 32, is the conflict of a person with the surrounding reality, a deep conflict - with a society that tramples on moral values ​​and has forgotten about the true meaning of the individual, based on false Soviet ideals, where falsehood and hypocrisy rule, with a society that does not forgive dissent and unwillingness to be part of the gray faceless mass of Ivans who do not remember kinship. Roman Akhmadova affirms the priority of eternal human feelings over any social hierarchy. Let kindness, truth, love, closeness to nature and folk traditions, talent be outcasts in this system, the writer firmly believes that only by relying on the living embodiment of these humanistic concepts, humanity can create a truly just system in which no one will have a monopoly on truth.
According to a number of researchers of literary creativity (Yu. Verolsky, L. Egorova, E. Minkailov), the second novel was not only a milestone in the work of the writer himself, but was also an innovative work in the Chechen literature of that period, distinguished by the boldness of the questions posed, originality and complexity artistic realization of the author's intention. Akhmadov managed to expand the genre boundaries of the Chechen novel, to achieve an organic combination of social, satirical and philosophical principles. "Trees at dusk" is a fusion of grotesque and poetry, high and low, funny and tragic. A happy freedom of creative imagination and at the same time the severity of the author's intention reign in the novel.
The creation of the writer's third novel "And the River Flowed into the Night" separated from "Trees at Dusk" by almost 15 years: it was published in late 2002 - early 2003. in the Orga magazine, and in 2004, in the Russian translation by Abu Ismailov, it appeared on the pages of the Vainakh magazine. And it was recognized by critics as "one of the largest works of our literature of the last decade."
The writer continues to dissect eternal problems (life and death, guilt and responsibility, the meaning of existence ...), his philosophical view in the search for moral and ethical justifications for the tragedy of the people at the turn of the 20th-21st centuries. penetrates into the deep mysteries of being, establishing cause-and-effect relationships and relationships.
Any work of Musa Akhmadov is a colorful piece of the world. Very tightly fitted to each other, they form the author's micromodel of reality. Alter-globalist Akhmadov likes to clarify in his interviews - "the Chechen world outlook." But in the presence of bright, original ethnic colors, cosmism, based on the idea of ​​unity and interdependence of all things, remains the pillar of this model. That is why the spiritual and moral system of Chechen national values, artistically interpreted by the writer, in a multicultural space is open, understandable and close not only to the person who is genetically involved in it.
According to the deep conviction of the writer, following the divine commandments gives earthly civilization that foothold that allows it to maintain balance, stability and not turn into cosmic ashes. This can be a direct, literal appeal to the Almighty (prayers and the reading of the Koran, which did not stop for a minute, save the inhabitants remaining in the village from execution in the story “Go without going astray from this path”) and indirect service by deeds that multiply the centers of light in the “shrouded triple the darkness of the universe” (Denis, the hero of the story “Wooden Dolls”, carved figures, devoting his entire short life to art. These sculptures were his prayers to God, he put his kind heart, his mercy to people, relatives and strangers into them).
The cornerstone of Akhmadov's philosophical system is the harmony of everything that exists, the interconnection, interdependence of all elements of the universe since the creation of the world, man is only part of the universal plan, his separation from nature, national roots, the land that nourished him, the past, forgetfulness of the seven forefathers will upset the world balance, inevitably will lead to spiritual, social and natural cataclysms. Therefore, it is so important to return a person to the roots, not to let the grains of alienation grow in his soul. The embodiment of this formula is subject to all the artistic tools at the disposal of the author.
The text of Musa Akhmadov's prose is perceived as a veiled message. The titles of his novels and stories serve as a code - they are so poetic that they themselves represent a bewitching finished mini-sketch. By arranging them in a certain sequence, we will get a capacious, but bright picture, parting words of the writer to his reader, we will catch the essence of his worldview: earth... where a wild pear tree grows by a bright river... Circling in these waves... driven by time... and don't destroy the anthill... so that the candle is not blown out by the wind... When the night catches you in an empty house... or you meet winter on a cold morning... remember that there is still a small house in a flowering garden ... And besides the forest and darkness - the starry sky.

Lidia Dovletkireeva, Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor of the Chechen State University, Deputy Editor of the Vainakh magazine

Spiritual towers of Musa Akhmadov

If I say that Chechen culture is associated with the name of Musa Akhmadov, this will not be a loud statement. It is enough to be a folk writer, the author of five volumes of prose, poetry, drama, embodying national ideals in his work, but Musa is not limited to writing alone. His word is valid. The Chechen word, which he serves throughout his life, lives, sounds from the stage of the theater, from the pop stage, from television and radio programs, from the pages of textbooks. Solemn republican events are held according to his scenarios. His word contains the morality of the people, its high ideals, spiritual values.
In connection with the activities of Musa Akhmadov, the words of the Kazakh writer Olzhas Suleimenov are recalled, who, in response to the question: “You are a famous writer, do social work interfere with your work?” - answered: "If there is no opera singer in the Kazakh opera house, I will go to perform the opera." Similarly, Musa is involved in all spheres of our culture. All his undertakings, projects are successful and have a long life.
From a young age, Musa Akhmadov knew how to attract people to him. These were people who were not indifferent to their language, their national roots. This is how the literary association "Prometheus" was created, from which came the greatest contemporary Chechen writers. This association was his brainchild. Together with like-minded people, he popularized the national culture at a time when the authorities did not welcome the pull of young people to their roots. Therefore, after a short existence, the literary association was closed, calling the patriots "nationalists." The activities of the literary association "Prometheus" lead to the flourishing of Chechen literature. And even after 40 years, the Prometheans hold on to the Olympus of the glory of Chechen literature.
Musa Akhmadov does not cease to be a “nationalist” even now, because he is sure that only through the prism of the national worldview can one come to an understanding of universal values. Therefore, his works are translated into foreign languages, he published a hotel book in German in Switzerland.
“The folk path to him does not dry out either,” people go to him for advice, share their creative plans. With all his workload, he finds time to listen to everyone, to help. He helps everyone. He helps with his practical advice, prompts, directs, and sometimes, he simply bestows his own, inherent only to him, polysemantic irony, which without words makes the interlocutor understand the futility of his intentions.
It should be especially noted that Musa Akhmadov is a nurturer of national talents. He greatly helps young people who write in their native language, inspires beginners, instilling in them a love for the Chechen word, for Chechen culture. Knowing that the future of the people lies in the spiritual and moral education of the younger generation, he makes every effort in the upbringing, spiritual education of youth.
Musa Akhmadov “raises mountains on the earth” with his creativity, he is the builder of the spiritual towers of our people. And on behalf of the entire Chechen people, and he is a truly people's writer, not only by title, but by the recognition of the people, I want to congratulate Musa on his anniversary, wish him health, strength, and he will always have creative success as long as he works for the good of the people!

Zarina Aliyeva, Deputy Editor
literary and artistic
magazine "Orga"

A word about a friend

I have known Musa Akhmadov since my student years. We studied in parallel groups on the same course of the philological faculty of the Chechen-Ingush State University named after L.N. Tolstoy. These were the 70s of the last century, deaf times of stagnation. Musa already in those years decided on his life goal - literary work, to which he devoted his whole life. From a young age he was fascinated by literature, even in his school years he took part in literary competitions, was published in the regional newspaper, and in his student years - in the almanac "Orga". In those years, the Pkharmat (Prometheus) literary association, which brought together novice authors who later became leading Chechen writers, played an important role in shaping the young writer. Musa Akhmadov was the head of this association. His formation as a writer was greatly influenced by constant communication and personal friendship with famous writers Akhmad Suleymanov and Abuzar Aidamirov.
The writer knows well the life of the Chechen village, the history of his people, their way of life, customs - and this helped him to occupy his niche in literature in a short time. Starting with short stories, he moved on to short stories, and then novels. Undoubtedly, his novels “Raising Mountains on the Earth”, novels “At Dawn, When the Stars Dim”, “Trees at Dusk”, “The River Flowed into the Night” became events in the literary life of the republic. Of particular note is the writer's dramaturgy. Musa Akhmadov worked for some time in the theater, which helped him to understand the essence of stage art, create dramatic works that were staged on the stages of a number of republics of the North Caucasus, as well as abroad. This applies to his works such as "After the Earthquake", "The Tower Built on Ice", "Wolves" and many others.
His interests are wide and varied - prose writer, poet, playwright, scientist. In each of these activities, he achieved undoubted success, which was marked by a high title - People's Writer of the Chechen Republic - in 2005.
On the eve of his 60th birthday, I would like to wish Musa Akhmadov good health, creative success in his work, new wonderful works that the reader is waiting for.

Elbrus Minkailov, People's Writer of the Chechen Republic,
Associate Professor, Ingush State University

Writer of life...

No, you can’t say about him that, like all Chechen boys, he began to dance before he walked, rather, on the contrary: Musa began ... to write before he danced! It seems to me that his adolescence was completely “corrupted” by an extravagant dream: to become a writer before entering adulthood. I know for sure that during these years he was never taken off either from a tree or from a rock, where he had to climb without fail in order to feel new unknown sensations on his own skin. And to the eagle's nest, as in Chechen fairy tales, he did not sneak up to quietly "steal" the feather from his tail...
In fact, everything turned out to be more prosaic. I’m talking about my personal feelings: from his first stories “Telephone”, “Empty Nut”, “People and Nature Transform in Spring”, “In Forest Clearings”, etc., really, one breathed the silver freshness of the morning dews of Varanda meadows, the singing of larks at the zenith day, half-asleep conversations of trees in the night and streams flowing into the night, and, of course, philosophical reflections in an empty house ... In other words, breathed the breath of life!
When Musa took up his first novel, the first disappointments in life were far behind. The hard collision of the "Promethean Ark" with the ideological machine of the "Soviet Deputies" only tempered his character. His novel "Trees in the Night" turned out to be a caustic, peculiar diagnosis of a mossy society, which would later be given an apt name - stagnation ... Further - more. Today, the heroes of Akhmadov's stories and plays have flooded our cities and villages, they, like all of us, are experiencing and suffering in unison with time ...
They will live with us while Musa Akhmadov writes life...

Sharani Dzhambekov,
Candidate of Philology

A Bright Page of North Caucasian Literature

The modern Russian writer Musa Akhmadov is one of those Chechens who truly glorified their people in terms of culture, traditions and customs. He is one of those who always takes upon himself the problems and experiences of the people, who always acutely feels their pain and talentedly transfers these feelings to the pages of his works. In this sense, it is noteworthy that the entire system of genres of national literature turned out to be subject to him. Here the writer discovers an equal presence in all genres in terms of artistic skill: he is a prose writer, a poet, and a playwright.
Moreover, Musa Akhmadov has a huge amount of merits to his people in the field of educational activities. His extensive participation in republican television literary projects (most often he himself acts as the founder of these projects), publishing activities as the editor-in-chief of the Vainakh magazine, journalistic works, the creation of unique books Chechen Traditional Culture and Ethics, The Relationship of Chechen Folk Culture with nature and work”, a textbook for the 4th grade of the secondary school “You came into this world” and much more is an important part of the cultural sphere of modern Chechen society. I believe that this is the most valuable thing that significantly complements the essence of the activity of any national writer, determines his significance in the spiritual component of the life of the people.
The work of Musa Akhmadov is actively in demand in Russian literary criticism, his works are textbooks and are widely represented in school textbooks of native literature, in educational and methodological and teaching aids intended for students and teachers of universities of the republic, the North Caucasus region.
National researchers of literature draw a lot of inspiration from the works of Musa Akhmadov. It actually became the key to the study of the current state of Chechen literature. The works of the writer always sound with a special emotional force, each of his works is, as a rule, a philosophical canvas. The general background of the narrative always includes reflections on the meaning and value of human life, on the loneliness of a person, on the ups and downs of fate.
The heroes of Musa Akhmadov are people with an active life position. And what is interesting: in his works it is impossible to meet a simple primitive appearance of a hero. There is always a certain philosophical message, the author strives to create an individualized experience. The heroes of his works build their attitude to the world from the standpoint of reflections on the meaning of the existence of everything that exists on Earth.
Speaking about the features of the artistic world of Musa Akhmadov's prose, Makka Ismailova, Associate Professor of the Department of Literature and Teaching Methods of the Chechen State Pedagogical University, writes that the problem of the relationship between traditions and modernity in the writer's work is solved through an appeal to the key concepts of Chechen culture. In her opinion, the themes of honor, duty, family ties, memory of ancestors appear in the writer's works as a guiding thread that allows the characters to find a way out of difficult life situations.
As you know, nature occupies a key place in the writer's work. In his understanding, according to Zukhra Yakhyaeva, one of the beginning Chechen literary critics, nature is something harmonious, existing in the balance of good and evil, eternal and momentary, necessary and useless. That is why nature is dialectical, it is both a creative and destructive factor that preserves this eternal balance. Z. Yakhyaeva rightly believes that the theme of nature for Musa Akhmadov is one of the most important factors in reflecting national identity, and it is also closely related to the theme of the Motherland.
The list of statements, judgments about the unique work of the Chechen writer Musa Akhmadov cannot be exhausted. Many articles, monographs are devoted to him, candidate and doctoral dissertations are written, in which various aspects of the manifestations of artistic creativity and the writer's skill are tirelessly analyzed. However, it should be noted that the authors who have been writing and writing about Musa Akhmadov for many years (Verolsky Yu., Egorova L., Inarkayeva S., Ismailova M., Dovletkireeva L.), note one very important feature of his work: it is aimed at comprehension of the deep, basic foundations of the universe and human existence, the essence of human life and its meaning. And this, of course, gives us the right to consider the work of Musa Akhmadov one of the brightest pages not only of modern Chechen, but of the entire North Caucasian literature.

Subran Inarkayeva, Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor

Stubborn Musa

In the autumn of 1975, at the first meeting of the creative union of young writers, I met Musa Akhmadov. Even then, this modest young man stood out for his perseverance and determination. He knew what he wanted to achieve in this life and how to do it.
He was one of the most active members of our creative union, to whom we gave the name of the legendary mythical hero "Phyarmat" ("Prometheus").
Musa remained true to his life credo and achieved great success in his work.
If one can compare modern Chechen literature with a mountain range, then Musa Akhmadov Peak stands out brightly among these snow-white peaks.
For more than forty years of creative activity, he wrote hundreds of poems, dozens of stories, short stories, novels and plays.
Songs based on his poems are heard on the stage, on radio and television. Performances based on Akhmadov's plays are held to a full house. They are taken apart for quotes. The comedies of M. Akhmadov especially attract the viewer.
He did a lot for the preservation and development of the Chechen language and culture. TV viewers not only in Chechnya, but also far beyond its borders, are looking forward to Musa Akhmadov's next broadcast of the Tower of Knowledge, in which teams of young intellectuals from schools, colleges and universities of the republic compete.
Akhmadov achieved great success in prose. His novels have become classics of Chechen literature. Working on the translation into Russian of the novel "The River Flowed into the Night" and the story "Kosari", I experienced true creative pleasure.
Akhmadov is a great worker. With his extraordinary talent and hard work, he achieved great success in literature. He is one of those who raised Chechen literature to a new level. And I am proud to be a contemporary and colleague of this remarkable man.
60 years is youth for a Caucasian. Health and new creative success to you, Musa!

Abu Ismailov, writer, poet,
author of the Dosh dictionary

To whom much is given, much will be required...

60 years is the time of spiritual and creative maturity. Whether this is a lot or a little for a creative person, however, as for any other, is determined not by the number of years lived, but by what he has done for near and far, if he is lucky - and for the people, finally ... I must admit, Musa Akhmadov wrote and printed there is a lot in all kinds of art of the artistic word: in prose, poetry, dramaturgy. One list of his published works could take a lot of unproductive space for the jubilee word. Moreover, the bibliography of everything published by him and about him can be found on the Internet.
The name of Musa Akhmadov is often pronounced among the names of prominent Chechen writers. His writing work has been marked by many awards and titles, including the highest of them - people's writer.
But this is not the main thing. In my opinion, today the main thing for a Chechen writer is that his word should serve as a balm for the wounds of fellow tribesmen who survived after the last two wars of extermination, which claimed thousands of lives of civilians, and did not have time to understand what and before whom they were guilty ... By “balm” in this case, I mean a living Chechen artistic word, which, despite any historical upheavals, continues to delight the hearts of our fellow citizens.
Musa Akhmadov is one of those who understand that it is in this field that he will really be in demand as a national writer, a writer for the people.
Wishing him continued success on this blessed journey!

Kazbek Gaytukaev,
Candidate of Philology

Vainakh №1-2, 2016.

Akhmadov, Musa Magomedovich(1956) - a well-known modern Chechen writer, poet and playwright, member of the Chechen Writers' Union, Honored Worker of Culture of the Chechen Republic, People's Writer of the Chechen Republic (2006), vice-president of the Caucasian Writers' Club, editor-in-chief of the Vainakh literary and art magazine, laureate Silver Owl Award (2006).

Biography

Musa Akhmadov was born in 1956 in Kyrgyzstan. In 1957, his family returned from the places of exile to their homeland to the village of Lakha-Varanda in the Shatoi region. Musa graduated from an eight-year school there, and received a complete secondary education in Shatoi.

In 1979 he graduated from the philological faculty of CHIGU. After graduation, he worked as a teacher in a rural school, editor of a book publishing house, senior editor of the children's magazine "StelaIad" ("Rainbow"), editor-in-chief of the literary and artistic magazine "Orga", head of the literary department of the Chechen theater, head of the department of the educational and methodological center of the Ministry of Culture Chechen Republic, teacher of ChGU. From 2000 to 2002 he worked in the organization "Doctors of the World" (France) as an ethnopsychologist. From 2004 to the present, he has been the editor-in-chief of the literary and artistic magazine Vainakh.

His play "Wolves" was published as a separate book in French in Paris in 2002. In 2005, a performance based on this play was staged at the theater "House of the East European Play".

The writer's works have been translated into Balkar, French, Japanese, and German.

Bibliography

in Chechen

• "Trees at dusk" (1989, novel, novels, short stories);
• One Hundred Thousand Good Deeds (2002, stories, plays and poems for children);
• "Collected works in 5 volumes":
• • Volume I, novels and short stories (2005);
  • Volume II, novels (2006);
  • Volume III, dramaturgy (2009);
  • Volume IV, poetry, articles, essays, interviews (2012);
• "We learn letters" (ABC in verse, 2006);
• "Night in an empty house" (1991).

in Russian

• "Night in an empty house" (1983, stories, novels);
• "At dawn, when the stars go out" (1986, novel, short stories);
• “And do not destroy the anthill” (1990);
• "Wooden Dolls" (2010, stories, novels, plays);
• "And the river flowed into the night" (2010, novels).

Teaching aids

• Textbook for senior classes "Chechen traditional culture and ethics" (2002);
• 4th grade textbook on Chechen traditions "You came into this world" (2006).

Performances based on plays by Musa Akhmadov

Chechen State Theatre:

• "After the earthquake" (1989);
• "Gone for the shroud" (1993).

Chechen puppet theater:

• "Adventures of a Flea" (1988)

Ingush State Theatre:

• comedy Wolf's Tail (2000)

Ingush puppet theater:

• "New Adventures of Chirdig" (2001)

Chechen youth theater "Serlo":

• "Tower built on ice";
• "Denisolt";
• "Gone behind the shroud";
• "Time of heroes";
• "New Year's Dreams" (musical).

Way home

Tragicomedy

Characters:

CURA
HYDARBECK
CHINESE
CHINESE ASSISTANT
HEDA, translator
FRENCH CIVIL SERVANT
FRENCH CIVIL SERVANT
AVALU, an immigrant
THIEF
Mireille, an elderly French woman
ZHANETA, Chechen girl
MAYRBEK, a Chechen living in Norway
YURI BORISOVICH, artist, former resident of the city of Grozny
TOURIST
ARTIST FROM MONTHARTRE
DARDAN, a refugee from the Middle East
SHIKHMIRZA, street actor
SALES WOMAN IN SUPERMARKET
USMAN, security guard at the supermarket
STREET SELLING IN SOUVENIRS
CORRESPONDENT
OPERATOR
FIRST POLICE OFFICER
SECOND POLICE OFFICER
1st IMMIGRANT
2nd IMMIGRANT
3rd IMMIGRANT
ACCORDIONIST FRANCOIS
PARTICIPANTS OF THE RALLY
LOM-ALI, Chechen singer

THE VOICE OF THE DISPATCHER. Le vol Moscou-Paris. L'avion a atterrià l'Aéroport international Orly.
CURA. Paris! .. Finally I'm here. It's like a saying: if you aim for a long time, then the gun will someday hit the intended target. So my gun hit right on target ... I'm in Paris! First of all, call Khaydarbek…… Hello, Khaydarbek, salam alaikum… Yes, I got there, although not without difficulty… What should I do now?.. Surrender to the authorities?… What are you talking about? Am I in a war to give up? Where do you say you go? To the Louvre? And where he? Okay, we'll meet there... Taxi! Taxi!

Picture two

CURA. Paris! Paris! Paris! As one Russian said ... or maybe it wasn’t Russian ... “To see Paris and die” ... well, I will always have time to die, but I would like to eat right now, I have been starving for three hours ... (Takes out a wallet from his pocket, looks in into it) The wallet is full! (He turns to the nearest cafe. There he is served by a Chinese). Monsieur Chinese, give me that bun...
CHINESE. (In French). Je ne vous comprends pas…
CURA. Give me a croissant...
CHINESE. Ah, le croissant ... un croissant - un euro ...
CURA. What is one euro? Why are you asking so little? I will give you two euros: one for a bun and the other a donation for my happy arrival (takes a bun and eats). And give me tea. Praise be to God, thank you Lord! Now it has become good, it has cleared up in the eyes ... The fog has settled around their highest tower. We must climb this tower and look around from a height. What is this famous Paris like?

CURA sketches a portrait of a Chinese man.

CURA. Monsieur is Chinese... Or maybe you are Korean... or Japanese... or Kazakh? Yes, it doesn't matter, at least the Kirghiz! By the way, my father was born in Kyrgyzstan!
CHINESE. Chin, chin!
CURA. Chin, rank... I understand, I understand... Jackie Chan... (Shows karate moves).
CHINESE. Oui, oui - Djekky Chan! (Chinese laughs).
CURA. Here, Monsieur Chinese, I present this portrait to you!
CHINESE. ABOUT! Merci.

Kura enters the cafe. He is waiting for Khaidarbek. Khaidarbek appears.

HYDARBECK. Bonjour, Curie!
CURA. Do you mean welcome? Greetings!
HYDARBECK. You must learn to speak French. The first step is to learn the local language.
CURA. First of all, enjoy Paris! And then you can learn the language. Haydarbek, tell me, what are the most famous sights I need to see?
HYDARBECK. Come on, let's talk about this over tea. This building is the Louvre. At one time there was a royal residence here. Now it is a museum. The world-famous Gioconda and Mona Lisa hang there.
CURA. Are you talking about a Da Vinci painting? It's not two, but one picture.
HYDARBECK. Seriously? Wow news... I didn't know...
CURA. I want to see all the paintings. After all, I am an artist myself.
HYDARBECK. But that bridge is named after the Russian Tsar. The Seine flows underneath. Do you remember how we made a riddle in childhood: “Where the hay does not burn?” So this grass, which does not burn, turns out to be leaking here!
CURA. I'll take a boat ride over it.
HYDARBECK. And over there in the distance, so ugly, tall - this is the Eiffel Tower ...
CURA. I recognized her immediately. (He sees a “monument” painted with gold paint). Khaidarbek, is it standing over there - is this a real monument?
HYDARBECK. No... It's a beggar. You see, the hat is in front of him, passers-by throw money at him.
CURA. He must be a very strong guy, since he stands motionless all day in the sun ... I’ll throw him a couple of euros too. (Throws money into a hat.)
HYDARBECK. What they will not come up with, if only to cut down money in an easy way.

At this time, a street seller of souvenirs approaches them, in her hands she holds key rings, souvenir Eiffel Towers, and penknives.

CURA. What are they for?
Merchant. un euro.
CURA. Give me these, ten more ... and I'll buy a knife ...
HYDARBECK. Why do you need a knife?
CURA. Where did you see a Chechen without a weapon? (laughs). Not really! Sharpen pencils, cut the canvas - for this it is just right. And these things, when I become a world-famous artist and go home, I will give them to my relatives. Good gift! So I give you one in memory of our meeting today.
HYDARBECK. This is, of course, an expensive gift. Just guessed what I dreamed of. (Laughs). You, be careful with money, do not scatter, they quickly fly away here. Okay, today admire Paris, and tomorrow you will go to the migration service. Tell them how the authorities oppressed you, and you were forced to leave here, what a difficult situation you had. The more horror stories you tell them, the better for you...
CURA. Wait, wait... Can't I just tell it like it is? No one pursued me, I came of my own free will, so that my work would be recognized here... Wouldn't this reason suit them?
HYDARBECK. No! By the way, what did you do with your passport?
CURA. Nothing. Here he is. (shows).
HYDARBECK. I know what to do with it.
(tearing the passport and throwing the scraps in the trash can)
CURA. What have you done?
HYDARBECK. Now there is no turning back! Whether you like it or not, you have to be French. Well, I went.
CURA. Wait!
HYDARBECK. I have no time. Tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, somehow ... Hey, madam! Here, take back your tower and drive two euros.
Merchant. Vous etes fou!
CURA. Monsieur CHINESE! I'll go. Oh revoir, I'll come to you again... To have tea with you... You have very tasty tea... And the croissant was wonderful.

Third painting

French immigration service. There is an interview.

HEDA. Good day to you and welcome!
CURA. Thank you. Are you a Chechen?!
HEDA. Yes, I am a translator here. So, now listen carefully to their questions, and answer only after thinking carefully. I will translate your conversation.
CIVIL SERVANT. Comment vous appelez-vous? Votre nom et prenoms?
HEDA. Name and surname?
CURA. Ganaev Kyuri Gairbekovich.
CIVIL SERVANT. Votre nom est similaire aux français et le son “r” vous prononcez comme les français…
HEDA. They say Curie's name is French. And burry "r" as in their language.
CURA. Well, yes ... Chechen words - g1ala, g1airakh, g1ovg1a, g1ag1 ...
HEDA. That's enough... You've completely shriveled up.
CIVIL SERVANT. Votre nationalite?
HEDA. Your Nationality?…
CURA. What do you care about my nationality? It is not customary for us to divide people by nationality. I am Chechen...
CIVIL SERVANT. Qu'est-ce que se passe?
HEDA. What are you? They are here to ask questions, it is your job to answer. KYURA, if you resist, they won't give you a residence permit. Tell me what kind are you?
CURA. I am from the G1airaho clan... In ancient Nashkhoi, they found an old bowl on which the names of all Chechen teips are carved. So our genus is listed first...
HEDA. Il est d'un ancien clan tchétchene.
CIVIL SERVANT. ABOUT! C'est tres interesting! Kheda, regarde, s'il y a le nom de ce clan dans la liste?
HEDA. (looks at the list). Ahh, there is no such kind in this list… Non? Il n'y a pas.
CURA. How not?! We have a small family, maybe you didn’t notice it on the list the first time, take a closer look ...
HEDA. I understood… There is such a kind…Oui –oui…
CIVIL SERVANT. Bien…
CURA. Wait a minute... Am I here to answer questions about my kind in this no-understand-where distance?
HEDA. Wow! Are you the world's cradle of culture - Paris - "do not understand-where" you call ...? They check if you are really a Chechen. You know how many people came here, pretending to be Chechens... Not only our neighbors, the Ingush and Dagestanis, but even the Yakuts from the Far North.
CURA. Can't you see from my face that I'm not a Yakut?
HEDA. We see, we see, show patience... If you get so nervous, they will send you to a mental hospital...
CURA. Do they do that too?
HEDA. Easily…
CIVIL SERVANT. La guerre est terminee, les villes et les villages sont restaures. Pourquoi vous ne restez pas à la maison?
HEDA. In your homeland, the war has ended, cities and villages have been restored, why didn’t you stay at home?
CURA. Paris is the capital of world culture, so I want to live here. I came with the hope that France would be able to appreciate my work.
HEDA. Paris est la capitale de la culture mondiale, c'est pourquoi je veux vivre ici. J'espere que la France appréciera mon oeuvre.
CIVIL SERVANT. Êtes-vous le travailleur de la culture?
HEDA. Do you work in the field of culture?
CURA. Yes.
CIVIL SERVANT. Dans quel domaine?
HEDA. In what area is a dancer, singer, poet, artist?
CURA. Here, here... The last one.
HEDA. Il est le paintre.
CIVIL SERVANT. Vous êtes l'artiste! Quel style préférez-vous – l’impressionnisme, le realism…
HEDA. What style do you write in? Realism, surrealism, impressionism, abstractionism, cubism?
CURA. None of these styles are close to me ... I created my own style - triangulation! All my paintings are based on a triangle... I don't recognize circles and squares. Our mountains are triangular in shape. Our towers too... And in Paris, many buildings look like a triangle, for example, your famous Eiffel Tower, or the pyramid in front of the Louvre. My heart tells me that my triangular creativity will be understood here. Take a look at them! Here are the Chechen mountains! And these are our towers! And these are the lofty thoughts of the Chechens! Has anyone painted such pictures? Nobody except me!
HEDA. Personne comprend pas ses tableaux, sa peinture.
CIVIL SERVANT. Ce n'est pas une raison pour s'exiler...
HEDA. This is not a reason to run away from home ...
CIVIL SERVANT. Une autre chose si vous avez été en danger…
HEDA. If you were tortured, your house was destroyed, taken away at night, thrown into prison, not allowed to work - these are convincing reasons to leave your homeland. Are your relatives alive?
CURA. Praise be to God, alive.
CIVIL SERVANT. Voyez-vous, Curie, dans votre famille il n'y a pas de tués, arrêtés, chez vous tout est normal. Vous devez rentrer à la maison…
HEDA. Although it will upset you, she says, but your family has neither been killed nor arrested, you are doing well, and you should return home.
CURA. Wrong! .. I can’t live there ... From my youth I had a dream - to live in Paris, so that the whole world could see my paintings from here! ..
HEDA. Il veut vivre a Paris et créer ses toiles ici.
CIVIL SERVANT. Qu'allons-nous faire?
CIVIL SERVANT. Eh bien, nous avons le temps de refléchir. Au bout de deux mois, nous donnerons la reponse. Kheda, aidez-lui. Au revoir!
CURA. What they're saying?
HEDA. They told you to return in exactly two months, then you will receive an answer. And they messed up.
CURA. Goodbye. (leaves)
HEDA. Wait for me outside, I'll go out now ...

Kura stops on the sidelines. Suitable Chechen.

CURA. It's not a problem to wait two months ...
AVALU. Assalamu alaikum!
CURA. Wa alaikum salam!
AVALU. What did you get?
CURA. So far, nothing ... They said to return in two months ...
AVALU. I've been back three times already...
CURA. Thrice?
AVALU. Yes, three times. Well, now I have come up with new fairy tales for them…
CURA. God help.
AVALU. Thank you. (Heda enters.) Heda, is that you? Good afternoon. Kheda, how is our business?
HEDA. Good afternoon, Avalu, have you arrived?! Your case is being decided.
AVALU. I won’t leave you so easily until I get a positive!
HEDA. Wait for me. I'll be back soon. (Avalu exits). Cura…
CURA. What, Heda?
HEDA. Did you come here with the desire to stay alive?
CURA. Yes.
HEDA. If so, then you need to scold your authorities!
CURA. I won't scold anyone behind my back. I'm used to saying what I think...
HEDA. Yes, you wait! Yes, in our republic there is not a single person who did not suffer because of the war ... And how did she get past you?
CURA. And I didn't get past.
HEDA. Well then, tell me about it...
CURA. Yes, that was fifteen years ago, why talk about it?
HEDA. Tell! And add some of your own...
CURA. I won't add anything of my own. I'm not going to lie.
HEDA. You drop these Chechen show-offs and do what they say.
CURA. These are not show-offs! I'd rather die than lie.
HEDA. In this case, because you paint triangles, no one is going to give you a positive ...
CURA. What am I supposed to do?
HEDA. You'll be back in two months with a tear-jerking story.

Fourth picture

Cura on a Parisian street. While talking on the phone, Khaidarbek enters.

HYDARBECK. Wa alaikum salaam, Bakar. Well, come on, but I'm in a hurry, Bakar, so tell me quickly. Cheremsha? Yes, it will deteriorate until it is taken from home. Do you know better what to do? Pickle it, roll it up in jars, then the local Chechens will only buy it up like that. Yes, yes, shelled walnuts. The bigger, the better. Here the French snatch them up so much that the Chechens don't even get them. Send me more dried meat, white cornmeal... It will do just fine. Flour from wild pears - do not, the local people do not know what it is. Do not send sausages in the gut, leave them at home, they are very scary. Well, that's all for now! Bonjug1, Curie!
CURA. Zhur-zhur.
HYDARBECK. How are you, Parisian?
CURA. Will do! I went to the immigration office. They said to come back in two months. And I've run out of money.
HYDARBECK. Did they leak something quickly?
CURA. Somehow it ended ... I paid for the apartment ... I went to Hemingway's favorite restaurant "Ritz" twice ... I visited the Moulin Rouge, popular with artists ...
HYDARBECK. Well, you are a wolf! Those are the two coolest places! I've been living here for five years, and I still haven't even been able to get past them, let alone go in!
CURA. I won’t be there now either ... Could you help me a little ...
HYDARBECK. I can't help you. If you run out of money, go to work.
CURA. Where?
HYDARBECK. There is one supermarket here… Overcoat No. 6. One Chechen works there - Usman. I put him there. He is going to Nice soon, to lie on the seashore under the sun. We will put you in his place...
CURA. And what is this job?...
HYDARBECK. Security... You need to make sure that no one steals goods from the store... Usman will explain everything to you.
CURA. Fine.
HYDARBECK. Well, if it's good, I'm off. I'm in a hurry. See you!
CURA. Thank you, HYDARBECK! What would I do without you?!

Picture Five

Supermarket. In uniform, Kura walks around the store and keeps a close eye on order. He brings his paintings into the supermarket, hangs up price tags and places them in front of the window.

USMAN. Listen to me, Kura. I had a hard time with this job. Take care of your workplace. Jobs are tight here. The main requirements for you are not to be late, to leave strictly after the end of the working day. I'll help you get comfortable at work for a couple of days, and then I'll leave for Nice.
CURA. OK. Usman, why are you leaving here?
USMAN. I can't stay in one place for long. The sea is waiting for me in Nice! Sea!

Cura puts her paintings on display.

SALES WOMAN. On ne vend pas ici de la peinture. C'est le magasin d'alimentation!
USMAN. He says that this is, firstly, not an art store, but a grocery store. And secondly, that you need to get permission from the owner of the store to sell paintings.
CURA. And who are they bothering? They will attract more buyers. Look at them, they are written in the triangle style. This is my unique style.
USMAN. Ils n'empechent pas. Ils aideront à augmenter la quantité d'acheteurs. Outre cela c'est le style unique du triangle.
SALES WOMAN. Même si c'est de la peinture de Van Gog, vous n'avez pas le droit de les mettre ici. Retirez immediatement. Elles ferment mon parmesan!
USMAN. He says that even if these are paintings by Van Gogh, you have no right to exhibit them here. Get them out of the window, they obscure her parmesan!
CURA. Well, I'll put at least one against the wall, where it won't block anything. Leave, Usman, at least this one ...

Suddenly, Kura notices that the customer has hidden a bottle of juice in his bosom and is heading towards the exit. Kura catches up with the thief, grabs him, he escapes.

CURA. Hey, you! Well, stop!
USMAN. Kura, what are you doing?! Let him go!
CURA. How is it to let go?! He stole the juice!
SALES WOMAN. (Calls the police). Police! Police!

The thief is trying to escape. Kura doesn't let him out, the thief's shirt is torn. The thief kicks the picture and breaks the frame. The police enter.

THIEF. Il a rompu ma chemise. Elle coûte cinquante euros.
CURA. Yes, this is old junk, they won’t even give you two euros for it ... You not only stole the juice, but also ruined my picture, which is worth five hundred euros.
THIEF. En outre il m'a renversé sur la terre et a battu.
USMAN. He says he threw him to the ground and beat him.
CURA. I haven't finished it properly yet.
POLICE OFFICER. Que-ce que s'etait passé?
CURA. What's happened? This one stole the juice, hid the bottle in his bosom and tried to escape. And I caught the thief.
USMAN. (translates to the policeman). Il a trapé le voleur!
POLICE OFFICER. C'est bien que vous avez empêché le crime. Mais il est interdit de battre le detenu. Il faut s'adresser à la police. Comment vous appelez-vous?
USMAN. Even if it's true, he says, you have no right to fight. It was necessary to call the police. He asks what is your name?
CURA. Ganaev Curie...
POLICE OFFICER (makes a request on the computer). Ganaev Cury… Il n’est pas dans la liste des transgresseurs de la loi? …. Merci.
USMAN. Mercy boku... Said you hadn't broken the law so far. Writes down your data to take note. (Curie) From now on, you will need to be very careful about any violations.
POLICE OFFICER. (Usman). Expliquez à votre employé des règles et des lois. On ne peut pas se batter avec les gens.
USMAN. Bien. Bien. Fine. We will teach him to obey the laws. He won't raise his hand to anyone else.

The policeman leaves.

THIEF. Monsieur le policier, et moi?
POLICE OFFICER. Comprendrons au commissariat de police.
THIEF. Je ne suis pas coupable!
POLICE OFFICER. Adieu.
SALES WOMAN. Il est une mauvaise personne. Je ne veux pas travailler avec lui.
USMAN. Kyura, she says you're a brawler and that she won't work with you anymore.
CURA. How will it not?! What did I do wrong?
SALES WOMAN. J'ai pas de temps de bavarder avec vous. Etemporte tes peintures, Picasso!
USMAN. Our work with you is finished, Curie. May the Almighty help you. I can't waste any more time with you. The sea is waiting for me, the sea!
CURA. Like you and the sea knee-deep ...

Cura collects her paintings. Leaves.

sixth picture

Kura on the square.

KYURA: What is this place?! You can’t catch a thief, you have to call the police ... What kind of talk is this, huh? We are all wrong. In the old days, if a thief climbed into someone's yard, then for every step he took in someone else's territory, he was fined in the form of a cow - ten steps - 10 cows, like that, or it was allowed to shoot him like a mad dog… What is this? (He speaks to the “monument” standing next to him). Hey you petrified! What kind of person is this Haydarbek? He told me that it is very good here, come, and now he refuses to lend even one euro. This is not human! Yes, talk already, even though you are covered with gold, but not a monument, in fact ... I figured you out. Do not be silent! Say something!

You're a living person, standing here asking for alms. And I also put two euros in your hat a month ago ... If only you knew how much I need them now! Listen, would you give me those two euros back? (The one who is standing moves the hat for money closer to him). Don't be afraid! Don't be afraid! I won't touch your money. I'm not such a useless person to steal money from a beggar. And do you know what we will do? ... I will put my picture next to you, the most complex picture - “Philosophy of the Triangle”. The starting price is ten euros. If there are buyers, I will throw more. (He writes the price and puts the picture at the foot of the "monument", which does not like it. He grumbles with displeasure). Do not be noisy. You are a monument. Stay calm. Do you want me to leave? I won't leave. Did you get these Shanzelises after the partition? This place belongs to everyone, it is a public domain.

Two Chechen boys enter, singing a song.

CHINESE. Bonaparte, atas!

Closes the doors of his cafe in a hurry.
"Monument" hides money from his hat.

FIRST YOUNG MAN.
Tomatoes in shawls,
In Gudermes - onions,
In Chechen-aul - garlic,
We will sell it all.
SECOND YOUNG MAN.
There is a beautiful hill in Khatuni,
There is a beautiful flower on the hill.
That flower is getting more and more beautiful.
And his name is Aishat.

One of the boys peers into the monument's hat, then tosses a picture of Kura. The second goes to the Chinese cafe,
to take money from him.

CURA. What language do they speak? Isn't that Chechen? Hey, wait, are you Chechens?
FIRST YOUNG MAN. No.
SECOND YOUNG MAN. No.
CURA. Yes, you speak Chechen!
FIRST. You have misunderstood it. We speak French.
SECOND. You are dreaming. (Sings) Tomatoes in Shawls, onions in Gudermes ...

A police whistle is heard. The guys are worried.

CURA. Wait, at least talk to me. My tongue is so yearning for Chechen speech. (Guys run away. Kyura returns. Not finding his picture, sticks to the monument). Where are you doing my picture? Well, give it back! Do not joke with me! Put my painting back! Maybe today it costs 10 euros, but tomorrow they will give all five hundred euros for it. I told you, give me the picture! I will now squeeze your stone throat and strangle you!

Kura grabs the “monument” by the throat, it breaks free and screams.

SHIKHMIRZA. "Monument". Help! People, help!
CURA. (Releases the statue.) Oh! Are you a Chechen?! Or am I really dreaming?!
SHIKHMIRZA. This is not a dream! I am Chechen! What are you doing to me! I'm honestly trying to earn my living here...
CURA. Forgive me, please, I could not even think that you would turn out to be a Chechen.
SHIKHMIRZA. And you have to think! There is nothing to scoff at, it is still unknown what can happen to you. There your daub lies ...
CURA. You will soon find out what a daub it is ...

"Monument" departs, takes a heroic pose. Kura finds her painting thrown aside, sees the policemen and leaves.

Seventh picture

Montmartre. There are many artists, tourists, paintings, merchants here. Cura puts his picture next to the artist who sells portraits.

TOURIST. How beautifully drawn! I don't look like myself...
ARTIST. I tried to show not your beauty, but your inner state.
TOURIST. How do you know what's inside of me?! I won't pay for this picture.
ARTIST. That's how I found out what you are. Wait, madam, I'll paint you another picture.
TOURIST. It is better to take a picture than to order a portrait for you ... (Leaves).
ARTIST. Here is a strange woman!

Kura looks at one of the paintings.

ARTIST. (Seeing a picture of Kyura) You are a Chechen.
CURA. Yes. How did you find out?
ARTIST. I recognize a Chechen wherever I meet... You have a special look. Even with a ruble in your pocket, behave like kings...
CURA. You speak Chechen so well!
ARTIST. I was born and lived for forty years in Grozny... My name is Yury Borisovich. And your name?
CURA. My name is Kura. I was looking for a Chechen to speak my native language, but I found a Russian ....
Yu.B. I really liked to speak Chechen and listen to it. He has a great melody. Do you know what Leo Tolstoy said about the Chechen language? “The Chechen language is one of the most beautiful and richest languages ​​in the world, because in this language it is possible to express the most subtle movements of the human soul, if it is mastered to perfection.” Did you draw this picture?
CURA. Yes, I brought it to sell.
Yu.B. Not bad. Some pain, some suffering is felt in your picture... But it seems to me that something is missing...
CURA. I have a thirst for creativity, I want to write and write. But I don't have what I need...
Yu.B. I will give you what you need. Come at any time and work... You can leave this painting with me. I will try to sell. How much are you asking for it?
CURA. Yes, I don’t know ... How much they will give for it, at that price and sell it.
Yu.B. (Yu.B. gives the Cure an easel and paints). Here, take this, you can't take breaks in creativity.
CURA. Thank you, Yuri Borisovich, you helped me out so much!
Yu.B. It's nothing, we are countrymen, we must help each other.

Cura walks around Montmartre. At this time Khaidarbek comes running.

HYDARBECK. Assalamu alaikum.
CURA. Wa alaikum salam! What are you doing here, Haidarbek?
HYDARBEK: Yes, I'm doing something, and why are you here? Shouldn't you be at work?
KYURA: They fired me...
HYDARBECK. For what?
KYURA: For not speaking tenderly to the thief.
HYDARBECK: Don't worry, we'll find you another job...

Participants of the rally enter.

CURA. And who is this? Where did you come from?
HYDARBECK. These are union members going to the rally. They are against labor reform. Come here, stand next to me and shout: "We are against the new labor law."
CURA. Why would I scream? What do I care about their law?
HYDARBECK. What are you! You now live here, you should be with them in trouble and in joy. This reform will affect you too!
CURA. Yes?! Well, then it cannot be allowed to be carried out. What did you say there is a need to shout?
HYDARBECK. Yell whatever you want! Only more aggressively, and order!
CURA. Down with the new law!
HYDARBECK. Exactly! Into the Seine your cruel law!
CURA. Cursed be the one who passed this law!
HYDARBECK. To shoot from a cannon at the authors of this law!
CURA. To burn him with a blue flame!
HYDARBECK. Wow! Exactly!
CURA. We demand higher wages for workers! To the prison of deputies!
JOURNALIST. Monsieur, monsieur, give an interview to French television...

The protesters look with surprise at the dispersed Chechens. Correspondent approaches. Khaidarbek speaks to him. Khaidarbek points his finger at Kura and says something.

CURA. What are you talking about?
HYDARBECK. Yes, I tell him about you. Now you tell him what's going on in our house. He will publish it in the newspaper, it will help you get positive.
CURA. I'll talk to him myself...
HYDARBECK. Should I translate?
CURA. No, I've already mastered French quite well.
CORREMPONDENT. We are very glad that a representative of the Chechen trade union is taking part in our action. Tell us how you came up with the idea to support us?
CURA. In any dispute, we are on the side of the truth. This is our law.
CORREMPONDENT. How did you manage to escape from the authorities who were persecuting you?
CURA. I? I didn't run away from the authorities... I'm an artist. I created a new style in painting - triangleism ...
HYDARBECK. They don't need it! I'll talk to him myself, about what follows. And from time to time you shout: “The reform will not pass!”

A black girl stands next to Curie. Khaidarbek is talking to a correspondent. Then the latter says goodbye to Kyura and Khaidarbek.

CORRESPONDENT. Went. Sensation! (leaves)
HYDARBECK. Bye bye! God willing, something good will come of it. And who do we have here?
ANGELA. Je suis Anjela.
CURA. Apparently from Africa. She says her name is Angela.
HYDARBECK. I'll figure out where she's from. When the time comes, I'll come to you. Well, and now... Bye... More precisely - the haunt! Angela, baby... or rather, Angela Davis, let's go, we've got to go.
ANGELA. And Curie?
HYDARBECK. No, not Curie - Haydarbek!
CURA. Go already... You're always in a hurry. Since I arrived, you have not found fifteen minutes to sit with me. It's not Chechen.
HYDARBECK. Buddy, I have a lot of things to do now ... Later ... Later we will sit together. Not now...

Leaves with Angela.

CURA. What are you trying to catch up with, rushing like mad. As for me, I don't really catch up with what you do.

Cura paints a picture in Montmartre.

Yu.B. Where have the local artists gone?
CURA. They left with the trade unions for a rally.
Yu.B. How is your work going?
CURA. Fine. I feel some special inspiration in myself.
Yu. B. This is a great place for creativity. Take it. (Holds out money.)
CURA. What is this money?
Yu.B. I sold your painting for 50 euros.
CURA. They paid well. Half is yours.
Yu.B. What you! Don't even dare to think. Such things between fellow countrymen are unacceptable.
CURA. Excuse me, Yuri Borisovich, here everyone is only concerned with their own affairs, that's why I said so.
Yu.B. Could I do something more for you! My father would be unhappy with me if I didn't help you. Until the end of his days, he felt guilty towards the Chechens and did everything good for them. Dying and bequeathed to me to live the same way.
CURA. Why did he feel guilty?
Yu.B. (After a pause). In 1944, when your people were evicted, my father drove one of the Studabakers, in which Chechens were taken to the wagons ... And this stuck in his memory. On this frosty day - no old people, no women, no children - no one was spared, they were ruthlessly driven out of their homes. What hurt him the most was that he was powerless to help them. Although against my will, I became a participant in this monstrous injustice, he said with tears in his eyes. From all the Chechens whom he knew, he asked for forgiveness for this sin of his. When the war began, and I had to leave the region in which I was born and raised, and come here, I thought: what horror did the Chechens go through, forcibly deported to Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, thrown into the cold steppes, if I am now so hard going through separation from homeland.
CURA. It looks like your father was a good man! And you are a good person. Thank you, Yuri Borisovich. When I finish my painting, I will come to you so that you can give it your assessment.
Yu.B. Fine. And come back often.

Eighth picture

Khaidarbek is changing money for some Chechen.
Kyura stands and listens to their conversation.

HYDARBECK. Come on, I'll change it. And I will change rubles. How many do you have?
CHECHEN. Eighty thousand rubles ...
HYDARBECK. In what currency - euro, dollar?..
CHECHEN. Come on Euro...
HYDARBECK. I owe you five thousand euros. Here they are, don't tell a living soul that I'm changing money. I agreed solely out of pity for you, but no one else. I do not need it.
CHECHEN. May the Almighty be pleased with you, Haydarbek!
HYDARBECK. May everyone be happy. Everyone!
HYDARBECK. Salam!
CURA. Wa alaikum salam! Khaidarbek, how did it work out with you and Angela?
HYDARBECK. Oh don't even talk. Almost embarrassed.
CURA. Why?
HYDARBECK. So she didn’t turn out to be Angela, so it was empty for her, but Andre! Where is the woman, where is the man you can’t tell! You, too, keep your ears open.
CURA. I have nothing to fear from them. Listen, I have good news. They bought my painting "Symphony of the Triangle" for 50 euros. Our business is on the mend. We are already known in Montmartre. But to paint new pictures, you need money for inventory, paints, canvases. Could you lend me some? As soon as I sell the paintings, I will immediately return the debt.
HYDARBECK. Curie, I already spoke. This is not Chechnya for you. There is no lending money here. This is Europe. Man to man is a wolf.
CURA. Yes, they are wolves! Hurry, jackals… everyone…
HYDARBECK. Are you hinting at me? And by the way, I found you both a job and a place to live.
CURA. What is the work?
HYDARBECK. Look after an elderly woman.
CURA. How to look after?
HYDARBECK. Yes, look after it. Go to the store for her, buy medicines, make sure that she takes them, supply water, take it out into the fresh air, take a walk in the park.
CURA. I agree. I'm not in the position to go through the work.
HYDARBECK. If you agree, here's your address. Go. I'm from Jacques-Chechen, tell me. That's what they call me here. Fulfill all her whims. She is a good old woman... She learns the Chechen language, poor thing, she was surrounded by dictionaries and phrasebooks.
CURA. Why does she need the Chechen language?
HYDARBECK. I don’t know, the local pensioners with their visits… Ahhh, I almost forgot! Your family called me, asking you to contact them tomorrow at ten in the morning.
CURA. Fine.
HYDARBECK. Well, okay, then let's quickly go to Mirei.
CURA. Who is Mirei?
HYDARBECK. This is your old lady. Listen to Mireille, and your affairs will go smoothly.
CURA. Fine. I don't mind things getting better.
HYDARBECK. Come on, sit down. I'll take you!
CURA. Onward to Mirei!

Ninth picture

Cura in Mireille's apartment

MIREIL. (In the hands of a dictionary, he speaks Chechen with difficulty in syllables). Must be done today. To the store, groceries.
CURA. Got it, I need to go to the grocery store. Have you made a list? (pointing to a list).
MIREIL. That's her. (Shows a sheet.)
CURA. You have to say "he". The list is him.
MIREIL. Oui-oui, he... Medicines...
CURA. I see… Buy medicines. Go to the pharmacy ... Did you write it down?
MIREIL. (Gives him a list.) Stove…
CURA. Stove?!
MIREIL. Oooh, no, no. Garden.
CURA. Ahh, the park. Take a walk in the park. This is a daily routine. A walk in the park - this should be closely monitored, a mandatory item of the daily routine. And together we will strictly observe it. But first, let me call home. It's 8 o'clock here, so we have ten. It's time to call. May I, dear Mireille?
MIREIL. Oui-oui, you can - you can ...
CURA. Thank you grandma...
MIREIL. Granny?!
CURA. Excuse me, sorry, madam... that is - mademoiselle... (calling via Skype) Ale, monsieur, madam, mamzel, silvouple, tuzhug1. Yes, not a jacket, I say - tuzhug1. Mom, hello! I hear, mom, if you scream like that, I'll go deaf. Did our neighbors see me on TV at the rally? With a black girl? No, they must have been wrong. It seemed to them or dreamed ... What happened that I should immediately come home? Are you sick, mom? ... Thank God that you are healthy ... Yes, I'm getting married, and there are a lot of women here ... Mom, they don’t get married so quickly. We must get to know each other, take a closer look, like each other ... Okay, mom, okay, choose a bride for me and let her come ... Mom, I won’t be able to come soon, I’m waiting for them to give me a positive. Mom, don’t worry about me so much, as soon as things get better here, I’ll immediately pick you up ... hello ... mom? .. Interrupted ...
MIREIL. Maman?
CURA. Yes, it was my mother. Wants me to get married. Wife…
MIREIL. (Looks into the dictionary.) Wife ... la fam ... la fam ...
CURA. Yes, yes, la fam ... He says to marry ...
MIREIL. (Pointing a finger at himself). La femme, wife, handsome! (thumb up).
CURA. I know you are a good person... Especially when you dress up...
MIREIL. (Looks into the dictionary) Maman? Where is maman?
CURA. Where? At home. In Chechnya. In the Caucasus.
MIREIL. Oui, Kokyaz, mountain ...
CURA. Yes, there are mountains...
MIREIL. I want a voyage to Kokyaz… voyage…
CURA. It would be nice if I came home ... with you! Come on, let's make a voyage to your park.
MIREIL. Ah, the park, the park. (Leave)

Scene ten

Khaidarbek is talking on the phone.

HYDARBECK. Arrived, you mean? It's very good... Well, you know, it's not easy to eat hot porridge... You can't get to Paris without difficulty. Now here's what to do: throw away your passport and go to the immigration office. Have you forgotten what you are supposed to say? Fine. Be in touch. Hello, I'm listening... Do you need a Mullah? Why do you need a mullah? Are you getting married? And I won't come? Although I am not a mullah, I saw how they perform marriage, I have witnessed them many times. The Chechen mullah will cost you dearly. If Algerian or Moroccan is fine, they are cheaper! If you marry a Frenchwoman, then here in Paris in the largest temple - Notre Dame de Paris, their abbot will marry you, ha ha ha! Do not get all huffy, I'm just kidding you. Wait a minute, they call me ... (Speaks on another phone) Hello, Segiyrat, is that you? Good afternoon. How did you not meet? Where did you go? I don't know anything, Segiyrat, now I'll figure it out and solve this matter. Curie must come here. Don't worry, we won't leave him without a wife. Goodbye. (Speaking on another phone) Hello, do you need a mullah? I'll be back in an hour to sort this out. I can’t come right now, I have to help many people here to resolve situations, they are like sheep for salt here, you might think that their ancestors fought in the Napoleonic army. Arevoir.

Two Chechen guys go out on bicycles. Kura enters.

CURA. Haidarbek, Haidarbek, Assalam alaikum!.. This old woman of yours is somehow abnormal!
HYDARBECK. Well, yes, she's a bit unfriendly with her head, but don't be afraid - she's not violent ...
CURA. I have something to be afraid of her! It's just that she somehow indecently dissolves her hands, and went wrong - lyamur-lyamur.
HYDARBECK. What is indecent to you is very decent to her. You don't know what "lamour" is? You've been living in France for two months now, but you haven't heard anything about lamour? Yes, this is their most important word. Love, love is what it means. A girl fell in love with a guy. This is pure luck for you.
CURA. For whom? For me? This pensioner and me? What are you talking about?
HYDARBECK. Why are you so surprised? It happens between a man and a woman - love. My advice to you is listen to her. If she wants to marry you, marry her. You will not regret. All her property will go to us, that is, I wanted to say - to you, but how much longer she will stretch is unknown.
CURA. What are you carrying? How can I marry this old woman! I won't marry even if she dies tomorrow. I'm Chechen, got it?
HYDARBECK. So what if you're a Chechen? You are a Chechen, that one is an Algerian, the third one… Do you remember, in our village there was such a son of Alavdi Zhalavdi. He also boiled everything - I'm a Chechen, I'm a Chechen ... So what ?! Now he has changed his name and is called Natan Shmulevich, married a Jewess, left for Israel and lives in clover ... He bathes in wealth, like a bee in honey. He doesn't even want to talk to me.
CURA. Let Zhalavdi do what he pleases. I will not lose my name by marrying an elderly madam.
HYDARBECK. Fu-you, well-you! What is the name! Who knows you? Who needs you? Yes, in this Europe, marriage with old women is a common thing. They will also praise you for your kindness and mercy.
CURA. I can't live like this. Call Mireille and tell her that you can't touch her again.
HYDARBECK. Ahhh, I forgot to tell you... your family called... They asked why you didn't meet the bride they sent to you.
CURA. I went to meet her. From morning till evening I stood at the airport, ran to every plane from Russia.
HYDARBECK. Charles de Gaulle is to blame.
CURA. And here de Gaulle, he died a long time ago?!
HYDARBECK. Moreover ... The plane was supposed to land at Charles de Gaulle airport, but arrived in Orly ...
CURA. I was told that all planes from Moscow arrive there ...
HYDARBECK. They flew in, but that day there was fog in the Charles de Gaulle area, and the flights were transferred to Orly.
CURA. Well…
HYDARBECK. Well, some of your namesake, who ended up at this airport, took the bride sent to you.
CURA. So how did you get it?
HYDARBECK. In so, took away! ... Some Algerian married them, and voila - she is the wife of another. Looks like a beauty, damn it...
CURA. Mom wouldn't bring me an ugly bride... It could only happen to me! I am an unfortunate person!
HYDARBECK. Yes, you are not an unfortunate person! You're a fool... And why don't you agree to Mireille!? ... Never mind, we'll find a younger one.
CURA. Yes, calm down, I don’t need to look for brides. I'm disappointed in all women because of this one.
HYDARBECK. It will go away as soon as you get rich. So far, need has not taken you by the throat, but it will soon. And then you will remember Mireille. I was also the same as you - principled ... But I had to say goodbye to principles. The woman I courted was ten years older than your Mireille. Of course, the older the better. This quickly frees you from yourself ...
CURA. In your opinion, without marrying an elderly lady, it will not be possible to build a life here?
HYDARBECK. No, it will succeed if you are up to your neck in the mud, you will work hard day and night. I offered you an easy way to success ...
CURA. Leave your own path!
HYDARBECK. Well, I have no other job for you than sweeping the streets and taking out the trash.
CURA. It's better than what you suggest. Goodbye, HYDARBECK.

Kyura slaps Khaidarbek on the shoulder, Khaidarbek falls.

HYDARBECK. You don't drop me!

Eleventh painting

Kura sweeps the street with a broom. Accordionist Francois plays.
In the corner stands "Monument" - Shikhmirza.

SHIKHMIRZA. Salute, Francois!
FRANCOIS. Salute, Bonaparte!
CURA. Salam alaikum, I still don't know your name... How are you?
SHIKHMIRZA. Yes, here I am… My name is Shikhmirza.
CURA. Do you remember, Shikhmirza, how you told me: “It is not known what you will come to”? You turned out to be right. How could I even in a nightmare see that I was sweeping the streets of Paris.
SHIKHMIRZA. I, too, waved a lot with such a broom until I found this case. When they called from home and asked what my job was, I said that I kept order on the streets. They thought that I was working as a big boss in the mayor's office. Cleaning the streets is much better, brother, than stealing...
CURA. And I think so! (Kyura sings a Chechen melody to a French musician, he picks it up and plays it. Kura turns in a dance). Oh, I would dance like that in my homeland!

Janet enters.

ZHANETA. Are you a Chechen?
CURA. (stops dancing). Of course, are you a Chechen?
ZHANETA. Yes, praise be to Allah, I am a Chechen… My name is Zhaneta.
CURA. Where are you from?
ZHANETA. Has arrived. I live in the suburbs of Paris. where the refugees were placed.
CURA. Here I am... hanging out...

Mayrbeck approaches them.

MAYRBEC. Assalamu alaikum, I heard a Chechen melody and approached. And you speak Chechen?
CURA. Wa alaikum salam. And how not to speak Chechen if we are Chechens?
MAYRBEC. Well, I am also a Chechen. Mayrbeck is my name.
CURA. I am Curie, she is Janet, and this is Shikhmirza. What brings you here, Mayrbeck?
MAYRBEC. I'm coming from Norway. The Strasbourg Court will consider my case.
CURA. What's the deal, if not a secret?
MAYRBEC. Yes, what secrets are there ... About ten years ago I left my homeland and live in Norway. I thought I'd collect some money and go home. And suddenly, one day at dawn, representatives of the authorities came and took my children from me.
CURA. How did they take it?!
MAYRBEC. Like this... I tell them what are you doing? And they tell me: you received a complaint from your neighbors that you are cruel to children. What do you mean, I answer, who can love children more than their father and mother? We couldn't mistreat them... They didn't even listen to us. They said that while the proceedings are ongoing, the children will be placed in an orphanage. Three months have already passed, and my three children have not been given away.
CURA. Yes, how is it possible to take children from the father-mother!?
MAYRBEC. Having achieved nothing in the Norwegian courts, I took my case to the international court in Strasbourg. If they don’t help here either, nothing remains but to steal the children and send them home.
CURA. Mayrbek, if you need a comrade, then here I am, even now I am ready to go with you.
MAYRBEC. Thank you. May Allah Almighty be pleased with you! This is the speech of a true Chechen. The court will be in a month, after that, if necessary, we will see you.
CURA. Well, maybe we'll dance in honor of our meeting! Get in the circle, Mayrbeck! Go, Janet, raise the spirit of our brother with your beautiful dance! François, come on Chechen!

The musician plays a lezginka. Kura asks Mairbeck to dance. At this time, the emigrant Dardan jumps out into the dance circle. Pushing Mairbeck away, he approaches Janet.

DARDAN. Pourquoi tu es venue ici? Allons, nous partons!
MAYRBEC. What are you doing boy? Why are you jumping around like a mad dog? She won't go anywhere.
DARDAN. Ce n'est pas votre affaire!
MAYRBEC. How is it none of my business! I ask, what are you doing!?
CURA. Who is this? Where did he come from?
ZHANETA. As he got me already. And he came here!
CURA. Who is he?
ZHANETA. I don't know who he is or where he comes from. I only know that his name is Dardan. He follows me everywhere. He lives in the same place as me. He has already tortured everyone ... He especially clings to women, he does not give a pass. Offends. Everyone is afraid of him. And he tormented me, demanding that I marry him ...
CURA. What are these conversations? Does he think the Chechen family has dried up?
ZHANETA. He knows that I was left alone ... (crying)
CURA. (to Dardanus) Dardanus! (shouting) Hey, Dardanus! If you talk to that girl again, I'll make you wish you were born!
DARDAN. Tais-toi! Va-t'en au diable!

Dardan, eyes flashing, approaches Curie.

CURA. Mayrbeck, let him go!

Dardan shouts back, throws himself at Curie with a knife,
he takes away the knife and wounds Dardanus in the leg. Dardanus screams in pain,
Mayrbek and Shikhmirza drag him away.

DARDAN. Police! Police!

Dardanus is holding on to his leg, screaming.

ZHANETA. Curie, thank you for saving me from this horror... I will never forget how you protected me. I came to this country with my father and mother 10 years ago. Then it was 15 years old. Two years ago my father died, my mother and I were left alone ...
CURA. May Allah have mercy on him!
ZHANETA. Amine.
CURA. Rest assured, Janet, as long as I live, you will not be alone. But you will have to change apartments.
ZHANETA. If it were possible, we would not have stayed there even a day.
CURA. God willing, I will help you with this. Then we need to think and decide what we will do next.

Mayrbeck fits.

SHIKHMIRZA. Curie, tell us about your decision too.
MAYRBEC. Certainly.
ZHANETA. I don't understand what you mean...
MAYRBEC. Only about the good. Curie understands what I'm talking about...

The phone rings.

CURA. Yes, enough for you ... (Looks at the phone). They call from home. Sorry. Hello, Melizha, is that you? Why are you crying? Khaydarbek told us what happened here. What to do, see fate so ordered that she married that man. You shouldn't cry over this. The world is full of women. I will marry someone else when I get home, so that both you and your mother are happy. Isn't that why you're crying? Togla why? Died? Who died?.. Oh, Allah Almighty... When, how?.. Do you hear me, do you hear?.. Mom-ah-ah... (Screams, then grabs his heart and falls, Mayrbek picks it up).
MAYRBEC. Curie! Curie! What's up, Curie?
CURA. Mom died…
MAYRBEC. May Allah have mercy on her! May the Almighty grant you patience and endurance, Kura...
ZHANETA. Amine. May Allah enter her into the gates of Paradise...
CURA. She asked me so much to come home, as if she had a presentiment ... I didn’t have time to bring her ... Mom, mom ... How can I live in this world without you ... I have to go home ... How will they bury my mother without me ?! ... Mayrbek, how quickly can I get home? You've been here for a long time, you should know...
MAYRBEC. Getting home is not as easy as coming from Norway to France… Where are your documents? I will buy a ticket...
CURA. I don't have a passport...
MAYRBEC. Passport…

The police are coming. They handcuff Kyura and take him away. Janet runs after them.

POLICE OFFICER. Monsieur…
ZHANETA. Release him! Let go! It's not his fault!
MAYRBEC. Curie, don't worry, I'll find a way to get you out. I know a good lawyer here.
ZHANETA. Let him go! Let go! (Janeta cries, runs after them. Kyura is taken away). Curie… because of me your wings were tied… if not for me, you would be free… I bring misfortune to everyone… is my fate really such a bitter one?

Twelfth picture

Chinese cafe. Kura enters.

CHINESE. Bonjour, monsieur!
CURA. Bonjour, Jackie Chan... I'll sit here.
CHINESE. Un croissant, du the?
CURA. No, you don’t need anything… sit with me for a while…. I haven't been in for a long time, right? There was one thing to be done. I settled it, I even had to use a knife so as not to die. I was taken to the police, I had to sit there. But my actions were recognized as self-defense, and they let me go. This was self-defense… Many came to testify in my favor – Chechens, French, Algerians, and Kurds… Everyone whom Dardan did not let live… Thanks to their testimony, I was released, glory to the Almighty…. What is this? I said, you don’t need anything ... They look like mother’s cakes with cottage cheese - chepilgsh ... Mom often cooked them ... She baked them, then washed them with hot water, greased each with oil, and, finally, cut into four parts.

Then she laid them out on a plate and sent me to the neighbors to distribute sadaqa. At home, my mother always sent us on Thursdays to distribute sadaka. Recently, more and more often I dream of my homeland, my childhood. And yesterday, the deceased father appeared to me. Where has it brought you, he says, neither in grief nor in joy are you with your loved ones? He is right. At home, I went to weddings, to Movlid, and to funerals. There were important things to do every day. And here what? Nothing. Everyone only thinks about the euro. How can you live so thoughtlessly, having become slaves of money? Without a goal, a person turns into an animal. It seems to me that my life here is empty, there is no meaning in it. But the meaning is in faith in God, in serving Him ... At home it is. Thursday evening, Friday day - ruzba, mutual assistance and support. Daimohk-homeland is not only mountains, valleys, rivers and springs. Daimohk is, first of all, our people, the connections between them, the common language that everyone speaks - their native language ... And here it's every man for himself. I'm tired. I want to go home…

Kura leaves.

Thirteenth painting

Night. Cura is working on a painting. Yury Borisovich enters.

Yu.B. Curie! Curie! Are you home?
CURA. Good morning, Yuri Borisovich.
Yu.B. I came to find out why you haven't shown up for a long time...

Kura removes the veil from the canvas and shows her work to Yu.B. He looks at the picture for a long time, unable to utter a word from surprise ...

Yu.B. My friend, you have not calmed down ...
CURA. What does it mean?
Yu.B. He did not calm down until he became a real artist ... This is true art.
CURA. Do you really think so, Yuri Borisovich?
Yu.B. Is it true. This picture will glorify you. What is it called?
CURA. "Dreams of the Motherland".
Yu.B. "Dreams of the Motherland"... This painting will not stagnate at the exhibition, it will immediately find a buyer... Here they will pay well for it. And over time, its price will only increase. The time will come when your painting will hang in the Louvre, and people will come specially to look at it.
CURA. Yuri Borisovich, I will not sell this painting, and it will hang not in the Louvre, but at home.
Yu.B. You made the right decision. Your house is a red house, there is such a proverb among the Chechens. Before your head turns gray, like mine, come back home... You know how I want to come back! To go to the graves of my father and mother… I put off everything until later, day after day, my return to my homeland, and spent years on this… Are your parents alive? Curie?.. (Curie's heart becomes bad, he falls). Curie, Curie, what are you? What happened to you?

The sound of an ambulance siren.

Fourteenth painting

Janet wanders down a Parisian street, remembering Curie.

ZHANETA. My Kura... Your name means falcon. I need you so much, my KURA with strong wings... I had a hope that you would become my companion in life... And now my heart is empty, the bird has flown from the nest. Come back, falcon, fill my empty soul with life. Kura, fairy tale of my heart, my dear falcon...

Fifteenth painting

Yuri Borisovich, Mayrbek, Shikhmirza put up the paintings of Kyura for sale in one of the Parisian squares. They hold an action in support of the sick artist.

Yu.B. Look gentlemen! Wonderful works written in the style of triangleism! This is a unique style in painting, which the world has not yet seen!
MAN. Whose work is this? They are so weird!
Yu.B. These are paintings by Curie Ganaev. They reflect the traditions of the Caucasus, the images of people, their customs, their experiences and dreams!
MAN. Price?
Yu.B. This one costs 100 euros!
MAYRBEC. How beautifully written! I take it!
FRENCHWOMAN. Listen, monsieur, how much is that painting over there?
Yu.B. She's a little more expensive. 150 euros. On the topic - spring in the mountains of Chechnya. Ah, if you only knew how beautiful spring is in the Chechen mountains... Even the stones are blooming there...
FRENCHWOMAN. I am buying this painting. Spring is my favorite time of the year.
Yu.B. This canvas reflects a deep philosophy. Caucasian towers! Do you know what it is? Combat towers, like guards guarding their native land - that's what it is! Each stone in them is shrouded in mystery!
SHIKHMIRZA. Give me a picture. I will try to unravel this mystery.
OLD WOMAN. Well, wait. I buy this painting!

Passers-by are snapping up Kura's paintings. Kura enters.

CURA. What's going on here? Are these my paintings?
Yu.B. Hello Curie. When did you leave the hospital? Are you better?
CURA. I'm just going from there.
MAYRBEC. So that thousands of misfortunes bypass you ...
SHIKHMIRZA. Amine.
CURA. Thank you.
Yu. B. We sold all your works today.
CURA. All?! I hope you didn't sell my latest work?
Yu.B. Of course not! She belongs in the Chechen museum! Here, take your masterpiece. (Gives the picture to Cure).
MAYRBEC. Curie, we were collecting money for you...
Yu.B. Nah, here's the income from your work. (Gives money to Cure)
CURA. Thank you friends.
SHIKHMIRZA. You got out of the hospital so fast! Have you gotten any better?
CURA. Yes. Got better. When such friends worry about you, the disease flees from the body ...
SHIKHMIRZA. Praise the Almighty! God save you from a thousand trials. Well, friends, I went to another job. Before I forget that I'm Napoleon!

Shikhmirza leaves.

HEDA. Curie, Curie! Hello!
CURA. Heda, are you here? May Allah bless you.
HEDA. I came when I learned that Chechens were gathering here. I have good news for you.
CURA. What's the news?
HEDA. Did you take part in the rally?
CURA. Well, I participated - that's a strong word, I just ended up there by accident, barely escaped.
HEDA. Look, here is your photo at the rally. And an interview. (shows newspaper)
CURA. Interview? And what's there?
HEDA. You've said everything you need to say here.
CURA. About what?
HEDA. You say here that you can't live in Russia. That every 50 years the Russian government destroys our people under far-fetched pretexts. That the best sons of the people are being killed, like your great-grandfather Sheikh Mansour. They also brutally dealt with your mother's uncle Zelimkhan Kharachoevsky.
CURA. I didn't say anything like that. And Sheikh Mansur and Zelimkhan are not my relatives.
HEDA. You may not have said it, but what is written here is exactly what you should have said. Your interview was highly appreciated by the migration service. Now you will definitely be given a positive. In two days they will make a decision on your case. Well, that's it, I have to hurry to work. I ran. Until the meeting.
MAYRBEC. Goodbye.
Yu.B. Come on, Curie, don't worry, don't you know journalists?
CURA. Yuri Borisovich, thank you, you have done so much for me. I will never forget this... Mayrbeck, I have one issue to be resolved within two or three days, and after that we will go to Norway on your case.
MAYRBEC. Don't think about it, it hasn't been considered in the Strasbourg Court yet.
CURA. No? When will they consider it?
MAYRBEC. Weeks after two. Whatever happens, it is the will of Allah.
CURA. Everything will be fine, God willing.
Yu.B. I'll go to my pencils. Come to me. I will paint your portraits. Goodbye.
MAYRBEC. And I'll go, Curie. We'll be in touch. Goodbye.
CURA. Bon Voyage.

Both leave.

Sixteenth painting

Kura and Janet are alone in the square.

ZHANETA. Kyura, why are you so gloomy? What is bothering you?
CURA. When I was little, I saw life as an endless plain, but in fact it turned out to be short, like a street in a mountain village ... And this short life must be lived close to relatives and friends, thanking the Almighty for every new day ... Janet, nothing can be hidden from you …
ZHANETA. That's why don't try to hide the truth from me, tell it like it is.
CURA. I didn't mean to upset you. But since you say so, I can't help but open up to you. The doctors said I was sick. Incurably ill.
ZHANETA. Is ill?! How?! This can't be true... (Crying).
CURA. Don't cry Janet. The doctors could be wrong. Whatever happens, there will be only what is prescribed by the Almighty. To be honest, as soon as I saw you, I thought: here is the girl who has always lived in my dreams ... I had a desire to spend the rest of my life with you ...
ZHANETA. And now that desire is gone?
CURA. It didn't disappear, but...
ZHANETA. Do not lose faith in the mercy of Allah. He will help. I heard from my father: for every disease, the Almighty gave a cure. I, a sister without a brother, will pray for you.
CURA. Thank you Janet, I thank the Almighty for getting to know you. Although we have known each other for a short time, every minute with you was happy.
ZHANETA. Curie, we are two, but the disease is one. With the help of Allah, we will overcome it.

It's starting to rain. Kura and Janet leave in the rain.

Seventeenth painting

Haydarbek on the street of Paris. Kura enters.

CURA. Assalamu alaikum.
HYDARBEK: Wa alaikum salaam. You told me to come quickly, but you yourself are late. In short, I'm in a hurry, what do you need?
KYURA: You're always in a hurry! Buy me a ticket home...
HYDARBECK. How is it home?
CURA. Home - to Chechnya.
HYDARBECK. What are you saying, how will you go home if you haven't been positive yet?
CURA. I don't need any positive, put me on a plane to Moscow.
HYDARBECK. But how can I put you on a plane, you don’t have a single document?
CURA. I had a document - a passport ... But you tore it up.
HYDARBECK. Broke, yes! You thought you really came here to live. And now you're naughty like a child.
CURA. I would show you how capricious they are if we were not in a foreign country. Quickly figure out how to send me home if you don't want to quarrel with me.
HYDARBECK. At least swear at me, at least kill me, but I can’t do anything. I don't bring people home. I help them get here.
CURA. I know you made a business out of it! You are not afraid of anything. I don't care about that! I must go home. As soon as possible.
HYDARBECK. Wait a minute. I saw Kheda yesterday... She said that the migration authorities really liked your interview with Le Monde...
CURA. I liked it, I didn’t like it - I didn’t say anything like that, what is written there. Lies are total. This is what you said, probably.
HYDARBECK. What did I do wrong? Here people are like that. Whatever you say, they will still write only what they like. This is the West! West!
CURA. I won't spend five minutes more in this West! If a father in a family is not allowed to be a father, a mother is not allowed to be a mother, for catching a thief they are fired, if you don’t marry an old woman, you won’t arrange life, children can be taken away from parents - what kind of country is this !?
HYDARBECK. Bro, in order to buy a ticket home, you need to wait until they give you a positive, or they can send you a new Russian passport from your homeland, or you need to come to the local authorities and demand that you be expelled. Deport! Yes, be patient, why are you in a hurry, like a fire?
CURA. Yes, I have a fire! How could there be a bigger fire if my mother died, and I was neither with her, nor at her funeral? ..
HYDARBECK. Sorry! I did not know! May Allah Almighty have mercy on her!
CURA. Amine. Besides, I got sick.
HYDARBECK. Is it true?! May Allah bless you! Don't you dare die here. Here, three skins will be torn off for the funeral. Or, like in Marseilles, where a Chechen died, you will have to carry your body for two weeks or even a month until you send it home.
CURA. I know that there is no one to drag me home from here ...
HYDARBECK. Do not drown home, they say, in Germany they treat all diseases ...
CURA. I don't need treatment either here or there. Getting home is the best medicine for me.
HYDARBECK. Well, I have described the way out of this situation. Curie, I'm in a hurry, our artists have been here for almost a week, and in two hours they will fly home. I need to pass a bag with them.
CURA. Artists? Are they going home?
HYDARBECK. Well, yes, the plane is in a couple of hours. If I offended you in any way, you must forgive me, okay? I really wanted to help you... Hey, brother? Hear what I'm saying?
CURA. What you said?
HYDARBECK. I apologized to you! I'm sorry! Sorry!
CURA. Yes, I forgive you...
HYDARBECK. Well, okay. Thank you. Patience to you. Bye. I hurry...

Eighteenth picture

Airport. Kura is looking for Chechen artists with her eyes. Sees one.

CURA. Scrap Ali! Scrap Ali! (Screams).
LOM-ALI. Assalamu alaikum, Chechen!
CURA. Wa alaikum salaam, how good, Lom-Ali, that I saw you. For so long I dreamed of hearing your song about the motherland at least once ...
LOM-ALI. Oh, where have you been so far? We played concerts here for a whole week.
CURA. I couldn't come to the concert. I was in the hospital... Sing this song about your native land now, I beg you...
LOM-ALI. Well, how uncomfortable it is to sing at the airport. Can't be like.
CURA. It is possible here too. Sing!

Lom-Ali looks around in confusion.

LOM-ALI. Since you ask so, you have to sing.

DISPATCHER. L'embarquement du vol de Paris à Moscou se termine.
Landing on the plane Paris-Moscow is coming to an end.

Lom Ali continues to sing.

DISPATCHER. Monsieur Satuev Lom-Ali, passez à l'embarquement. Vous retardez le vol! Citizen Satuev Lom-Ali, you are delaying your flight, we ask you to proceed to boarding.

Airport employees surround the singer, they say something to him, but Lom-Ali, not listening to them, finishes the song.

LOM-ALI. May Allah have mercy on you and on all of us.
CURA. Lom Ali, thank you very much! I painted a picture here. I'll give it to you. Although I myself am far from my homeland, I want my thoughts, my dreams, embodied in this canvas, to be at home ...
LOM-ALI. May Allah accept your donation to me. When you return to your homeland, you will find it with me. See you at home.

Kura and Lom-Ali embrace. Lom-Ali runs off to land.

CURA. See you at home... See you at home...

The noise of an airplane taking off. People at the airport. Kura stands in the middle of the room.

A curtain.

Translation by Raisa Saidulaeva

Vainakh №10 electronic version

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