Alexander Chobanyan

THERE’S NO
GOING BACK FOR
ME!

An essay on my memories, or lack thereof

Fairly recently, I have read Joan Didion’s fantastic essay “Goodbye to
all that” where she detailed her arrival and stay in New York city. What
surprised me the most about Didion’s work was the amount of details she
remembered from her time in NY despite the fact that those days were
long gone at the time of writing. And that brought me back to a thought I
have quite often “I don’t really have vivid memories.” Sure, I do have some
snippets here and there, but most of them involve simple facts (at least I
think so) of what happened, rather than my thoughts and feelings.
For instance, I remember that I spilled water
from my newly bought Sponge Bob bottle on
my very first day of school, and the teacher
had to mop it all up while I awkwardly stood,
looking at the puddle that spilled from my
bottle. I don’t remember anything else from
that day, despite it being well, my first day of
school, but I have to say, the incident with the
bottle correctly set the tone for days and years to come. This seems to be
my current earliest memory.
The previous one was about when I was two years old, fell into a pond
during a picnic and was so chill while floating and spitting water that my
parents decided that they definitely should send me to swimming classes,
(a thing that lasted like 10 years). I used to faintly remember the feeling of
falling into a pond, but I don’t now, so I only faintly remember the fact that
I used to faintly remember a thing I probably wouldn’t remember at all if
my parents didn’t tell me about it so much.

The previous one was about when I was two years old, fell into a pond
during a picnic and was so chill while floating and spitting water that my
parents decided that they definitely should send me to swimming classes,
(a thing that lasted like 10 years). I used to faintly remember the feeling of
falling into a pond, but I don’t now, so I only faintly remember the fact that
I used to faintly remember a thing I probably wouldn’t remember at all if
my parents didn’t tell me about it so much.
My lack of memory stalks me in my day to day life too. Recently, a guy
came up to me and said hi, and I couldn’t remember him. He said we
participated in the same workshop and worked together for a month or
two, I think that was less than 2 years ago. There is a guy who I met a lot but
could never remember his name,so that became an inside joke between
us and he never told me. As far as I’m concerned he doesn’t have a name.
I don’t know where my lack of memory comes from. I spend too much time
on the Internet consuming bite sized information and cramming useless
trivia into my brain. I sleep too little and am always tired, I don’t even
remember times I was completely and utterly fresh. I might be one of the
people who will develop dementia early (the symptoms add up) which is
one of the reasons I want to die young. But mostly my lack of memory just
makes me sad. If people are right and memories are truly all we have, then
I have nothing. I am a person with no stories to tell, nothing to hold inside
to warm myself, when things get rough, I am desperately holding onto the
fingertips of happiness I had in the past while watching as it slowly slips
away from me.
On one hand, it might be beneficial since I can’t live in the past, on the
other, I still spend most of my time dreaming about my future, which
seems, at the same time, worse than a horror movie and very exciting. I
kind of consider that I haven’t started consciously existing until a couple of
months ago. I wonder if my assumed beginning of existence will go further
and further forward as I grow older.
A boy who lost his childhood to make ours full of magic and love.

Elen Asatryan

The Talking Silence

It was You,
it was me,
in the enchanting night,
under the stars, dreams,
under the moonlight,
under the silence,
You were more than just a heartbeat
in a world
that forgets to love,
You were a drawer
who drew memories in my mind,
You painted my heart with different colors,
The worst is today,
because we’re not together,
You left me
when You needed to stay,
You hurt me so badly,
that pain
cut my hands,
the hands which hugged you a last time,
but don’t forget my heart
hugs You everywhere,
tonight
the silence is talking,
it reminds me of You,
about the feelings,
which I’m trying to ignore.

Do you still remember

Do you still remember the space
between our breaths,
when the air slipped away,
and we stayed lifeless,
for a little while.
When the moon,
under our deep space,
fall on our feet.
When the stars
came down on our hands.
When the planet called “love”
ran down and sat next to us.
When the paper
came down with dancing,
“Sometimes a home can be another person”.

Sevan

My aged witness, Sevan has lain
On powerful mountains’ slope,
You have given life to our hungry hearts,
And you’re thirsty and tired now,
And you’re hungry and tired now…..
Dream Sevan, thirsty my old friend Sevan,
The king of high seas’,
Wait, breath deeply, Sevan
I am coming to you,
Wait, breath calmly, Sevan
I am near to you….
Lake Sevan is screaming like a newborn baby,
Sevan is crying, but….. no tears,
You change your old road,
Drunk with your distant vision,
My proud Sevan, brave.
Dream Sevan, thirsty my Sevan,
The king of high seas’,
Wait, breath deeply, Sevan
I am coming to you,
Wait, breath calmly, Sevan
I am ahead of you….

Nare Voskanyan

IF ONLY I HAVE
THE CHANCE
TO RESTORE
EVERYTHING

Something unexpected happened a month ago. We understand the worth
of something most when we lose it, but we didn’t expect that one day we
will miss meetings, parties, even the opportunity to share a cup of coffee
with your work partner. It changed everything in our life and it won’t be the
same in the near future.

In daily life people are having a million losses. Loss of freedom, loss of
going out, loss of hope, loss of future, loss of breath, loss of life. We can’t
go out, feel the warmth of the sun, listen to the sound of birds. Our hands
are tied.
Now all people are equal; it doesn’t matter you rich or poor, if you are
brave or fearful, if you are clever or stupid. People all over the world are
suffering and sharing each other’s feelings. We understand each other
because now we are in the same situation. There Is hope that people will
understand how important it is every morning when you open your eyes.
People will understand that there are more important problems in this life.
We are fighting, killing each other, and now the virus is killing us.
We have to understand that humans must help each other. It doesn’t
matter what nation you are. You must be grateful every day for your life.
I am sorry. I am apologizing as a human. They don’t understand how big
this problem is. They don’t recognize that because of their ignorance
innocent people , doctors, and even animals are suffering. This is the
revenge from nature to people for what they do. But good people aren’t
guilty.
Maybe this all will end one day but the fear will stay. Say what you are
keeping secret. Say to your crush that you love her or say how important
she is to you. Don’t argue with people who are important to you, care
about them. Love and appreciate every moment spent with them. This
could be the last chance to correct your mistakes, apologize and make the
right decisions. Maybe this is the end.

Alexandra Hunanyan

EMOTIONAL
DISASTER

It was an ordinary June day, we went to the pool as usual and dropped
Grandma off at the store. She needed milk. I didn’t have any idea that
something could ever go wrong.

We were interrupted by a sudden call.
My dad went away for a few seconds and
then said he‘ll come back. We, then, went home, because my mom said
that something happened to my granny. One thought crossed my mind.
Was she dying? No, no, no.
I remember feeling nauseous, I felt like throwing up the club sandwich. I
felt the chloride solution in the pool being mixed with the wind. I didn‘t
feel like walking home, with my bag full of wet towels and the swimming
fun folded carefully and put there by my mother.
I entered our apartment and my aunt was in there for some reason. She
was smoking, anxiously waiting for the news that we all regret predicting.
Finally my mom got the phone call, me and my brother were sitting in our
armchairs while my aunt brought glasses of water to us. Why? I was soon
about to find out.
I have been to my grandmother‘s house after that multiple times. She
always had pills and googly big glasses on her nightstand.
I regret a lot of things, but the fact that she couldn‘t walk me down the
aisle, the fact that she didn‘t see me grow, is devastating.
There was this tall mirror in the hallway of our old apartment. I passed it
everyday, thinking that she might see me from heaven growing up. It was
hung really high, so I couldn’t see myself in it like my mom could. I waited

I have other things that symbolized my grandma, other than the mirror. I
had her high heels that she wore to her prom, I promised that I would wear
it to mine, but it got canceled. I also have the brightest star I could find in
the sky that was visible from my bed every night I went to sleep. I told it
about my victory in the French Olympiad, because my granny was a French
professor in the high school I am about to go to this year.
Everyday I will go to this school, I will be thinking about her and how proud
I am to be a granddaughter of such a wonderful woman.