Alyosha's fairy tales: Dudochka

2024 Author: Seth Attwood | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-16 15:55

Previous Tales: Shop, Bonfire

When Alyosha approached his grandfather's house, he was sitting on the heap and making something with a boot knife, which, as usual, he always carried with him behind the bootleg. Maybe that's why it was called "boot". Or maybe the name of the knife comes from the fact that they wear it near the feet. On a belt or in a boot. He is always at hand when you need it. Maybe it will save life when, or maybe it will just come in handy on the farm. The knife can be used in different ways. Only not a kind person thinks of him as a weapon. But a creator, a woodworker, for example, can carve something, create beauty. The hostess cook food, feed the children. Well, a healer or a warrior sometimes saves life with a knife. Each in its own way only. One word is not in the knife, but in the person.

The knife was small. By the way, my grandfather had a belt knife on his belt. It was very handsome with a birch bark handle, but the grandfather never used it for some reason. Maybe he felt sorry for him, or maybe there was some other, more compelling reason Alyosha did not know then.

Looking closer, the boy saw what his grandfather was making. It was a pipe. It was made from ordinary reeds, in haste. In Russia, these used to be called nozzles, zhaleiki, breathers. What varieties were not made from reeds, reeds, angelica and even birch bark. A rare shepherd did without a pipe. About buffoons, and wanderers-guslars, I generally keep quiet. I don’t know why, out of boredom or for some other reason, people made them. Yes, just played on them all and sundry. And it seems like they were not trained in musical notation, but they played. Wonders. Maybe the Soul itself was leading and singing. And the body was already repeating after her.

Meanwhile, the grandfather raised the pipe to his lips and began to play. Some plaintive melody poured out. Maybe because of that, they said: "Pity is crying." Grandfather played very beautifully. And then it seemed to Alyosha that the space around him was filled with something else besides sound. As if it was not just the sound of a pipe, but as if something covered this space and filled it with something else. He could not understand how. Before his eyes, or maybe not his eyes, then he did not understand, some images floated. Some sad memories suddenly flooded over him. As if a wave of memories washed over him from head to toe. He remembered how, when fishing with his father, he accidentally stepped on a frog and crushed it with his boot. It is not clear why, just now he remembered this. Then, he also lamented and reproached himself for it. But now, he felt so sorry for her, as if it had just happened. His soul seemed to shrink at that moment. It seemed that time itself had turned back and he was experiencing the same feelings now as then. Somewhere in the depths of himself, he felt heaviness and deep sadness. He drooped all over, and tears welled up in the boy's eyes. He sniffed like a child. At the same time, he saw it all, as if from the outside. As if not with my own eyes, but with the eyes of someone else who was present then nearby. The image was so vivid that it seemed he could come up and take his shoulder. But then the grandfather stopped playing. This vivid image seemed to dissolve into thin air, like a mirage. Only Alyosha remained, with tears rolling down his eyes.

The grandfather looked at him, smiled slyly, and his eyes lit up, somehow boyishly mischievous. He took a breath and played again. This time, he played some kind of funny folk song. Alyosha had already heard it before, but he could not remember the words. It seems like the Cossacks sang at some fair. On Alyosha's face, a smile ran by itself. Sparkling fog covered the space around him. Little fireflies seemed to surround him. As much as there was sound, this fog seemed to be so much. In the chest, from these sparks, it was as if a light had flashed. Which soon turned into a flame and this flame could not be stopped. The fever grew stronger and seemed to be torn from the chest. As if the fire that was inside wanted to merge with the sparks that were around. Without realizing it, he began to move. Not that he didn't want to. It seemed that he could stop whenever he wanted, but the body itself was already dancing to the beat of the music, and these movements were so natural that I didn't want to stop them. Then, he simply decided to let go of the body, and it began to make itself such that Alyosha had never studied, and from that he did not know that he could do that.

He was seized by an incredible feeling of Inspiration, as if he really was in the Soul itself. It was so Joyful, fun and easy. He began to whistle to the beat and from his chest, as if by itself, a song was bursting, the words of which he did not know. The body was on its own, but Alyosha was not in it. There was an incredible ease of movement, and at the same time, this movement was filled with incredible strength. It seemed to him that now he could easily jump onto the house. There was no fatigue and he doubted that he could control him. But miracles, it remained obedient to him. It just moved to the rhythm of the music, but it didn't want to stop anymore. Instead of his body, now it seemed to him that he felt all the space around and everything that was in it. As if he was not a boy at all, but a hero and already occupied all the space that shone around him. If some neighbor boy shot him with a slingshot, he could calmly see a stone flying at him and catch it. It is not clear from where, but he knew it for sure. Now, he was sure that nothing and no one would stop him. It was a feeling of boundless self-confidence.

It is not known how much more he would have danced if his grandfather had not stopped. Little by little the boy stopped too. The sparkling fog dissipated. But there was a feeling that some kind of iris remained around him. It shimmered like a soap bubble in the sun. Barely catching their breath, he and his grandfather laughed merrily, looking at each other.

- And before that, Alekha, the whole world danced to our tune !! - shouted the grandfather.

- But how can you play so well ?! And you can't even stop your legs!”The angry boy shouted in response.

- Yes, just everything! I play with all my heart! - the grandfather laughed. Do you like my pipe?

- I wouldn’t like it! Played and the sadness away! - answered the boy.

- So, in the old days they said: "You will play and your soul will curl up, and then it will unfold!" A lot of wisdom is in store in Russia. Probably more than in the rest of the world. Look for yourself, your legs started to dance by themselves. Why is this so?

“I don’t know myself. If they wanted it, Alyosha scratched his head.

- Legs then? - the grandfather narrowed his eyes.

- I do not know. No, definitely not legs!

- Feet, what did it feel happy? - the grandfather smiled slyly.

- Inside somewhere!

- Exactly! At first, the soul became happy. The fire flared up in her, and then the light poured out of you into the world. As if some familiar strings have touched you. That I always knew, but that no one ever told. You merged with the music. The soul began to soar. And the Body has already gone where the Soul itself has gone. So then, Alyoshka. The Soul feels everything better than the Body. Brighter, fuller or something. And she absorbs everything that she feels, like a sponge. All indiscriminately. Here was a man walking by, he was in a bad mood, he just glanced at you, and your mood also fell. A hard look is said about such. And the other one smiled at you and for some reason you smile back at him. And it became easy for both. Soul talked. Previously, people did not live as densely as they do now. Maybe because the breadth of their Soul was more and more powerful. “The Soul of the Russian person is wide - like Mother Russia itself” - so they said. Or they simply said: "A Man of a Wide Soul". Such a person can give the last thing in order to help someone. Because he does not live in the Body, but in the Soul. And the body is like a shirt for him. Does the shirt repeat your movement behind your body? So body by soul. Movement from the heart always goes. For this, we have been given arms and legs to embody the impulses of the soul in the dense world. Previously, everyone in Russia lived with a soul, and now more and more with a body. Because of that, he can be so afraid of losing him. And it also happened that in a neighboring village some kind of misfortune happened to a relative, and a person many miles away did not find a place for himself. She feels everything. There are many words in the Russian language that relate to the feelings of the soul. You can search for yourself, if you are not too lazy. Not in all languages, from what that words are, by the way.

The soul accepts what and preserves. Because of this, the memory is not formed in the head, as they now understand, but in the Soul itself. Well, of course, rash words and taunts can hurt the Soul. That is why we have the word Curse. Can they pierce the Soul? And she, where it hurts or hurts, no longer goes. Maybe that's why the grandmothers-sorcerers stuck needles in the linen. The body does not seem to feel, but the Soul, like it or not, knows.

In a word, you have to listen to it. Just listen. Well, of course, to hear. And for this it is necessary that the Body and the Head do not interfere. You have to ask yourself: “What do I feel” ?! And she will speak to you herself. And you know, listen to yourself, but don't interrupt. Just everything!

But before, Alyosha, Plyas, he was not easy in Russia. They also took the pain out of the body after labor. It hurts the body where the tension is. But there is no tension and the pain goes away. They even put the sick on their feet. And the soldiers were taught the intricacies of military science. Well, different ceremonies were performed in a dance. For example, Round Dance. Why is he being led by the hand in a circle? The sun is ours as our ancestors called? Young Yarilo, well, the old Khors was called. Here comes Khors (Sun), Waters (Drive). A lot of things are hidden in our native culture. It is deeply our wisdom and there are no unnecessary little things in it!

And my grandfather gave that pipe to Alyosha then. Let him play to his health, but to the joy of others. A tool in hand is always more useful than on a dusty shelf. And I don’t feel sorry for anything for a loved one. And the hands themselves will remember what and how, if the Soul itself is already reaching for it.