The path of Abay

How unexpectedly different things rhyme with each other! It is easy to verify this: you just need to be attentive to the seeming trifles of our lives.

What, it would seem, is the connection between today's acceleration of the camp on pure ponds and a relatively recent squabble, started by Patriarch Kirill, who has already been provided with a place in history as a model of not only mind and piety, but also disrevant? This refers to a noisy story with mysterious dust, which destroyed the unique library of the wisest and educated patriarchs. I remember how the people had fun, reading a list of ruined rarities. Especially for some reason, the book of the Soviet Kazakh classic Mukhtar Auezov called the "Way of Abay" seventy of some year of the publication. Is this not a rarity, in comparison with which there is an edition of Dead Souls with an autograph of the author - a real bullshit?

The story quickly forgotten under the onslaught of other events, which recently poured and continue to pour into us with a Rabelazian scope.

Of course, I remembered about the “Way of Abay” immediately, as I found out that a spontaneous camp of the protest public, a camp, received the popular name “Occupy Abay”, had appeared near a completely different Abay.

The last time I was there yesterday. He left about midnight. The mood was alarming, because everyone already knew about the historical decision of the Basmanny court. But familiar activists told me that there is an agreement, according to which the camp could calmly exist until noon. “By this time we will most likely leave,” they said. “Ourselves.” When I left, many guests had already spread their sleeping bags and were about to get stuck for the night.

Arriving home, I composed in three or four minutes and published a joking lullaby on Facebook. Here it is:

*Sleep, children, Bai-Bai.

Grandfather Abay is with you.

If riot police come suddenly,

He will drive riot police.

He is stronger than all in the world.

Sleep sweetly, sleep, children,

Under the guitar trin and the bar.

There will be a new day tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be May again.

Sleep, children, Bai-Bay.*

But everything turned out as always. The vile and petty power violated its own promise and in a corporate Hitler style treacherously attacked the camp at dawn. No, grandfather Abai did not help. Even he did not help. I was mistaken.

What they want to achieve is completely incomprehensible. After all, the experience of recent times with all the clarity shows that all their waving with arms, legs and batons only increase the scale of the protest movement. What if it were not for the barbaric acceleration and “vintage” on the 6-7th day, if it were not for the game imposed by power in the auto-zaki robbers, there would not have been so many people on the “control walk” on the last Sunday. And then what will happen!

After acceleration on pure ponds, other "ponds" and other Abai will inevitably arise. And no linden "indignant locals", and no less linden bassing courts will do anything with this. Nobody will do anything with people convinced of their innocence, with people who have "hooked" to freedom. Is it still incomprehensible to them? Sorry.

I went to Abai all these days and I saw everything with my own eyes. I testify: it was cleaner and calmer there than in all other sections of the boulevard. As people urinated under the trees and trampled the grass, I have never seen, although I spent quite a lot of time there. But like two boys with a bucket and rags, pounding on the Abai monument, who became a genius of place in those days, thoroughly, they can even say, lovingly washed him from bird poop, saw.

I saw a group of people carefully listened to a lecture on bird singing. I saw how boys and girls in hygienic rubber gloves treated everyone with sandwiches and applied buckwheat porridge in plastic plates. I saw girls with brooms and scoops collected garbage. I saw peacefully discussing left, right and middle. I saw guys with the bandages of combatants on the sleeves, politely, but decisively maintaining order. I saw how a self -organizing social structure arose right before our eyes.

And most importantly, what I saw there is an incredible concentration of meaningful physiognomy.

"Boarseer", say? You yourself are a homeless person.

The guys, of course, will gather in another place. And all, of course, will continue. Ahead is the whole summer. And a whole life ahead.

And the wise and free -loving friend of the steppes of Abai, due to bizarre circumstances, became an honorary Muscovite these days and an unexpected symbol of freedom, will not remain in its place. The monument will remain, but he himself will travel along with other free Muscovites around the native city and, along with them, to affirm his irremovable right to freedom. This is the glorious path of Abay.