From Sokrat Shyti
Part Thirty
Memorie.al / Writer Sokrat Shyti are the “great unknown” who, in recent years, has shown the tip of the iceberg of his literary creativity. I say this based on the small number of his published books in recent years, primarily the voluminous novel “The Phantom Night” (Tirana 2014). The novels: “BEYOND MYSTERY,” “BETWEEN TEMPTATION AND WHIRLPOOL,” “THE DIGGING OF NIGHTMARES,” “THE SHADOW OF SHAME AND DEATH,” “COLONEL KRYEDHJAK,” “DREAMS OF DESTRUCTION,” “THE TWISTS OF FATE” I, II, “SURVIVAL IN THE COW SHED,” as well as other works, all novels ranging from 350 to 550 pages, are in manuscript form awaiting publication. The dreams and initial fervor of the young novelist returning from studies abroad, full of energy and love for art and literature, were cut short early on by the savage blade of the communist dictatorship.
Who is Sokrat Shyti?
Returning from his studies at the State University of Moscow, shortly after the cessation of Albanian-Soviet relations in 1960, Sokrat Shyti worked at Radio “Diapazon” (which at that time was located on Kavaja Street), in an editorial office with his journalist friends – Vangjel Lezho and Fadil Kokomani – both later arrested and executed by the communist regime. In addition to the radio, the 21-year-old Sokrat, if we can imagine him, had passionate literary interests at that time. He wrote his first novel “Madam Doctor” and was on the verge of publication, but… alas! Shortly after the arrest of his friends, as if to fill the cup, a painter brother of his escapes abroad.
Sokrat was arrested in September 1963, and in November of that year, he and his family (mother and younger sister) were interned in a location between Ardenica and Kolonje in Lushnja. For 27 consecutive years, the family lived in a makeshift cow shed made of reeds, without windows, while Sokrat was subjected to forced labor. Throughout these 27 years, he was legally obliged to report three times a day to the local authority. He had no right to leave the place of internment, was deprived of any documentation, etc. In these conditions, among the cow shed, he gave birth to and raised children. Precisely from this event, or more accurately a very long story of persecution, he was inspired to write the book “Survival in the Cow Shed”!
Agron Tufa
Continued from the previous issue
EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK, “SURVIVAL IN THE COW SHED”
– “You would have done well to keep them suppressed until the end!” – Mother Ulë interjected.
– “But these did not obey; they broke the wall of patience and united our two hearts and thoughts into one!” – I emphasized with satisfaction, observing the worried portrait of Arqelin, who was following our conversation with great curiosity.
– “You must have had a gaze towards each other stronger than a magnet!” – Mother Ulë said in surprise. “I don’t know about your side, but over here, a fierce battle unfolded: we never imagined that my daughter would withstand our attacks!”
– “Love gave her strength, just like the Earth did to Antaeus!” – I added proudly. “Love gives you wings and courage!”
– “That’s what you young people say. As for us old folks, we call you crazy because you fly above the clouds with a parachute of dreams.”
– “Fortunately, our parachute turned out strong; it brought us down to the ground without damage!” – I further reinforced our shared joy.
– “Because you are both foolish, but especially my daughter! You were deceived into thinking you could swim across the sea!”
– “And in fact, we did! You should be pleased that our love withstood the storms of opposition! But what if the opposite had happened, dark forces suffocated our love? Would you feel liberated from the nightmare of fear? I don’t believe so. You would only escape political paralysis. But the heart of your daughter would remain forever wounded. My mother told us both: God wanted you two together, convincing the big boss of the Party in the region to find the best solution for both sides!”
– “Ana finds it easier to express herself this way, as she didn’t know what her son was plotting with my daughter behind her back…” – Mother Ulë sighed. “But if she knew, she would work a hundred times harder. We see the distant consequences of a hasty action, especially when politics comes in and brings destruction. Poor Ana, as a tormented mother, has a heart filled with pain. She knows how she endured the terrible losses of her son and daughter in their youth, and her husband at a young age! As if these horrifying calamities were not enough, another dreadful misfortune happened that plunged all three of us into the abyss!… That’s why they say: what a child does, even God won’t do to you!”
– “If a person knew what terrible misfortune fate has in store, they would do everything possible to find a way to cut its head off. In reality, no one has the ability to even roughly anticipate the twists of the future. As for the dreadful evils that come from politics, we have experienced them on our own shoulders, just as you did once. If our family situation hadn’t followed a normal course, I personally would not have allowed our silent love to lead to engagement.
It would have been unforgivable for both of us to create a miserable family, which would bring children into the world with a doomed future! For our good fortune, new conditions were created, thanks to the intervention and determination of comrade Qemal: they gave us a house in Kolonje, and soon I will be settled in education!”
– “Is employment in education fully secure, or are these just hearsay?” – Mother Ulë interrupted me anxiously.
– “If I weren’t in comrade Qemal’s office today and hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I too would be doubtful. I happened to be at his assistant’s office when fate decided to open the intermediary door…!” (And I briefly explained how he welcomed me. Then I emphasized the crucial point when he expressed his unwavering determination to work in education).
– “Today must be a significant day!” – Mother Ulë said with open delight. “It should be marked with a cross in the household book! Your mother, Ana, was right to thank God. Today we should cross ourselves with both hands and celebrate!…
…Do you see how bewildered we are?… – she pointed out to her daughter. – Today, the groom crossed the threshold of our house for the first time, and we still haven’t offered him anything…? I can be excused for being so bewildered, as I am hearing the latest news for the first time. As for you…!”
– “And just a little while before we came here, she found out,” – I interjected with a smile, as the conversation entered a calmer flow. – “Both of your mothers learned the latest news almost at the same time. But my mother heard for the first time from my own lips today that Arqelin and I love each other. Because without clarifying and clearing things up, I couldn’t take that step. Your daughter would act similarly if she weren’t bothered by three marriage proposals. The provocations might have come from hints by someone who threw the first grenade, spreading whispers that Ana’s son and your daughter seemed to have increased their covert conversations in the corners after rehearsals. Automatically, this signal set things in motion. Meanwhile, my mother, wherever she was, had no one to provoke her. The important thing is that we both showed maturity and patience. If it doesn’t bother you, could you tell me how you feel about my mother’s proposal for the engagement to take place by the beginning of spring, in March?” – I asked directly.
– “At this moment, I can’t tell you without consulting the ‘council’ of the family,” – answered Mother Ulë, glancing at her daughter, who was bringing the tray with the plates of sweets.
– “Which sweet should I start the congratulations with?” – I turned to my future mother-in-law.
– “With the sweetest one,” – she replied with a smile.
– “Well then, I’ll choose the cherry, since it’s beautiful too…” – I added humorously. – “We have the right to congratulate ourselves before you: may our engagement be as sweet as this sweet?!”
– “Since you chose each other and fought so hard to achieve victory, you deserve to enjoy the sweetness. Your engagement, being completely different from the others…”!
– “Different only because it faced so much opposition and disagreement? Nevertheless, we will follow the customs according to tradition,” – I interrupted. – “What I mean is that you will lead the way. We are the simple soldiers; we will act according to your orders. And for any uncertainties, we will seek your assistance. Allow me, Mrs. Ulë, to ask you a question?” – I added, blushing.
– “Seeing you, even without you saying it, I sensed where you were going,” – Mother Ulë replied immediately. – “You want to know if you can come here to court my daughter until the engagement day, to spend time together? Your visit today needs no promise from me. Hearing everything during our conversation was enough to build trust in your maturity…” – she emphasized with a keen look. – “You can also go to your sister’s house whenever Ana is here. But not in Kolonje!” – she insisted with a firm tone.
– “You must consider that Lushnja, being a small town, with only one main road and 2-3 establishments, offers little for entertainment. So it’s better to spend your time indoors, so you won’t be bothered by curious looks and won’t give rise to gossip. You are on the verge of the greatest event, the creation of a family, which our rightful oppositions helped establish on solid foundations. You both endured a very difficult test with patience. This convinces us that you will overcome any obstacles in your way. Therefore, you deserve our parental blessing!”
I left Arqelin’s house filled with joy and hope. Today had been so fruitful that even the most beautiful dream would feel envious, given that within a few hours, a complete cycle of kindness was fulfilled! I would have never believed that I would follow after such a twisted fate, getting tangled in the “tornado” and monstrous “tsunamis” of politics, which almost transformed me into the outcast of society! If this brutal savagery had continued at the same pace, I had no doubt that I would become a broken being, considering that its course would lead only to the abyss.
But wonderfully, something unbelievable happened, like in fairy tales. Just when hopes began to dwindle, a surprising savior appeared (a divine and earthly miracle, a perfect intertwining of desire and strength of mind), who courageously dispelled and drove away the squalls and stormy downpours, cleared the harsh weather, and set the rainbow as the celestial beacon of justice while confronting the enraged hounds: “Enough barking likes puppies!”
It seems strange to each of us how our human existence can carry within it the symbiosis of duality: sometimes presenting itself as a devoted believer and other times as an atheist?! Moreover, this significant change occurs unconsciously in the most critical moments when we confront the dark force of a terrifying opposition, which we both fear and bow to in an effort to overcome! Therefore, when “tornadoes” and “cyclones” of mental and spiritual gnawing appear, laden with electric discharges, we tremble and struggle so intensely that we lose our course, as we become entangled in the furious twists of distorted shapes, which even by imagining, appear to us as horrifying!
This frightful phenomenon urges us to speculate that our destinies are forged in the complete darkness of the Universe and wander endlessly like meteors and comets, absorbing cosmic dust. Then, pulling us with their gravitational force toward a black hole of which we do not know the origin (and perhaps we will never learn), we call this fate. To counter this fact (and not fall into the embrace of failure), an endless (and quite futile) war takes place between fatalists and realists, denying the truth that tells us our earthly life is formed by the spontaneous and entirely random intertwining of the mysterious with reality. Therefore, what we have experienced does not align with what we have imagined. The same happens with the prediction of the future. This eternal mystery plunges us into the infinite world of imagination, leading us to an all-encompassing belief that we embody in the Prophets, whom we call earthly sons of the “Kingdom” without end, of celestial space.
The denial and rejection of this life reality by politicians of all shades, in every country in the world, causes mental chaos and extreme poverty among the noisy, miserable crowds, who move like a mother’s hands in the storms of crises. As a result of this displacement, mixed races are born, and the number of human beings with mental deficiencies increases. In reality, there are all the real possibilities that, with a reasonable and rational distribution of monetary resources, these gruesome and painful phenomena, which dehumanize individuals into strange creatures, ready to commit terrifying, barbaric acts, could be curbed.
The fact that politics emerged as a social necessity and the need to orient and discipline the masses toward self-governance through laws does not negate the other side of the coin: precisely that politics quickly transformed into a ruthless tool for exploiting human races to the core. Therefore, the dividing line between politics and the crowd is always deepening and widening, heading toward ever more frightening dimensions! Thus, in all countries of the world, the same terrifyingly shocking questions are heard at the core of crime, corruption, and deception: How is it possible that a handful of people accumulate over 80% of the world’s wealth, while billions of miserable beings are horrifyingly shaped by hunger, epidemics, and are dehumanized into outcasts due to lack of survival…?!
Why do bright minds seem twisted to politicians, who show dismissive attitudes towards them, even in many cases, hostile ones?! What would our globe (where conscious beings live) look like if the main politicians of every country nurtured development with dedication and daily commitment, not allowing the horrific social inequality to be planted and grow, when there are truly all the possibilities to create the most normal life symbiosis?! What terrible substance is produced in a politician’s brain that clouds their thoughts and transforms them into loathed beings for the citizens who elected them with their votes?!
I was so burdened with imaginative questions that I didn’t notice the presence of a charming boy, my age, which had stood there waiting for me to approach. He was looking at me with a mixture of amazement and curiosity, possibly wondering to himself what had caused my agitation.
I was stunned when my eyes locked onto his gaze, as the mirage transformed into a true image (though I could hardly believe it): the charming boy before me was my classmate from the high school in Shkodra, Franc Pali!
– “Well, I was born and raised in this city, but what about you?!” – I asked curiously and quite concerned.
– “I stayed long enough in Shkodra,” – he replied, – “I needed a change of climate, and they brought me here, either as an exile or an interned person…” – Franci said after we embraced.
– “But did you come here for work?”
– “For permanent service,” – I replied.
– “So, they transferred you?!” – He added uneasily.
– “If I’m not mistaken, you were a journalist at the Radio? When we learned this among your classmates, we were happy that you got the chance to showcase your talent in literature. In fact, we all read your story ‘Teto Maga’ in the magazine ‘Nëntori,’ but in the end, we were left surprised as to why the rest wasn’t published?!”
– “What matters is that you understood there should be a second part that is not seeing the light of day…?! – I added, feeling disheartened. – Such mix-ups happen…”
“Surely we sensed immediately that something was wrong, and our first suspicion led us to doubt that maybe you had a conflict with the editor-in-chief. And he took out his anger by publishing only half of your story…”
– “Accurate speculation. Where are you headed, considering that apart from the Institute of Agricultural Research, there are no other buildings?”
– “I’m going to my settlement in Plug,” – Franci said.
– “At first, they assigned me to Grabjan, but with the intervention of a well-connected acquaintance, they changed the decision to Plug, which is considered a neighborhood of Lushnja, and ‘the privileged’ among the declassed have gathered there!”
– “You’re right; you will move around Albania?” – I asked him.
– “Except for the border towns,” – Franci replied. – “I only go to Shkodër once a month, that’s the limit they set. If I were in Grabjan, I wouldn’t have the privilege of moving around because there is a roll call every evening. A friend of mine quickly intertwined the request for my proximity with my ability to play the trombone. So, on occasion, they activate me with the amateur orchestra of the city’s House of Culture.”
– “How do you see it, do we resemble each other in appearance?” – I asked, aiming to clarify a mix-up.
– “Why this interest?” Franci became curious.
– “Because one day, a friend of yours jumped on me with a passionate longing and covered me with kisses, repeating, ‘Where have you been, Franc Pali, that we thought you disappeared?!’ I tried to convince her that I am not Franc, but she didn’t believe me. Only my dialect eventually convinced her.”
– “I can guess who it was,” – Franci said after a moment.
– “But as long as she embraced you affectionately, it means we resemble each other. Now let me leave, as it’s getting dark, and the lonely road gathers more shadows without passersby. Until we meet again!” – he added, hugging me.
– “Let me give you a piece of social advice; if we happen to run into each other face to face in the square or on the main street of the city, we should act like strangers. It’s a necessity that we must fulfill on both sides. Best wishes!” – And he left with quick steps! /Memorie.al
Continued in the next issue
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