The Woe from Love

‘It was not a comedy, dear,’ said Nina looking at her friend. ‘How could he call that a comedy?! There is a tragedy of a lonely man who seeks for understanding but has never been understood. Never cherished by his better half. Poor Chatsky! There is no “Woe from Wit” at all. There is the woe from love!”
‘Love! Love! Can you, women, talk about anything but love? Why are you so crazy about it? How many times should I hear that nonsense, Nina? Could you, please, tell me that?’ said Marat angrily without looking at her. It was not for him to talk about Love. For him it was just no more than a chemical process, a strange combination of scents and undiscovered reagents.
If he were a romantic person he would try to invent the formula of this mysterious feeling, but he was a realist. And his reality was the devotion to scientific work. Science was his only passion and almost obsession. He honored Nikola Tesla whose favorite phrase was “Loneliness is the best friend for a real scientist. Tesla would not discover the alternating current if he spent his time on love affair. ”
There was no place for love in his heart and women in love always seemed stupid to him, especially poets and amateur actresses dreaming of leading parts in his life. He felt like a married man but his real wife was genetics. There was also no time for this useless conversation, because he was going to Germany in two days and his purpose was to become a great scientist. Greater than Vavilov and his successors. He has just won a Master scholarship in Dresden and his suitcases are still waiting for him at the door. There is no time to give in, he said to himself, and stay together with that crazy poetess whose verses always seemed irrational to him. No, he won’t even let her see him off when the morning comes; he won’t remember her at all! He will meet a lot of famous people in Germany and will be famous one day. He shouldn’t pay attention to her. She will always remain a stupid dreamer like her favorite writer Griboedov obsessed with his idea to create the second East India Company in this God forsaken Russia… There will never be any progress here and the problems will stay the same. It will always be the country of fools and bad roads. Germany will give everything he could ever dream of…
‘Did I say something wrong?’ she asked trying to break the silence. ‘I can’t bare that serious look of yours. Oh, tell me, what is happening now?”
‘Nothing, I’m just leaving tomorrow morning and will never be back to this damn city and this damn theater of yours! I hate everything here: these dirty parks, ugly buildings around me and your favorite Griboedov! He was just a nonentity!’
‘How dare you tell this about him? He was a great poet and a great patriot of Russia, and he really loved his country. He played a great role in our victory over Persia. I think, every Russian should revere his memory. ”
‘Stupid dreamer! Do you remember the reward for his patriotism? The body in a rubbish-heap, the head on a wood strip… It was nonsense to die like this! I’m pretty sure there are no such idiots in Germany! Two crazy fools! You would be a good couple if you had met in the past! Get out of my way! ’ said the angry young man trying to withdraw her hand.
How ugly she seemed to him now with these tears rolling down her face! He couldn’t bear crying women, but still he couldn’t explain to himself why he hated her so much. She was not worse than other ladies he knew and she was pretty enough to be loved. If not for Germany, perhaps, he would date her someday. But now her fate was to stay in this unpleasant town, and his fate was different from hers. He knew he would be one of the greatest scientists of the century if he had a chance to stay in Germany, so that he should have a German fianc;; an unpleasant middle-aged woman of fortune, and no real happiness for himself…
But Nina’s love still seemed nonsense to him, so he had nothing to lose. For him Germany was the best place to go and Nina was just a part of his past. He would meet a million of writers like this and would be the main character of their plays and their eternal apple of discord.
No, she is not the woman of his life. There is no need even to look at her and her opinion is not important now. Yet, why does not she cry anymore? What is the reason of her deadly silence?
When he turned his head, there was nobody next to him. The unfortunate girl was gone. He was all alone now in this empty park, standing in front of Pushkin monument whose eyes were looking stonily at him. Suddenly, he felt lonely and remorseful. Nina has always been a good friend of him and tried to share his ideas about science that seemed nonsense to other people. Then it dawned on him that his fate and all his projects could bear similarity to those of Griboedov. Both of them were dreamers eager to change the world and the price for their aspiration seemed too high. Griboedov was bereft of life and his wonderful Nina, and he, Marat, was deprived of Nina now. Only for her he could seem Marat-khan, the conqueror of the World, and for Germany he was one among millions of Russians seeking for better Future. Yes, he should find her as soon as possible and tell her how sorry he was…
Suddenly, he heard the telephone call. It was his mother, felt Marat, and she worried about him. She worked so much in her life to save towards children’s education. She was so happy then he was chosen to go to Germany. So he couldn’t betray her and beguile all her hopes. If he stayed here and marry a Christian it would break her loving heart.
How could he be a good son after that?! No, it would kill her right away. These were the thoughts of this miserable traitor who could easily sacrifice his love for the sake of the golden calf. He didn’t know how great his disappointment would be after arrival to Goethe’s motherland. There would not be any place for him, no good job and no real friends in this leading industrialized country. He would be lost and forgotten like the character of the homonymic song by Peter Nalitch. He would never achieve his goals there and would come back to his hateful hometown. But he would never find Nina there. He would never be happy and forgiven and she would not be there for him in his grief. She would escape from the country of her disappointment and find the man of her dreams. But it would be a different story. And for Marat it would be another woe from Love. God help him in his lonely road…