Maung Tun Thu - My Dear Maya

Sergeant

My father , Andrei Petrovich Grinyak, who served under the Grand Duke "Minister" in his youth, retired in 1791 with the rank of temporary major.

He then settled back on his estate in Saint-Bas. During this time, he married Abya Vasyevna, the daughter of a wealthy man in the region who had fallen from poverty to wealth, and they had nine children.

My brothers and sisters had all died in infancy, so it could be said that my parents had no children. However, while I was still in my mother's womb, I was enrolled as a sergeant in the Seminovsky regiment by Prince B., a major in the army, with whom we had no close relations. If my mother had given birth to a daughter at that time, my father would have had to report that the sergeant he had enrolled had died. In that case, the matter would have ended there.

The education system in our time was different from that of today. When I was five years old, I was entrusted to the care of a horseman, “Savilich.” Since Savvilich was sober and calm, my father promoted me to a teacher. When I was twelve, I learned to read and write in my own language from Savvilich.

Then my father hired a French tutor for me, named “Monsieur Yagry.” He was a tutor sent from Moscow. It was agreed that he would provide me with free wine and olive oil for the whole year. The only person who did not like his arrival was my young teacher Savelich.

In fact, Monsieur Biagiotti was a hairdresser in his own country. He then served in the Prussian army and later traveled to Russia to work as a teacher. In fact, he did not even clearly understand the meaning of the word teacher.

He is a cheerful person. However, he is not calm. He is easy-going. His biggest weakness is his promiscuity. Moreover, (to use his usual catchphrase) he is “not an enemy of the bottle.” In other words, if he has a glass of alcohol in his mouth, he will stop drinking until he is too drunk to stop.

However, in our house, where wine is usually drunk only with dinner, Monsieur Biagi is very limited.

However, he soon became familiar with Russian beverages, and not only did he overcome the difficulties he faced, but he also came to love Russian beverages more than his own country's wines.

He even came to believe that Russian alcohol was more effective in aiding digestion than other alcohols.

He and I became close almost immediately. He was responsible for teaching me French and German, as well as other necessary subjects, but I found that he was only interested in learning a little Russian from me. In any case, we were content with each other, doing our jobs.

However, fate soon separated me from him. It turned out -

In our house there was a stone-cutter named "Palatshakha" and a chubby washerman and a woman named "Akukha" who had one eye and was responsible for tending the cows.

One day, they knelt at my mother's feet and begged for forgiveness for the wrong they had done in ignorance.

They also complained that it was Monsieur Biagi who had taken advantage of their inexperience and had made them commit the crime. The mother, who was always very serious about such matters, became furious.

I immediately complained to my father. My father did not hesitate for a second and immediately sent someone to call the French teacher to take action. When he found out that the French teacher was teaching me a lesson and was not busy, my father himself came to my room.

He found the French teacher sleeping awkwardly on the bed in the room.

At that time I was doing my own work. In my room I had a large map of the world that I had ordered from Moscow for my own use.

That map had been hanging on the wall for a long time, useless. The size of the paper was large and the paper was good, so I had been looking at it for a long time.

Today, while Teacher Biaggi was sleeping, I took advantage of the opportunity to remove that large map from the wall and make a kite.

When my father came into the room, I was already gluing a piece of the map with "Cape Tate Good Hope" as a tail to the bottom of the kite.

My father gave me a quick tug on my ear as a token of appreciation for my geography practice and then passed on to the French teacher.

My father woke up the French teacher by pushing and shoving him. He also scolded him non-stop.

The French teacher tried to get up. But he couldn't. Unfortunately, my teacher was so drunk that he couldn't even stand up.

There was only one appropriate punishment for my teacher's crimes. My father grabbed the teacher by the scruff of the neck and dragged him out of the room, and that very day he threw him out of the house.

My old teacher, Savelich, was immensely happy about this. Thus my education came to an end.

From that moment on, I stopped studying anything and became a freelancer.

When time is spent with texting, time is wasted with jumping frogs with peers on the property.

In this way, I reached the age of sixteen. At that time, my life underwent a change.

One autumn day, my mother was sitting in the living room, stewing strawberries in honey. I stood by, watching the strawberries bubble up, my mouth watering, and I licked my lips frequently.

My father was sitting near the window, reading the large book "The Royal Gazette," which came to us regularly every year.

I have always been aware of the great influence this book had on my father.

Whenever I read this book, my father gets emotional. He gets angry and confused. It's when he becomes sad.

My mother, who knew my father's manners and habits almost by heart, would hide this book where my father would not find it. That's why my father would not see it for months. However, sometimes, when he did find it by mistake, he would not put it down for hours.

That day, my father, who was reading the royal chronicles, was very agitated. His shoulders were hunched over. His mouth was filled with sounds, and he was muttering.

He glanced at my mother.

"How old is your son, Petrusha?" he asked.

"What are you doing? He's already sixteen," my mother replied.

“It's good that he's sixteen,” my father said. It was time for him to join the army. My mother was so upset at the thought of being separated from me that she dropped the spoon in her hand.

Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I didn't feel the same way as my mother. I was happy when I heard what my father said. When I thought about going into the military, I imagined a life of freedom in Petersburg.

My father immediately arranged my affairs. He also set the date for my departure. One evening before my departure, he asked me to bring an inkwell and an inkpot.

He also said that he would write a letter to someone who would become his superior in the future.

“Don’t forget to write a note of gratitude and remembrance to the prince,” said the mother. “And also write that I hope that you will help and take care of my son Petrusha as much as you can.”

“What are you talking about?” my father asked, frowning. “Why should I write to the prince?”

"Do you think I'll send Petrusha to Petersburg? What will he gain by serving in Petersburg? But he'll waste it, that's all he'll learn. He'll have to carry a knapsack in a real army. He'll have to smell the gunpowder. He'll have to live like a real soldier. He won't be a man dressed in a brand-new uniform and pretending to be a gentleman. I'll have him join the security service. Now... Now, where's his passport book?"

My mother immediately took my passport book out of the box and handed it to my father with trembling hands.

My father put the book on the table in front of him and picked up a letter. I was very curious to know what he was writing.

He said he wouldn't send me to Petersburg. So where would he send me? Finally, my father finished the manuscript.

He put the letter and passport book in an envelope and sealed it from the outside. He took off his glasses and called me over.

"Rob, here's a letter. This letter is for Andrei Karlovich. He's a colleague and friend of mine. You're to go to Orenburg and serve under him, do you understand what I'm saying?"

All my hopes for the future of my life