Ajde Jano

The secret


The mild greyish blue of his eyes was gently framed by warm wrinkles while his gaze flattered the young man sitting beside his daybed.

"Did I ever tell you about the most determining night in my life, son?"
His voice was faint but clear and sonorous.

A commemorative smile rose in his old yet ageless face. Patiently the young man remained silent.

"It was late spring, a thousand years ago", the ancient started to narrate, closing his eyes as if to find his inner motion picture. "Winter has been hard, and the work in the fields tough. Corn and crop have been finally sowed. It was time to catch some breath, the village people put on a celebration in the evening of a sunny day. Everybody was keen to overcome the previous rough trot, old and young urged to frolic, to make merry, to revel."

The old man breathed silently, as time paced slowly in the sun-lit room.

"Preparations were made in every family, every cottage. Apple crumbles were baked the size of cartwheels, delicacies were composed. Men's shirts were thoroughly washed and ironed, suits were brushed and darned, the women enhanced their best dresses with ornate laces. The children got their hair cut. All was set up on the hill south of the village, tables, benches, even a wooden dancing floor had been timbered and scoured to shining appearance. Families opened up their hardly saved wine stocks, and the village dean donated his porkiest ox."

As the white-haired narrator paused, the young one gently caressed his age-sculptured hand. The old men's silver-filamented full beard slowly followed his respiration-evoked chest movement.

"As the celebration started in the late afternoon, the mood was playful, hilarious even. The kids hopscotched across the scene, people laughed and told stories, easygoing ones, funny and some dirty ones, too. It was eaten what the tables gave, the grill master was sweating, the bottles wandered from hand to hand. Everybody was friend to each other. Adolescents were flirting, adults were eye-teasing, and as a matter of fact, even the elderlies exchanged some romance. When the sun went down, the woodpile on top of the hill was enlightened. The village's music ensemble started to play their instruments, brass and upright bass and fiddle and squeezebox. At first, the brave ones asked the maids, but the loose mood had done some good to relax everybody, and soon the dancing floor was full of waltzing, polkaing twosomes, not necessarily married couples."

"The night was mild, and people were flushed with wine and heated by dancing. Gradually, kids turned sleepy, were brought home or fell asleep in their mother's or father's arms. Silver agers slowly wavered to their cottages. The young fellows gathered around the fire, and so did I. I was unaccompanied, but I had danced with many of the village's women, laughed with them, drank toasts on much and many, shared stories and fairy tales, absorbed the unique spirit which no one could remember having felt before. My body was warmed by wine and dancing, I memorize my linnen shirt slightly sweaty with sleeves rolled up. Now, many young maid's heads rested on their companions' shoulders, while they were lucky to feel as noble knights holding their respective lady tightly." With a smile, the old man added: "Surely, not all of their minds were completely noble."

"She was new to the village, I didn't remember to have her seen before. All of a sudden she was there, obviously unchaperoned. Her body was slightly swaying to the foreign sounds which the music had imperceptibly turned into. The hand drums with a little more urge, the fiddle yearning, playing unknown melodies. There were no other noises, conversations had become silent. I was so struck by her presence!"

The senior's eyes seemed to shine, as he chronicled. He appeared energized, his body straightened.

"Son, the situation was mystery at once! Her glowing gaze! As if you would dive into the deep dark sky. Lost in eternity, but simultaneously swathed into mental suspension. I couldn't move, and I couldn't turn my eyes away from her. I was puzzled, I couldn't focus on her exactly, again and again she would become blurred. The fire sparks and flames danced into the dark firmament, comforting and hypnotizing and reviving. She had her long auburn hair wrapped by a blood-red scarf, her drop earrings reflected the fire's golden shine."

"She wore a gypsy dress, and I don't think she wore anything else. Her sun-bronzed arms were bare naked, and so were her ankles and her feet. She seemed to float, as she slowly approached me, her waist gently oscillating with every step. An elaborate golden anklet was softly jingling. I'm sure, everybody was as mesmerized as me, men and women. When she was close, I stood tall and in silence we took each other's hands. There was no meaning in time and space, just sparkling intensity, and I noticed the green subtone in her iris and the laughing wrinkles around. Our bodies started to move, subtly at first, increasingly then. There was this ancient melody, this folk song our ancestors could have danced to for ages. My feet would dance by their own as I held her. We literally hovered over the grass, sank into the deepest interior of each other, got detached from the world. Time elapsed without any consequence."

Softly the old man began to hum an odd yet familiar chant: "Hmm-hm-hmm-hmmmm, hmm-hm-hmm-hmmmm, hmm-hm-hmmmm-hm-hmmmmm....". The sound was muted, and all the same so vibrant. The dust grains appeared to seize the melody while they sparkled through the quiescent air.

"It was already beginning of the dawn, when I lead her to my little cottage. We made love so sensual, so unstudied, so elemental, so intense. It was two becoming one. Son, I had never declared myself a love lion, and I've had nightly companioned some women before. It didn't matter in this very night, and it wasn't any issue from this day on. When I awoke the next day, she was gone, like a gypsy dove she disappeared unseen. Nobody would have had witnessed the slightest thing. I only believed to still have her fading scent in my memory. There was a rupture in my breast. I sold the house and gave away what little I had. I wandered the inhabited world, and I went to places no human eye had seen before. I learned the mysteries of life. One year later, I sensed a hunch in my heart and returned to the rural village I had come from. That year's spring celebration was less exuberant, and I just enjoyed the community spirit, the food and the wine."

He softly pressed his fellow's hand.

"Long after midnight she was there again. I wouldn't die, of course not. I was filled with blessedness, and we danced, we danced in felicity as if just the two of us would be left in paradise. She didn't leave this time. We went through life aside and hand in hand thenceforth. We both were no children of sadness, and there were people, we had special friendships with. And yes, there were hard times and better ones. This is life, and life is unpredictable and neither well-meaning nor malicious. It's just life. You create things, you get things, you give things, you lose things. There's luck, and there's sorrow."

He raised his head and fixed the young one's eye: "If you found love, son, hold it tight. Guard it carefully, guarantee support, give freedom, be delighted by the other one's progress. Keep your mind light, but don't gamble light-minded. Harbor your love."



* Nigel Kennedy & Kroke: "Ajde Jano" at full volume