her soul for the first time, and there was nothing good in her. The radiogram, clicking, fell silent. Bagila was about to turn the record over, but Malika shook her head to stop her. “We’d better lie down. They’ll probably connect with Karatai any second now.” “Lika…” Bagila playfully twirled the record on her finger. “Yes?” Malika opened her eyes wide, big as those of a camel. “These Pop chirpings don’t mesh well with your soul. Personally, I think Chopin’s ballads are more suitable for you.” Malika took these words surprisingly seriously. “I knew you were smart,” she said with an incomprehensible intonation. “Maybe, Chopin can do… I don’t know what to listen to and what not to, what to read and what not to read. I was lucky, but not lucky enough to choose between Piekha and Chopin. The phone rang loudly… “Oh, it’s your dad!” Malika exclaimed and rushed into the corridor. A whole month passed since Karatai’s arrival in Almaty, and finally Sargel was invited by the rector. “Hello, Sargel Saynovich!” The rector stood up, moved towards, extended his hand for a greeting. “Please, sit down!” Sargel did not know the exact reason for this unexpected call, and therefore answered questions briefly and warily. The rector rarely invited him to his place. “How is your work?” “Not bad,” Sargel managed to pull off something that resembled a smile. “We’re working hard.” “How is your relationship with the department?” He was taken aback, not expecting that such a question could be asked directly, and even by the rector. Sargel had been waiting for this moment for a long time, hoping that someday he would get a chance to explain to the rector what kind of people, his colleagues in the department, the ones that had “dug a hole for him,” are. But in a matter of seconds, it was difficult to gather the thoughts together, and he thought, is it necessary to open up to the rector? Maybe, him asking that question, was just a coincidence… “It’s different for everyone… The work is in progress,” Sargel replied, hoping he was being ambiguous. “Thank you for being interested in my life. I often only see you on the move, but I never managed to talk to you…” “Yes, unfortunately, that’s the way it is… There is no time for everything, we are slaves of time,” the rector laughed. “If
Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153