Betcharatz

longed inebriation, Milosh would pull out into the secluded recesses
of reed growth on the canal, cast the hook and plumb in repentant
purging fishing ritual. Was it the fish he was after or an inarticulate
tune on the verge of being he was trying to capture in the silent flashes
of meditation? Watery spirit would strum in ripples around the boat
and invoke thoughts of eternity, god and death. after a long barrage
of self-ridiculing and self-questioning he would make up his mind to
stop the folly. It was customary for people mired in the sticky depths
of sin to go to the church and take a public oath that they would not
transgress into another mischief either for a sworn time or for the rest
of their lives. after a long daily rest, Milosh would go to the church to
take the oath which he never broke, regardless of the length the prom-
ised decent behaviour. after the oath repentant souls would assume an
aura of demi-sainthood and swarming around them across the village
respectful whispers would label them tersely as “sworn in the church”.
Paors used to say Milosh had luck perching on his float when often
returned with a netful of fish even when it was still quite early in the
morning. as well as being a master of strings he developed intricate
techniques of inveigling the carps out of their muddy burrows or bait-
ing the catfish out of the depths of water. Some paors stated that he
could make the catfish and other fish spellbound by playing a particu-
lar melody on his tamboura, although no one could swear of ever hear-
ing him do so. Technical intelligence was not his personal bent, solely
because it was spread all through his family of three elder brothers and
their father. although all paors had to outwit the very devil in dozens
of crafts and skills in order to survive and keep the household run-
ning, Milosh and his family were able to do even more and better. His
eldest brother lazar was reputed for being able to make what his eyes
could spot – a true Jack-of-all-trades. nedelko was a superb cartwheel
but too often given to revelries and bottle-hugging. Elders used to say
with a sigh that he would have made an arch-comedian. radivoy was
an archetypal story-teller, which overshadowed his mastery of black-
smithing or horse grooming. So the technical spark was there but too
often it was quenched by floods of other passions in all of them.
The merry boat was sending its ripples to the fishermen’ floats and
boats as sound waves were inundating their senses. Music was coming
from the player’s and tamboura’s united hearts and echoed against the
trembling body of the canal. The whole space from the muddy bottom
to the humid warm breath of the canal was soaked in soft plasma of
plucking tones. Sunlight bounced atop of the restless glass painting
unrepeatable flashing patterns that seemed to correspond to sounds.
Master Milosh, with his eyes closed, was the only person seen in the
entire setting gently pulsating in quivers of light and sound.
In his longer periods of sobriety and more conventional living,
Milosh would easily conjure up a pile of money by his copy-defying
skill of playing. Banknotes simply got stuck to the neck of his tam-
boura particularly when his band played at rich wedding parties that
often lasted for seven days.
Sumptuously decorated well-fed horses, that hardly kept their
energy within the limits of behaviour that reins entailed, pulled equally
spectacular coaches where the newly-wed couple sat dotted with musi-
cians. often another coach was brought solely for the band, as a sign
of respect for the band as well as demonstration of the hosts’ wealth.
The coaches paraded from the village or town hall to the church and
along streets where it was customary to greet them by all neighbours
who were available at the moment. among the chief figures at such
wedding revelries was the groom’s best man. He was expected to fling
showers of coins among crowds of children that followed behind and
have the loudest singing passages of the betcharatz. often his lyrics
were obscene and resulted from tipsy improvisation making the crowd
roar with the laughter.
once the party is over, as band leader, Milosh would split the tip
money into equal shares, as was customary among musicians, and
invest the biggest part into land or horses. land tilling was not his
mainstay occupation but making a homestead bigger was a sacred tes-
tament passed on from the elders. He always had a good horse in the
stable carefully taken care after by his two sons. His wife Mara made
her own money doing exceptional tailoring work for the women of
Turiya and surrounding places such as towns of Srbobran, Vrbas and
Betchay. She preferred to pick out the styles from the german fashion
magazines and she would have made a beautiful fashion model herself
when she was younger. Peace and boon would ensue with the return
of the head of the family back to wholesome behaviour and happiness
and it seemed to be as real and natural as the previous period of vagary
and incertitude. as long as the oath held its sway, the garden around
home, the fields away from the village, the family members and even
all the menagerie in the yard seemed to feel the awarding and favour-
able strokes of luck.
Milosh would silently practice his arpeggios in a dark corner of the
bedroom or write and compose new musical pieces. Many people used
to come offering steadier jobs, more money or fame. When there were
only few good players in Voyvodina, the Belgrade radio was willing to
record his music and offer a permanent job. not that he would openly
refuse the offers but he ignored them and threw himself into moody
taciturn fits of loneliness amid his own folks. With the oath deadline
approaching, he would become more nervous and aggressive. Quar-
rels with the wife and tense relations with the band or the neighbours
hang in the air. The sons stepped early onto the paths of independence,
one by pursuing the metal working trade school, the other by doing
petty repairs of electrical appliances around the village as he heavily
resisted the school and loathed the teachers.
Then the get-that-bottle times came galloping in another crazy
tempo and Master Milosh would put on a mask of his meaner nature
obscurely understood by himself or his friends and neighbours. The
thirsty beast seemed to gape its jaws at every new downward slide on
his changing path of life as if eager to make up for what it had missed.
Money was spent on new gambling challenges and the family had to