Morning. Im running late to work as usual. Im rushing out of the door, buttoning myself up on my way. Theres Ivan Kuzmich sitting on the bench. Everybody calls him Grandpa Kuzya, he is about 80 years old, but his mind is not that of an old man at all.
-> Youre in a hurry again? the old man asks.
-> Yeah, no happiness in personal life, – I reply finishing buttoning up.
-> Thats because you dont know what happiness is, – he reproaches me.
Its hard to put up, pay no heed that being 49 something I havent known happiness.
I stop short, realizing that now Im sure to be late. But to catch the old man in his overweening delusion is far more important that telling-off at work. What could an elderly person know about happiness? If he ever had it, it was forgotten long ago.
-> Ivan Kuzmich, and do you know what happiness is? Did you have a cool Mercedes, sexy mistress, pretty wife? And maybe you used to be The Partys Secretary General? Or a major research worker? Maybe you found and proved the formula of happiness? Tell me. What is this all about?
-> Ill tell you just in a word as youre in hurry. Just briefly and...
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