FATHER, BROTHER, AND FRIEND...

Last year, the national poet Gabil Imamverdiyev (Gabil) could turn 91. He was born in 1926 in Baku. After graduation from the philological faculty of the Azerbaijan State Techers Institute, and then the Higher Literary Courses in Moscow, he has worked in various literary magazines and newspapers, on television and radio. His first collection of poems dates back to 1944 (poem Come, my spring) published in 1950 under the title The Morning Comes. Imamverdiyev’s books My blue Caspian, All my life, In a windy weather, Let the Nature speak, Dear passengers, Nasimi, The pills of life, The fate blessed by God, My friends etc. have been extremely well-received by readers.

In Nasimi, which is an important stage of Gabil’s creative life, the author has managed to look deep into the inner world of poet Imadeddin Nasimi. Gabil's contribution to the Azerbaijani literature was highly appreciated. He is the winner of the State Prize of Azerbaijan, Honored Worker of Arts, the National Poet, as well as the bearer of orders Shohrat and Istiglal. The renowned master of poetry died over ten years ago in Baku. But his memory still lives in the hearts of his friends and relatives. How Gabil was in everyday life? What kind of a father he was? His son, Mahir Imamverdiyev, shared memories of his father with us. 

- Mahir, when did you realize that your father was a famous poet in Azerbaijan?

- I was the only child in the family, and, of course, my parents focused all of their attention on me alone. I was a successful student. I especially liked the humanities. This is quite natural since my father was the National Poet of Azerbaijan and my mother was teaching literature and the Azerbaijani language. I realized that my father was a famous poet when I was 10 years old. At that time, he was awarded the State Prize of Azerbaijan, which marked his career growth. But father's fame had no effect on my growth. I studied at School No. 190 led by Director Sona Taghiyeva. She was not polite with me because of my father. To her, I was a pupil same as the rest. However, I did not cause any trouble both at home and school. Throughout the study, my parents were never summoned the school. But when entering the Baku State University, I had to use his father's name. To get to the Faculty of Philology without good connections was just unreal. The competition for admission was 10 people in place. After much persuasion, my father decided to use his connections and asked the then rector of BSU Faig Bigirzade. He promised me, or rather my father, a green light. Just before the exams, dad met the pro-rector Yahya Mamedov, who began to complain about his health. Dad immediately joked: “It’s not an appropriate time for dying. Let my son be admitted to the university, then do what you want.” Dad has a peculiar sense of humor. He liked black humor, in fact.

- Did you get to the University?

- Yes. Teachers were treating me well but there were those who deliberately underestimated my abilities. They believed that the father had to call them before every test or examination to personally ask for me. I remember the day before my exam on the subject of Fundamentals of literature with Professor Khalid Alimirzayev father was celebrating an event in his company. The next morning, when dad picked me up to the university, our neighbor Ifrat Aliyeva, who was the deputy dean at the same university, took the ride with us. She asked me when the exam was? Dad was surprised and asked if I had an exam that day? When I told him the name of Khalid-muallim, he was happy. He said they were together yesterday and toasted to each other's health. Ifrat-khanum suggested that father goes to Khalid-muallim and asks for me. Father refused. He decided that he would be offended, and I had to pass exams without anyone's protection. As a result, I got the third grade although I knew the subject. Naturally, I expressed my displeasure and began to rebel against the assessment. Then the teacher told me the truth. It turned out that he wanted to see my reaction and put my grade using his pencil, so that he could easily fix it to the good grade.

- How was your father at home? Was he a tough father or spoiled his only son?

- Not spoiled, but was not too tough either. He was very impatient, stubborn and emotional person. If he was wrong, he would immediately apologize. Once I had a proper walloping. Although later he regretted his action. I was in the 8^th grade. Dad asked me to wash his car. He put me behind the wheel and asked me to reverse up until the faucet. He wanted to see if I could drive the car. So, I gave back and crashed into the garage of the poet Zeynal Khalil. Dad was very angry with me and slapped me. His friends did not understand his slap. After all, my father knew that it was illegal for a 15-year-old boy to drive a car. In general, we had often argued. While he could have it all, no matter what wished: cars, apartments, cottages. But he always said that all these benefits are not important to him. When the country started the difficult days, all ran to the shops in search of scarce commodity, I decided to do business. He began haggling. When his father found out, that gave a real scandal and threatened that if I am jailed for speculation, he did not lift a finger to release me. Dad lived under the old laws. I remember the chairman of the Union of Writers Imran Gasimov he proposed to the Pope to move to a brand new two-bedroom apartment near the Government House. The father refused to leave his two-room apartment just because he did not want to leave the garage. His last argument was that the old apartment round the clock water supply.

- And what was your mom’s reaction to such stubbornness?

- My mom, on the contrary, was very patient and calm. She was born in 1930 in a family with eight children - five brothers and three sisters. She began working when she was 13 years old. Her family used to save on everything. Time was heavy and hectic. Even after the war, my mother continued to have the habit to save the match and once again not lighted. Dad, on the contrary, was profligate, living for today. He has never had savings, loved to spend money on gatherings with friends. He adored animals, especially cats. Every time he walked into the restaurant, he ordered a separate portion of kebab for local cats. You know, he, like me, was the only child in the family. He, like me, had no brothers. So, Gabil was my father, my brother, and my friend – all at the same time...

- As far as we know, Gabil-muallim loved to joke and often with his friends. Tell us about the most fun event...

- Yes, dad liked joking. Every time he received remuneration, he would pronounce loudly and solemnly: “ABV!” (the first letters of the Russian alphabet, Ed.). The cashier could not understand what father meant. And he would later explain in all seriousness: ABV means “Allah Bereket Versin” (God bless these small favours!, Ed.). Let me tell you another story. One day, dad and one of his relatives went to Yardimli district. Suddenly he stopped the car at a huge old tree on the hillside of Odragan. They sat down, eating and drinking. Dad said a toast to the tree, which he called Yashilbey. “Do you know why I stopped near the tree? I will no longer be on this earth some day. And every time you pass along this road and see Yashilbey, you’ll remember me.”  Until now, when we go to Yardimli and pass by that tree, we recall my father. We used to repeat “Rest in pece” every day. Now we do this rarely. Not because we forget the father. In our family, we have five grandchildren. The eldest one is the five-year-old Gabil. We told him the reason he is called Gabil and what a wonderful man was his great-grandfather. He is proud of his great-grandfather...