The following post was written by Ungerouhi Anaheed Sarian while visiting Yeraplur in Yerevan.
There is something polarising about walking through a cemetery of heroes. This was my second time in Yeraplur cemetery, but this time I understand more about the pertinence of such graves as these. Sure, there is no telling whether these were 'better' men or women than me or you or anyone who has passed or is living, but these were men and women who in the face of fear did not waver and devoted their entire selves, body and soul, to a cause that is still unresolved in its fulfilment. What makes a martyr, a hero, a revolutionary.
Is it their name, where they were born, what they were born into. I believe it is their imprint, the stamp they leave on time and place. The resonance of their works, their triumphs, even their shortcomings. What is there to gain or learn here, as I look upon the graves of Antranig, Monte, Sose mayrig. How can I, in my 21st century, first world mentality, begin to channel the energy around these Fedayis. What did they have to sacrifice to become great. What did they know deep in their heart that left them no room to back down from the call of greatness.
So often these experiences, these tours of historical landmarks, they leave me feeling separated and I feel I fall short of such a capacity. But I am learning to continue strive for greatness. I am learning that I am who I am today, because an undead spirit speaks to me and tells me I have something imperative to keep fighting for. There is no end to this cause. Some say when the genocide is recognised by the offender that we will have won. That we can sit back and relax and say it's done. I feel like this isn't all we are wanting. When I look at the years on the plaques and the time frames of these lives, I know there is more. This is the realm of greatness. The mind frame that settles for nothing. The working until the brain clicks into gear and achieves something other worldly that shakes the foundations of society and makes room for change.