A light from a cellar window spilled out on the sidewalk in the shape that kids usually give to the tail of a comet. The whiteness of the chamber behind the window was disturbed by an endless table studded with figures in black. The aroma that spiced the air reminded of the abundance of food and drink.
Wine jugs provided a short relieve from the homeless reality. From the richest people in Georgia they suddenly became poor cousins with no land. The most beautiful part of the country that used to be theirs has been ripped apart by the tracks of the enemy tanks, as if the civil war alone was not a sufficient dose of tragedy for this generation. Not long ago Abhasians were the most generous hosts famous for their hospitality. Now they must wait and dwell in run down hotels converted to refugee shelters.
After a traditional series of opening toasts for the ancestors and for the families, *Tabada called for a toast for the fatherland. To raise that particular toast he asked the old Ramaz. With his gray hair and eyes dark like two shiny pieces of obsidian the old man's figure demanded respect in the most natural way. His face was bruised with life and old age like a bark of an ancient oak tree that he reminded of. In the way he looked and spoke he resembled an ancient biblical patriarch:
Long time ago, God complained to Archangel Gabriel: I am tired, He said. People are constantly asking me for intervention or for advice. I need some rest. I was looking for solitude in the desert; they found me there even in the most secluded part. I also tried to hide in the forest; they found me there too. I even escaped to a small island in the middle of the sea; still people came to me on the ship. I lost all my hope in having any rest at all. - Said God.
Archangel Gabriel replied: Lord, there is a place on this Earth, where people live happy lives and are not asking for anything. They live simple lives, from one day to the next, like you told them to. They are good people and grateful to thee for whatever you gave them in your kindness. They do not need more. You forgot them, because being happy they never dared to ask you for anything more. Why don't you hide among them and nobody will find you there. That place is called Abhazia...
All men present fulfilled the toast and then one by one came up to the Old Ramaz to hug him and kiss his cheeks. They continued to dine. Eventually the golden tail of the comet blended with the morning light.
...Georgian wine is not clear just like in life it is hard to see through the future.
...Every valley has it's own species of vine that will not grow anywhere else, even in the neighboring valley. That is why every wine like every man has it's own, different character.
... The shape of the bottle makes no difference. The taste of wine is crucial, and who is sitting with you at the table. Just like in life...
...Bringing our grapes to your winery will not do you any good. Wine takes its taste also from the earth. In a foreign land our grapes will give you a different taste. People also change when fate takes them far away from the land on which they grew up...
.... After a good Georgian wine your head will not hurt the next day. Live through your days in such way that you would not have to regret anything later....
...Look at the people around you. Some drink entire jugs at once, others drink wine slowly one glass after another. Some will take away someone else's' ship, others would only like to get back their tiny basket...