Georgia’s Selfie
Some say I am way over three thousand years of age, and I want to believe that. There is a lot of competition in the region on longevity, and I tend to emerge as the best among my peers, although the age of a nation should not have anything to do with the quality of its life today. Western nations, for instance, are much younger, but their standard of living is a lot higher than mine. Well, I have my own dimensions and I am OK with them: socially, I am expansive, physically – exhausted, morally – confused, attitudinally – peppery, territorially – shrinking, economically – doddering, demographically – dwindling, politically – overcharged, psychologically – bubbling, philosophically – vacillating, geographically – lucky, technically – catching up, futuristically – overcast, and on a cultural level – foppishly self-confident. This is the way I feel as the 21st century is still young.
My people are inclined to think they deserve more than they currently enjoy, always keeping in mind my national antiquity and the uniqueness of my culture, but the modern Free World’s mindset somewhat contradicts my thinking: while I blame my predatory neighbor for having unlawfully bitten off my territory, which I want back among my assets forthwith, the Free World prompts me not to move a finger undiplomatically until the predator humanizes itself enough to see me whole again. I have the patience to wait and see what happens, but the Free World is not coming up with any specific guarantees for my revitalization. The Free World is leaning towards the belief that I am more or less an organic part of it, but the fact is that the Free World is somewhat freer than me to embark on the agendum of its own perspective and faith.
Whatever is left after a 100-year forceful tailoring, my people have a small but beautiful piece of land, fertile enough to feed themselves and even nourish others, but I don’t possess enough hands or will to have it work as productively as other little darlings like me do around the world. After being pushed back from my northern seashores, I still have access to deep waters of the globe, but my navigating potential is still in expectation for major development. I have plenty of schools for my young to go to, but, amazingly, the education I give them is almost impossible to translate into my people’s wellbeing. I have plenty of work for the working part of my population, if they want to labor, but most of them ogle jobs elsewhere, beyond my borders. I certainly produce something to sell, but I have no way to reach the worldwide marketable fame so that my products turn into universally known brand names.
I dream of having my labor force operate faster and stronger to produce more and better, but I have no ability to provide it with tangible incentives. I want my ideological elite to go for deeds sooner than for words, but I don’t have enough power to cut their oversize gullibility and overblown promises in favor of genuine national prosperity. I feel I am losing ground under my feet on an everyday basis for reasons like my demographic fragility, territorial contraction, uncertainty in developmental vectors, ideological and rational mendicity, but I am not able to stop the avalanche of depressing multifaceted absurdity in almost every walk of life.
Add to that the fact my cultural accomplishments are valuable enough to sell well, but I mostly use them to entertain my own folks rather than push for international commercial display.
The funniest part of the whole deal is that I am formally independent and free, but there are very few things I can do freely and independently. I know there are some practicable ways out of the frozen instant, but the wisest part of the nation is either mum or unheeded. The Free World knows well who I am and what I represent, and likes me much, and even sees me in partnership and cooperation, but it seems not very expeditious in action and appears reserved in thinking, and I wish I could believe that it has enough reason to cling to this subtle attitudinal verge.
I don’t need much! I only demand to be clearly noticed and seriously reckoned with, so that my truly valuable potential to live and let others live is not buried and forgotten as often happens with talent.
By Nugzar B. Ruhadze
Image by Tony Hanmer