Comets (კომეტები)

"By your life, I swear to you: until now, I thought that you were dead.

And I wept for that, thinking all my life and all my strength had fled.

Now having news of you, I humbly praise the Creator instead.

All my previous grief, I consider joy. All my tears are shed. I know you are alive...

I know you are alive: the hope this gives to my heart is ample,

A heart, all wounded and consumed, which recently Fate did trample.

Think of me, remember me, as one lost to you, God's example.

I sit nursing the rooted love I first planted as a sample...

- Irina. - Yes.

Get me the bowl, will you?

Where is it?

It's over there, on the shelf.

You've been reading since morning?

Yesterday, there was none, and today, I found them all black.

You won't help me pick the good ones, will you?

Honey, will you take off these glasses?

And don't be coming up this late... I'd rather have you stay in Tbilisi.

You can't sleep when I'm home, right?

I don't want to go to Tbilisi, it's hot.

Everything and everybody stinks.

- When are they coming? - In the evening.

For how long will they be leaving them here?

For a month. Why?

We used to always travel together.

You and father wouldn't go anywhere without us.

What's wrong with my brother?

It's probably Ana's idea, she must be so tired of sleeping...

- Irina... - What?

You're talking about your brother's wife.

So what?

And about the stay of your nephews.

What is it, did something happen?

No, what could've happened anyway?

I had an argument with Oto.

I don't get how anyone can be this calm.

He always knows what he wants, where he wants to be, and with whom.

And he never asks me where I am, or with whom.

He trusts me like that, unconditionally.

He doesn't have the slightest doubt about anything.

He has never pointed at any of my mistakes, or my indifference.

But most importantly, he never expects anything from me in return.

I think I'm not capable of loving.

You must know better than anyone, you're my mother.

Are you going to cry?

Answer me.

No, honey, you're not a walking dead.

If someone is not able to love, then they're a walking dead, Nana?

Then this country is full of the walking dead. That's probably why it stinks.

I'm just complicating things, right?

I think so, yes.

But that's your character.

You were already like that in the womb... Always in opposition.

I could already sense your character.

Your very first word was "no".

Then "mother".

Then "no, mother".

When you made me go crazy because of that character of yours,

the only thing I could tell you was: "go away".

But you wouldn't go.

You would stand there, defiant...

And look at me with a stubborn face.

You wouldn't take your eyes away from me.

I saw some kind of strength in that look.

You were ready to oppose everything and everyone.

Others would notice it too.

But they couldn't guess what was beyond that look.

It's as if my love was never enough for you.

And I didn't know what to do with all this love.

I still don't know.

I would tell you to go away...

And then... Then I would suddenly embrace you.

I still remember that heartbeat...

Fast and...

Sad...

Have you ever heard of a sad heartbeat?

- Only from you. - You're still looking at me with that very face.

Stop it, I won't let you feel my heartbeat, your hands are dirty.

I never get tired of watching you, you know.

So what do I have to buy?

The list is next to the phone.

How far is the airport?

About an hour from here.

Okay.

- Nana, you didn't write coffee. - We have some.

I'm not taking the car.

Irina, what did you forget?

Irina!

Are you calling me?

Are you alright?

- Are you always here? - No, when it gets cold, I go to Tbilisi.

Will you come? Let us sit there.

What happened to you there?

You had the same dress back then, didn't you?

It seems like nothing has changed here.

You woke up?

Irina.

Where were you?

Why didn't you wake me up?

Open the door.

I will call my mother.

My father won't be coming up today, so I went to the shop.

Alright.

I have very good honey. Honey from May.

Come on, Irina, open the door.

I'm tired.

Show me.

Have you had chickens for a long time?

Yes, but I don't eat them. Only the eggs.

I saw a stencil on a wall. Brezhnev is kissing someone on the lips.

Could you have imagined that?

What's there to imagine?

I've seen him kissing people thousands of times.

No, I meant a stencil on the wall.

Ah, you're right. That I could not have imagined.

Like many other things.

You thought that they would stay forever?

Why, have they gone anywhere?

They will.

They will have to.

Sometimes, I think they will never go.

I think our independence is fictitious.

And that's why we can't get free.

Fictitious, from where did you unearth that word?

I don't know, everything seems a bit different from there.

Do we seem free?

Maybe not free, but changed...

This morning, I was listening to the mayor on the radio.

They put water pipes and constructed roads in some neighbourhood.

And he was talking as if...

As if we had to be thankful towards him for doing all that.

Why are you so surprised?

You know that this is not an actual state, don't you?

He gives himself the right to act like that.

He talks to the people who live in that specific residential area.

That's all.

Who's Irina?

Irina is my daughter. She's just gone out.

I thought she had forgotten something.

You named your daughter Irina?

My second child is named Giorgi. He has two children himself.

I'm a grandmother...

Why are you laughing? It's time already.

Yes...

Of course, it is time...

What about your husband?

My husband passed seven years ago.

Don't you want to take off those glasses?

The taxi is waiting for me.

What does it have to do with taking off your glasses?

The taxi...

It's hot, you should've invited the driver inside.

It's not a big deal, he has air conditioning.

I will bring him water.

You became more caring.

I didn't get it.

"It's hot, you should've brought him in, I'll bring him water..."

You can still imitate me well...

Are you hungry?

I'll have a coffee.

Do you need help?

Why did you come back?

Irina.

Yes.

I asked you why you came back.

My aunt died, she left me an apartment.

I had to sort out some things.

Lovely Tsira.

Are you sleeping?

Are you thinking?

Then what are you doing?

How many cigarettes have you smoked today?

Go on, speak to me.

Do you still like your coffee sweet?

When I left this place, I enrolled at the Krakow University.

I practically started from scratch.

I studied economics.

Then in 1989, I moved to Berlin.

I destroyed the Berlin Wall.

No, really. I even have a picture.

Alright, and then?

I stayed in Berlin for seven years.

Then I went back to Krakow.

My father's wife had died, and I stayed there for a while.

For about three years, I was helping my father.

Then I moved to Portugal.

From there to Berlin.

Then Krakow again.

This time, it was my father who had died.

He left me two restaurants. I'm opening the fourth one now.

No, really.

Georgian cuisine.