ინგლისურ ენაზე, ერთ-ერთი ამერიკული კონკურსისთვის დავწერე. იმედია არ გამკიცხავთ და ვისაც შეგეძლებათ წაიკითხავთ.

მარიამ გვარამია

Mama Jolly poops Dreams?!!!

By Mariam Gvaramia

Prolog

As everything has it’s beginning, unfortunately it is also doomed to end, That’s unquestionable truth, proven through harsh history of mankind... as for us, human beings, well, we seem to be fragile yet curious creatures, who strive for more. There are goals and thousands of possible ways to prove ourselves and leave something behind, all we need is strong will and one single opportunity of being in the right place on the right time. What is left is to believe in yourself, not forget to put your lucky charm in the pocket and don’t be afraid of changes.

It’s really sweet talk but not for me, not for a being who is similar to billions of others, with no money, from though ancient and prideful but nowadays almost unknown, poor country. Can those people from there high horses say, that fate is equal to everyone and even for me there is hope for success... It’s kind of challenge, hurdle I must overcome as I refuse to be forgotten. Let’s say, having good luck is my Christmas wish to almighty Mr. Santa Claus... If I don’t do anything no one will come to help, so I have to burn my very soul in words and leave it to papers. And please, my dear caretakers take my words to everyone, who does not believe in magic, dreams and childish wonder. Reach them when the time comes.

Dear Mrs. Fair

Due to your request, I searched all over the old hut near the river and found some of the stories of my late grandmother Wilhelmina Eden Bleach, who was more known as Mama Jolly Poops. I honestly think, that red haired witch deserves the worst. I don’t know why you bother yourself thinking about her, but hope that at least her death she can be useful to our family, considering I am a good person I can’t give away her writings without proper compensation.

With respect

Dr. Madeline Cockcrows

This letter was sent to me about two months ago by unknown person, but I didn’t pay any special attention, as most of my friends sand me old tales, urban stories, legends, everything they find interesting, strange or sometimes even paranormal....though I don’t believe in these kind of things, I enjoy telling them, as it warms from inside and makes me breath more freely.

The story I want to tell, when it happened and how, can you guess? I have to begin, hmm, what else? The miracle story I guess.

- Mary, when was the last time you slept in the bed? There are loads of papers on your desk. And above all, soon is Christmas, the day of wonder, but you? You are here, alone-said mum one morning, when she dropped by to confirm if I was still alive or not as I haven’t called her or answered phones for awhile. I’m really worried about you dear, what are you doing here? I didn’t have enough strength to fight back and looked tiredly pretending to listen to her never ending nagging.- I know you can’t write anything new, but remember seating here and ding nothing won’t get you anywhere , Go and find your story till Christmas or just give up and never write again…but I know it’s impossible for someone who can’t find even boyfriend herself, when I was your age...the rest of conversation is not important as it seemed to be a boast of middle-aged woman, who is frightened to lose youth and tries to look cooler and covers with past experiences., I honestly respect you in my way mum and today I was amazed too, she saw trough me as always. You are brilliant Mrs. Viviane!!! So I put my luggage together and when I cooled down I was already at the station, well what’s done is done, that’s a bet mum!!! I never go back on my words, my topic will be Mama jolly poops I’ll find her identity till Christmas or will never write again.

“Once upon a time in a small house over the hill, lived woman called Will, who was always ill .Imagine as you feel, she was bad enough to kill, that’s a

story told over meal ,when the child doesn’t take the pill”-it was one of many horror stories told to mischievous children like me. Every story, every tale or legend has its origin, probably this one too, who was this woman? Did she ever exist? I need to find answers…

Here are some notes from my diary:

20.12.2014

Night falls. The sky is full of fearful, ominous darkness. The roads are so wet it’s easy to slip down. Red, blue, green umbrellas keep dancing in the heavy rain; they look like colorful candles in the pitch dark. You want to shout with all your might and tear everything apart to become the trigger of new beginning. To make the stars reappear stars which are like ringing bells in the night sky. Did you know? They can laugh, cry, or just seat on the clouds and gossip merrily.

Moon calls for romance but unfortunately there are no steps on the ground.

Just dirty, boring but sometimes, only for a bit, hopeful earth...

I got carried away again, (it happens when I’m in mood of Mozart’s requiem).

This time I’ll have to stay in hotel. Everything is so confusing I don’t even know where to begin. Well, sweet dreams and good luck dear me.

22.12.2014

Yesterday was the worst day of my life; I circled whole Tbilisi twice but in vain. As for today I just wonder if Mama Jolly Poops has ever existed. No one knows anything. No clues... 2 days left till deadline, 2 days till this damn Christmas. Can’t walk any more, need to call taxi and sleep, sometimes you should know when to give up...I’ll go home tomorrow sorry mum

23.12.2014

I called taxi to take me to railway station, what was left more? I tried everything promise to fulfill the promise but Mama Jolly Poops is nowhere to be found...

- Mary, Mary-heard I such a loud voice from somewhere behind that had to stop the driver immediately.

- Haven’t seen you for ages dear!!! And look at you, did you loose some weight? You look so pale, are you eating properly? Why are seats always so narrow in taxis?-shouted the owner of the voice, while trying to seat properly on the backseat of taxi without result... She turned out to be my classmate Leila and one of the last persons I wanted to meet, -Hi, New Year piglet! I wanted to say, but it seemed that piglet has turned into big, fat pig, with glorious stomach, long time ago. Obviously I didn’t say all this aloud and smiled back. - Hi, Leila, how are you, what are you doing? – I asked just not to be rude.

- Oh, dear I am single yet, but women like me are one in million, and remember my words, once, none of, these, so called men will be able to turn me down... As for job, now I am working in a department store, I have lost whole 5 kilos, because of this, can you imagine? No, I really need to find another job, don’t you think so? - And you? You seem to be doing great, I heard you became writer and now studying law too, is it true? Where are you going now? Have you met any celebrities yet? Can you give me there signs? I know you won’t forget best friends even after becoming famous, right?

-Of course I had to say that I won’t, even if I win Nobel Prize (though I know it will never happen)

Leila continued her never ending stories to that extent that I wished I didn’t stop the car and pick her up. At last she asked the driver to stop said goodbye more than for minute shaking my hands and hugging me like 5 years old child.

I tried to close my eyes and sleep, when the driver who was quiet till know suddenly said, blushing: miss, do you believe in destiny? – I didn’t know the answer but the driver continued as if talking to himself, that charming lady, was she your friend? She can’t be free, considering how beautiful she is right? But if, ... Well, can you give me her number?-I looked at his slim figure, thin long face for the first time, and answered, confusingly - I think she is free but…Suddenly I heard such a strange inhuman shout , that it made me stand up and look around. Good, very good- said the same voice, which most likely belonged to the driver. By the way who are you searching, I might be able to help.-I answered as it’s a well known fact that taxi driver is a best adviser when it comes to gossips and old urban stories.

- I am searching anything about Mama Jolly poops…I couldn’t stop my voice trembling.

-Mama jolly poops? What a strange name... but wait a second, I guess I remembered...

-Do you know anything?

-well, I remember one of my nephews Michael’s friends was a foreigner, I believe her name was Malcolm Cockcrows...

- Cockcrows? Now it was time for me to remember, it can’t be, yes the sander of that letter definitely had the same surname though if am not wrong she was woman, but they might be somehow related, why not? Did I accidently hit a jackpot? No, it can’t be, gods please tell me that I am on the right track...

- Is he here? Can we visit him? When? Where? How?

- Please calm down; of course we can miss, but my nephew is a busy man so let me confirm if he is free. Few minutes later the driver said it was ok for us to visit his nephew next day at 10 o’clock. It seemed he had some kind of party arranged around that time, so after politely listening to my circumstance Mr. Nephew asked us to attend the party while Mr. Cockcrows will most likely be there too. Hmm, though these kind of flashy things aren’t really my stile I agreed as I ‘m not going to miss the chance to learn more about Mama jolly poops, not to mention that Christmas is around the corner.

I have to stay in hotel and put up with their tasteless food. Hope for the best.

24.12.2014

I could not sleep at all last night, but decided, not to have high hopes for success, so I wouldn’t be disappointed in the end. But I have to try my best and prepare for upcoming party, though there is plenty of time left till 10 o’ clock. I called Taxi driver and we decided that he will pick me up from hotel on half past nine... When the time came I was almost ready and to be honest even taxi driver couldn’t stop himself from tell that my favorite red dress looked wonderful on me (though I thought he would be more exited and lost in words, if Leila was in my place...)

The winter cottage of Mr. nephew was very lovely, it seemed to be away from everything, lost somewhere in cold, white coat. The house looked lonely from outside. But when we entered, the room was warm and full of people. It made me remember that nothing can be judged by looks. Mr. Nephew turned out to be more gallant and then I expected. -I will personally introduce you to Malcolm Cockcrows- promised he ...Then occurred one of the funniest moments I have ever experienced0: While giving thanks, I called him Mr. Nephew without second thought. In the beginning he was a bit confused, but then instead of being angry he just began laughing, calling me interesting fellow. As for me, I guess I blushed like little kid and wished for the ground to fall apart and take me in...

Two whole hours passed ... I almost thought that Mr. Cockcrows decided not to come to the party and my only opportunity was gone forever, when Mr. Michael (I guess I have to call him properly after that shameful accident) came and said that the person I wanted to meet was waiting for me in the library ,upstairs. I was amazed and frightened at the same time to that extent that no words came out and the tears I held back the whole time just overflowed... I can’t believe, another shameless thing in front of stranger, and all this after I decided that only weak woman cry, mostly in front of men, to make cheap shows and impress them, as that’s the only way for them, but I am not like others at least I thought so till today, but this man, this Mr. Nephew.. I think I left him stunned and ran upstairs as if thousands of devils were after me hanging to my pure soul...

Mr. Cockcrows was typical foreigner, with blue eyes, pale skin and ash-blond hair, he spoke with clear Scottish accent, when I asked him about Dr. Medline Cockcrows, he was pretty amazed, as she turned out to be his late mother, who was descendant of missioners who came to Georgia at the and of 18 century. Mr. Malcolm proudly was proud that his ancestors died fighting against Russian empire’s tyranny, for the independence of Georgia...I mumbled something like thanking and apologizing, but it seemed really out of place after whole two centuries... As for Mama jolly poops, he knew nothing ...I was devastated, it was the end... After all I only was able to confirm that she really existed nothing more. I decided to leave the party immediately saying goodbye to everyone, when Mr. Cockcrows came running after me: Miss Mariam, I know, I just remembered where the old hut is. I believe it was in the place... yes, Svaneti Mountains...

I was somehow relieved and eagerly promised to myself and Mr. Malcolm that no matter what, the true story about Mama Jolly Poops will be written. Then I went on my journey to Svaneti Mountains.

It is 24. 12. 2014. Half past three, I wish I had wings but just have to hope that I’ll be there at least until it becomes dark. I’m really afraid, Christmas is tomorrow, what is left for me?

Information for my dear readers:

Svaneti Mountains is in the north-west part of the leading country in Caucasus region-Georgia. There is also the highest populated village in whole Europe. It is also considered to be one the best tourist attractions because of its unique nature, legends and habits preserved till modern days...

I arrived at last! The mountains are already covered in thick mist; they look like tired old woman, who is washing her silver hair in the cold spring.

It’s impossible to go with a rented car anymore as the roads are becoming narrower, I have to ask the villagers about Mama jolly poops and the old hut. I mat an old man, he seems very friendly but as I mentioned Mama Jolly poop’s name he was really frightened. Did my daughter know that she was a witch and could talk to spirits? But I don’t care, I was searching everywhere, just a bit more I am closer to the truth more than ever before...I asked the man if he could give any information even the smallest. -“You can find the hut of the witch over that hill, but no one goes near it because it is believed to be cursed. If it’s your fate I won’t stop you but please consider old man’s wish, tonight is Christmas, no one must wonder alone, even more in this kind of places, where devils gather and souls of dead wonder, don’t go there my child stay with my family tonight. We, in the mountains believe that every guest is sent by god so welcome-said he. What the hack, I thought to myself as if I am going to loose to this kind of stupid superstition. So I refused to stay and asked if there was any mean of transportation, you here is my horse Chancham, it’s the last thing I can do for you if you insist on going. Let the kind souls of Christmas accompany you, after saying this old man disappeared in split of moment as if he doesn’t exist at all. But as if I care, I have to be there till Christmas. It is no longer because of my mum or someone else, it has already become some kind of madness, and as if I am possessed by Mama Jolly poops vengeful spirit, as if my own existence depends on her...

it’s becoming more and more chilly, picks has turned mouse gray, the road is like a thin rope hung between sky and ground, which can disappear any moment, clever horse tries to look through the hollow eyes of darkness as if protecting me with it’s warm, strong body...

What should I do, it seems that soon I’ll have to face almighty mountain blizzard. Please, hurry up Chancham , for god’s sake, hurry up or, .... Now I can understand the meaning of phrase: whole my life flew in front of my eyes in a split of minute...I don’t want to die, I want to live to know more about Mama Jolly poops. I wish to reach the hut safely, come on Chancham we have to do this...

I can feel something cold and wet touching my face, I think It’s Chancham. It seems I lost my senses at some point as I found myself lying on the ground, with lots of effort leaning on the horse I finally stood on the feet, and looked around, half of the moon is covered in thick clouds. There is a dick forest around me. And what’s over there? I it the rumored old hut? I ran like wind towards it and rushed into almost opened door...For a moment I couldn’t believe in my own good luck, glory, fame success never was so near... I wish it lasted even for a bit longer, but dreams rarely come true. The whole hut was absolutely empty, laughable right? Last of my chances was completely shattered, it turns out that I was too naive all this time...logically thinking ,what I was expecting from run down old hut which can be blown away by first mountain breeze?! I have to breath fresh air or all this can drive me to insanity, strange thoughts keep rolling through my head, I sat on the wet floor and looked through opened door, I felt like bird in the cage, all these frustration built up in me during my short life meaningless life broke through frozen blood and I shouted, cried in a loud voice: you god, Santa Claus or what are you called, I don’t believe in you do you hear me? If you exist and posses even a bit of that power for which you are believed in, answer me what can I do? I don’t want to be looser like myself I agree to be even someone like Mama jolly poop...I looked tiredly on the top of the high Christmas tree and saw a big, bright star sitting on the top of it. It was so brilliant, that I have to turn my eyes down. Everything was over, I am ran out of luck and forsaken by fate. I can’t feel my legs; maybe I’ll sleep for a bit than search for Chancham and return to my grey daily life... It is 25.12.2014, exactly 12 o’ clock.

- Jolly poops, jolly poops, Mama Jolly poops, why are you called mama jolly poops?-heard I voice from somewhere

- come out jolly poops, red haired jolly poop come out you witch!

I opened my eyes and saw the bright sun shining from the holes of old hut, I stood up easily, and my body never felt so light, I opened the door, what I saw I could not imagine even in the wildest my dreams. Instead of dick forest there was a big strange city, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Am I dreaming? I opened and closed eyes several times, but in vain, the reality didn’t change. It was amazing, can you guess why? The city was hanged upside down. Everything was upside down; even the people. Welcome to the dream city of Mama jolly poops, visitor number 11- said obviously one of the important citizens, with a caramel head, in a loud voice. Here are some regulations you need to know after coming here, but you have to harry, this papers are made of ice-cream they can melt down. This city is full of amusing things; you can find it in the guidebook. Houses are made from chocolates, roads from sour-cream, buses from candies and people from jolly pops, in the center of the city stands the fountain from honey and milk. Squares are made of biscuits. Here we have cracker rain, can you imagine? Real, salty crackers falling from the sky, but don’t be mistaken you can’t eat here anything , what is broken or eaten once, is over forever because here nobody bothers himself tuning it up properly again. As for laws, you can’t say more than hundred words a day, don’t look at people properly face to face, and I almost forgot you mustn’t wear anything except black clothes. Colorful ones are allowed only once a year on the day of the birth of the city only for 10 minutes and if you wear them with black shoes, with 20 centimeter long nose, if they are one centimeter longer or shorter it is considered as a violation of rules-Say that I m not mistaken said I, grasping the small time of silence, am I dreaming? Is it kind of heaven or hell? If it were me I would say that you are in kind of Alice’s wonderland, you look confused, well, can’t blame you. Imagine, every person in this world has Its own dreams, but sometimes dreams of people loved or hated strongly give birth to this kind of it’s own worlds, they exist somewhere between the realm of dreams and reality. This is a world born from emotions of person called Mama Jolly poops, enormous hatred towards her, mainly without any reason. Only because she was a bit different form others, she was considered as witch, betrayed and left alone, now all her emotions turned into this kind of maze. So powerful that even Christmas spirits are trapped there can you see it? I heard from somewhere. I looked up in the sky and saw an ice cage with golden chains there. If they are not freed sooner there will be neither Santa Claus nor Christmas...

-Why is everything here upside down? - I was curious

I’ll tell you one story and you’ll understand: In this city there is one old habit once a year every citizen must gather in the middle of the city and wash the body with fresh water, if they do so, it is said they’ll obtain the most valuable treasure in the world. But they don’t have enough courage even to wet their knees with water, because they aren’t ready for changes. Of course they are punished because of this. Can’t you see? There is not one, but seven suns on the sky but this people are not allowed to see even one... I think you already know why you are here...

- I can’t imagine what I can...

-Please, change, these world, let good things happen in Mama Jolly poops dreams.

_but how, I don’t have this kind of strength...

All you need is to believe and prove that there are not entirely bad people, that even the worst ones have the power to change themselves and those around

them...

-Mariam, Wake up, Mariam I heard familiar voice, As I opened eyes I saw Michael holding me in his arms and shouting at me. It turned out that he was worried about me as I dashed without any equipment. And after searching for awhile he found me here lying almost frozen.

I don’t know if I saved Christmas or made the dreams of Mama Jolly poops happier or was that night just imagination of my frozen body, who knows, but the fact that I started to believe in people more before is clear.

Now I even believe that every Adam has his own Eve, and every Eve is born for love...If we don’t trust each other, nothing’s going to change. And things that don’t change are boring and doomed to be destroyed sooner or later.

There is one more episode to tell: I won bet with my mum and met wonderful person like Michael, and on the day of our wedding, I received a letter on my email:” Miss Mariam thanks for wishing to become Mama jolly poops, thanks for saving Christmas “- Santa Claus (It seems they really have internet on the North pole or it was just one of my friends franks, believe or not is up to you).

Georgia, Tbilisi

December 2014