a man in the fire

In 1991, in my country Georgia, there was a controversy in the society. Due to political ideology, the society was on the verge of civil war. Mass protests were held, which were suppressed. People were hostile to each other. As a sign of protest and to establish peace, a person set himself on fire. The writing is experimental and involves a mixture of thoughts and ideas.

• Satire
• Fiction

								
Dedicated to the memory of Georgian hero Gia Abesadze.

It was September 21, 1991. That day flew by, leaving little for anyone to grasp. It was a strange state of being—something that some people savored, like a delicacy on their tongues, but others had to swallow down with disgust. The poor man's teeth were completely shattered; he couldn’t even chew his food.

the first second

He holds a matchbox in his trembling hand. His expression doesn’t change, probably thinking the match will light itself. People are gathered around. Nobody knows what’s going through his head. They see his clothes soaked in gasoline and the matchbox in his hand, but it’s like they can’t fully process what’s happening. They just stand there, staring. He doesn’t say a word. He strikes a match, and death approaches like a searing heat, standing there, blazing like a poppy.

second second

Ash gets caught in people’s throats and lungs. They rise, but they don’t move. Then, someone starts speaking in a choked voice, scratching at their face with their fingernails, shaking uncontrollably, and slowly moving toward the burning man. Others shudder, turn away, cover their faces with their hands, and drop to their knees. An old man mutters something strange—“So what? So what if he saw freedom in death.”

third second

Death, maybe you can’t bring peace to your soul so easily, so calmly. You’re burning with heat, but you don’t know that these people have hearts of iron. One person’s death probably can’t change the story of these people.

fourth second

They say there’s a God in the world. If you believe, water will heal all those wounds that you’ll always remember. It will heal; the pain will disappear. You won’t feel anything anymore, because you’ll be dead.

 fifth second

Humanity praised him for suppressing all human feelings except hatred. He kept moving forward, destroying everything in his path. He couldn’t see beyond his own beliefs. He didn’t come here for his own freedom but to take away the freedom of others. If he were given a weapon in heaven, he would defeat his own brothers without hesitation and then declare himself a hero, calling the dead his sworn enemies. He looked at the burning man. Tears rolled down his cheeks and evaporated into the air, the steam hanging heavily. It’s a shame that people didn’t even try to stop him.

sixth second

Someone is trying to put out the fire and save the poor man’s skin from burning. Little do they know, the man is burning from the inside. His mouth starts to move, and he manages to say, “If it takes a sacrifice for the Georgians to reconcile and for Georgia to rise again, let me be that sacrifice, God willing.”

Memories often get mixed up and turn into mere facts—harsh but true. The past can be both a source of shame and pride. During times of chaos, people's minds become like flickering candles, spreading soot everywhere. In that turmoil, he didn’t realize that neither words, nor speeches, nor even harsh truths would be enough to wake the people. Suddenly, you realize the past is nothing more than a fabricated fairy tale.

It was September 21, 1991. A masked man standing in the square poured gasoline over his head, and the spark set his body ablaze. No one flinched; the fire didn’t spread to others. They stood there in awe, as if it were some illusionist's performance. Someone opened their eyes. Water put out the fire. The man turned to ashes, and these ashes still linger in the air, settled in our lungs. We breathe in and out these ashes. The fire is within us, like a flame that never goes out. What does someone who hasn’t seen fire know? What do they know of the iron hearts of these people?
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