The Story inside a Story (I)

Once, not so long ago, there was a time when planes were flying and I with them- from tournament to tournament, from city to city, from country to country… 

Croatia, Serbia, Romania, Germany, Montenegro, Moldova, Monaco, Isle of Man, Georgia, Poland, Russia, Emirates, Belgium, Spain, Gibraltar- that’s how my last September to March looked like… That’s how my life looked like for the last 10 years or so... I think I have never been stranded home for such a long time- 2 months and counting…

I remember myself complaining during the last tournaments I played that I’m too tired, that I really need a break and that I miss “normal” life. Now I have so much normal life that I don’t know where to run away from it! Where, where? At home! Quarantine!

After more than 2 months of self-isolation, I can make a thorough analysis of how it went by. Went, right! Today- it is the first day of “freedom”! Today I could go anywhere but I’m celebrating it by staying home! Isn’t it original?

Phase 1- Provisions!

As almost every (in)sane person- when the pandemic started, the first thing I did was to buy all kind of carbohydrates- flour, cans, juice, chocolate, alcohol… Although, to be honest, I didn’t need them, I’m from the category which has an extra bottle or box of anything at home, just in case- I still have some cheap bottles of pre quarantine disinfectant…

Phase 2- Chill, darling!

When I found myself ready to survive half a year without getting out of my place, I started to ask myself “Do I really want to survive it?”, “Do I want a life like this?”… To get away from these questions, I started to occupy myself with only the things I liked and missed while at tournaments- read novels, listen to music for hours, watching TV series and cooking shows, sleeping 12h, learning “Deutsch” (yeah, I take great pleasure in learning it for already 10 years or so, but stubbornly not speaking under any circumstances)… 

Phase 3- Sweeten your bitterness!

After exhausting all Netflix’s cooking shows, I felt I was a ‘chef’! Every day, I had a new kind of breakfast: pancakes, avocado toasts, banana & cereal biscuits, endless ways of cooked eggs… Then I started making new and new desserts: banana bread, sweet potato brownie, tiramisu… And here is where the story inside the story begins!

Tiramisu- the easiest and tastiest dessert!

Let’s take a plane and travel back in time- January 2020- Gibraltar.



(To be continued...) 

In(di)visible Dust

Days come and days go... 


We live, work, love, hate and the years pass one by one leaving wrinkles on our faces; noticing them in the mirror, we only become more desperate in making sure to have tried all the pallet of experiences and emotions... We want to look at our reflections and have a likeable explanation for all the small faults... If the explanations are not good enough, one can always ‘erase’ the memory the wrinkle stands for. Right, erasing memories is as easy as that nowadays! Isn’t it funny how we’re so desperate to live, to experience, just to become even more desperate later, trying to make all the signs of it go away!


However, the problem lies in the fact that it’s not the ‘surface’ faults that make us ugly and old...

It’s more and more often that you see someone so beautifully ‘wrapped’- sparkling with beauty and intelligence, even warm hearted and humble and you’re so thrilled to discover that ‘beauty’, thanking the Universe for having sent a ‘bright’ soul into your way for a change!


There are 3 ways the situation can progress...


The ‘shiny’ soul is a true diamond... You bath in its sparkle and beauty and it feels sooo good... There’s no bigger pleasure and sense of fulfilment in this World! You even feel like you borrow some shine yourself, blinding the other people with it, therefore proudly making and wearing new wrinkles...


Another possibility is that you yourself get blinded by the shine and it’s well known that one who can not see with his eyes will ‘see’ in other ways... One might discover the wrinkles of his own soul; what can be more painful than that- to suddenly be aware of all the ‘ugliness’ within when there are ‘diamonds’ shining all around...


What if the ‘diamond’ turns to be a fake though? Do you continue your ‘treasure hunt’? Is it worth seeking light when all it can do is just blind? Isn’t it better to teach yourself that ugliness is actually the true beauty?


I sometimes think that diamonds are also the happiest all black and dirty, happily disguised into a piece of ordinary rock. No one wears a dirty rock, but how many diamonds end up in captivity?

Eternity you might say... Diamonds ‘live’ forever! I would always choose to be a rock, one that could be easily broken into a thousand pieces, but all those little pieces would be free, even if torn into invisible dust!


There’s nothing a diamond can be envied for... To be a prisoner of THIS World forever, to shine and blind the ‘hopeless’ or the ‘hopeful’, is it really a life to choose?


Everyone is free to give his own answer, as long as they haven’t traded shine for freedom... Or was it the other way?

A Russian Story- Part 4

The ‘F’ Word

A lifetime 'relationship' with chess...

„Why are your hands trembling?”, my roommate asked. It reminded me of a somewhat similar conversation some weeks before.

While being at the European Blitz and Rapid Championships in Monaco, someone asked me how I could be so calm when playing on the top boards. I remember answering with a satisfied smile that there were no reasons to be nervous as long as I was not spending a cent out of my pocket, I could only gain- either experience or both money and experience... Moscow didn’t feel even like a fake smile.

Still, the ‚trembling hands’ managed to win the 1st game of the last day in a really nice style vs Muzychuk Mariya.

Breathing became harder and harder...

The first loss of the tournament followed. Funnily enough, it came while playing against a friend. I made a very difficult to understand move at some point. It was so bad, I had absolutely no chances after... I was very disappointed, very... The only consolation was the fact that I was still on the 3rd place and I would have white in the last 2 games, as they had to level me the colors.

The first white was a quick draw. Thought it was wise to ensure myself a prize and also have some time to rest before the last, decisive round.

In the end, I might have had too much time... It is still difficult to dig in all the „why-s” and „if-s”. I was never before so close to such an outstanding result, but all must happen for the 1st time, right?

Got white indeed against Pogonina, an opponent I have already played against before. She had half point less than me. I played badly, she played well, I lost...

It is difficult to describe how I felt afterwards, when realizing a win would guarantee me a tie for the 1st place and a tie break which even if lost would leave me on the 2nd place, with 30k in my pocket...

I guess it is enough to say that a sleepless night followed, one where every decision was analyzed and doubted.

In the spirit of my trip’s motto, I think I will keep the conclusions to myself this time.

Time to move on now.

A Russian Story- Part 3

The Chinese Wall

Photo by Maria Emelianova, my edit

The 2^nd day culminated with me trying to break through the ‘Chinese Wall’, Lei and Tan, against both with the black pieces. The game against Lei was one which I’ll probably have nightmares about for a long time... I played some aggressive line, thought I had a good position, but my opponent was actually the one playing very well. Lost a pawn and went for an endgame with some drawing chances. My opponent couldn’t find a plan to convert her advantage but neither did she want to settle for a draw... It was her time to blunder a pawn, but a very important one this time. I won another pawn a few moves later. Liquidated to a totally winning N vs B endgame, my pawn could just become a queen had I realized my king was to make a sprint to the 2^nd rank rather than trying to win all the pawns... Draw.

The Norwegian TV was there, they were probably expecting me to win- to be the sensation of the day... They asked for an interview anyway. Smiling to the camera while planting my nails deep into my palms was not the worst preparation for the next game against yet another Chinese.

Lei - Bulmaga

The game vs Tan was the last one for the day. I was hoping to somehow survive it and just go for dinner. After some 15 moves, I totally disliked my position, it was the result of my making the 2^nd move of my calculation instead of the 1^st one... I was tired, emotionally and physically. Made quite an effort and outplayed my opponent despite everything. Saw that I could win a pawn and there would be no real threats she could make vs my king, but noticed that I can take the same pawn in a different way and force a draw, she’d have nothing better than to go for a perpetual. Didn’t think about it twice and a draw it was. Unfortunately, I did not realize how big my advantage would be in the other variation...

I was still sharing the lead with Lei, though wasn’t sure how to feel. From one point of view, I was really disappointed I couldn’t bring to the logical end so many games, especially the one vs Lei. From another point, I never played so well in my life anyway...

“The 3^rd day will be the decisive one!”.

(To be continued)

A Russian Story- Part 2

Breathing Exercise

Photo by Maria Emelianova (my edit)

Woke up to a good mood and some bad weather. “Four rounds today- would be nice to start with a win!”. All the non chess thoughts were forgotten.

Won the first game in style, slowly outplaying my opponent in an equal endgame. Won the 2^nd game with some uninspired attack which proved to be good enough... The 3^rd game was a roller coaster- had a terrible position, but a lot of time, which in the end turned to be the decisive factor- 3/3. In the 4^th game I used an old but mighty weapon, my opponent had a hard time in the opening, went for a slightly worse endgame which I slowly but steadily won- 4/4. 

I could not even imagine such a good start! It wasn’t only about the result itself, but about the overall quality of the games as well. I made no blunders, my brain would produce plans quickly, I was very inspired in my opening choices... Those were all good signs.

A dinner at a nice Georgian restaurant followed. “Tomorrow will be more difficult...”.

The next morning, scrolling through the news I was reading “Irina Bulmaga of Romania in the lead with a perfect score...” Some supportive messages started to come as well- most of them written in a very patriotic style- “Hai Irina! Hai Romania!”.

The 2^nd day was more difficult indeed.

Made a draw in the 5^th round after playing very well with the black pieces. Outplayed my opponent but ran quite low on time and let it slip. Made a move with just one second on the clock, nearly had a heart attack when realising it, but managed to simplify everything and draw.

When looking at the pairings of the 6^th round, saw ‘Koneru’ next to my name. “What do you think?”, my roommate asked. “Pff, Petroff...” While sitting at the board I contemplated the possibilities... “You can start the game now!”, the arbiter said bringing me back to reality- 1.e4- e5. “F*** everyone!" was the motto of my coming to Moscow, right? – 2.d4. Got a winning position after barely making 10 moves and went on to convert it successfully. 

I won against the number 3 in the World, and as it would turn out later, the future Champion...

Photo by Maria Emelianova (edited by myself)

What a dream it would be to start competing against all these top players fighting for the crown! I proved I can win against them in rapid, in blitz… Will I get a chance to do so in classical chess?

Breathe Irina, breathe!

(To be continued)

A Russian Story- Part 1

Don’t cry for me, Romania!

Photo by Maria Emelianova

To go, not to go, to go?

Moscow... World Rapid and Blitz Championships. I had promised myself to play this time. Watching the live transmission from St. Petersburg 2018 I cursed myself at least a dozen times for not being there; promised myself to play after finishing 8th at the European Blitz Championship in Monaco once again...

 „I must go then.”

„Dear Irina,/ Unfortunately...”- a great start of the answer I got from the Federation about my upcoming trip to Moscow... „They don’t believe in me, maybe I should not go after all...”. It is a bit funny how being young, one doesn’t believe in himself even though people keep telling him how capable and talented he is. A few years later though, things tend to change- no one seems to believe you’re capable of any progress, while your belief in yourself grows exponentially day by day... „F*** everyone, I will go!”.

A few clicks later, I was registered in the tournament and had a ticket.

There’s a sort of going back to my childhood every time I come to Russia. Why? Well, even though I was born in an independent Moldova, the Soviet reminiscences were still there. People had a hard time forgetting the horrors of War but also the little guilty pleasures borrowed from Russia stayed in Moldova until nowadays. Eating „sirniki” , „borodinski” bread and „borshi” are to this day my biggest pleasures. That’s why I always have mixed feelings coming here, it’s like being able to have all I wanted as a kid without the need of any adult consent!

Any guesses on what I did on my first evening after landing in Moscow? Had some „borshi” of course! With a full stomach and a warmed heart, I went to bed. Sleeping proved to be a difficult task though- uneasy thoughts were assaulting my brain „I will show them it was a mistake not to support my coming here!” , „What if I play badly?”, „Why do I always have to prove something?”, „Will there be a Romanian flag next to me tomorrow?”,  „Maybe it was better never to leave home...”

A little tear made it’s way to the pillow... 

They say Moscow does not believe in tears... Romania, do you?

(To be continued)

The IOM Chronicles- Part 3

   Manly Smiles

   The free day proved to be a very enjoyable one- it was the last sunny day on the island… Visited two castles, bought some souvenirs, took a lot of photos and also had some time to think about what was going wrong and how to make things get better in the second half of the tournament. 

   As a small incursion into the story- I really like travelling, no matter of the means of transport, airplane, train, bus- as long as I have a cozy sit by the window and some headphones, I really don’t mind. During these trips I usually get a lot of ideas, some of them later coming to life here…

   I felt like giving this explanation because for the most of the ‘serious’ chess players, a rest day spent on buses from a town to another and from a castle to another is just a big waste of valuable energy. It was not the case for me… I came back to Douglas with a big dose of inspiration and an even bigger appetite (for both chess & food)! So, a dinner with some teammates and friends came very handy. When the waiter asked for our orders I couldn’t resist the temptation of ordering duck, not well cooked- rare! A teammate asked if I was sure, suggesting I’d take it medium, but no- I wasn’t ‘chicken’ anymore, I was in mood for some blood!

   Went to bed in good spirits, looking forward to my next day’s game with white.

   Sitting at the board confidently I knew it was just the right time to improve my tournament’s position. Went all in and got winning chances quite quickly, but- ‘chicken’ or ‘duck’- it just wasn’t meant to be… Sacrificed a piece incorrectly, played on for like 4 hours, but just to resign at the end… My opponent shook my hand giving me an almost guilty smile. I turned tomato red, felt some tears coming to my eyes, but quickly remembered I was not 10, not even 20 anymore, pulled myself together and smiled back, gathering my belongings from the table one by one… Chocolate, nuts, juice, cola and a heavy sigh…

The evening wasn’t the nicest one- my roommate lost as well and even the jokes we tried to pull off were not triggering even a smile… The toughest was the feeling that everyone felt sorry for you. But as a friend told me- I am vaccinated- after last Olympiad's 5 losses in a row, it is very difficult to take me down, I have learned to draw my energy from despair, though it’s definitely not a skill I’d like to use too often…

Four more games. While the ‘mating’ hope never dies, I decided to put on the ugliest dress for the next round- in a sign of protest- against the winning manly smiles and the forced ambitions adjustments…

A woman in a state of despair is a dangerous thing, even in chess… Won two games in a row, felt a shy flame of hope again…

The first castle we visited on the free day was one mostly used as a prison and as a place of torture. Well, my play in the Grand Swiss can be described also as a "prisoner’s" one- when I’d just see a ship out of my cell’s window, a black flag would be risen…

Another 2 losses followed- the last two… in that tournament… this year…

It was time to go back to my cell, until I’d see another ship which would maybe set me free or maybe not…