The concert in which N. Chepraga, M. Ivanush and — a beginner then — A.
Lazariuk performed Ye. Doga's songs came to an end. Then there were flowers,
asking for authographs, and Doga, his face helpless and naive, was standing
among this tumult. He was being shot for TV, congratulated by his famous colleagues,
who were telling him something kind and reassuring, touching him by the elbow.
Doga was beginning to be appraised for his ownness, to be assumed as himself.
