Dear Readers,
Today I feel overwhelmed with the state of the world. Throughout the week, the looming fear of war in Eastern Europe has now assumed the form of an abominable monster. Now and then, my stomach clenches, my heart seized by existential misery. I feel constant revulsion inside my body, whenever I see videos of missiles hitting Kyiv and mass exodus in the wake of the unfathomable winter that enveloped the terrains and the future of Ukraine. I don’t know who is right and who is wrong, my epiphanies are not groundbreaking, and my empathy might not lead to any change. But I am swaying in and out of the collective pain, and I long for its healing. I can feel everything at once - the loss and separation of the Ukrainians, and the guilt of the Russians. The images of war rubbles spotting the white snowy landscape, and orphaned children left to fend for themselves have left me incapacitated. Although I am a writer and words are the tool of my choice, today I feel the limits of the …