I once started a post on how I watched a Ukrainian taxi driver and a bunch of kids in Kabul in a documentary on BBC world flying kites, but never quite finished it.
After today, I know what exactly it would mean to be able to enjoy such a simple pleasure in a war ravaged land.
We live out our mundane lives, going through the routines and fall into the trap of cocooning ourselves in the fragile fibers of misplaced sense of security. With our plum jobs and good earnings we assume that we have a parachute ready to open if we suddenly face a nosedive and a plush cushion to land gently into.
Seldom do we realize that it is all make believe. We are as fragile as our prehistoric ancestors who did not have the courage to climb down the trees even to drink water. When we get hit by anything unexpected we are too shell-shocked to realize that we are the ones who have been setting us up for such a shock.
I would not go into the details of the events of today, but the extent to which it has shocked has left me feeling as helpless as Nero's ministers would be feeling when they reported to him that Rome was burning, and he played with his fiddle. (Well that's not an entirely true historical fact, but we are not into that business anyway)
But after all this I realize that it was never them (the Nero's around me) but only me who has set myself up for such a disappointment. Its not that I didn't try to prevent it, but it was never easy when you have a "Chopat Raja" at the helm.
The sense of despair cannot be more complete and the helplessness not more profound than I felt today. But it also suddenly reminded me of the feeling that I had then when I started writing that post on the Ukrainian taxi driver in Kabul. I could not quite understand what keeps him to stay in that barren land which is now full of only land mines and have rains of ballistic missiles.
Today I can relate to his resolve to stay on, despite the grievous threats that he and his family members face. He was never born into the country but he chose it as his home. He chose it and he stuck through it during thick and thin. Others who never made that choice could be reluctant to stay on and face the onslaught. They wouldn't believe that there would be ever an end to the turmoil in their land. But the taxi driver on the other hand, has that optimism that comes from the surety of conviction.
It may be the darkest before the dawn and it may take an eternity to pass, but at the end my dear, the darkest hour always passes.
After today, I know what exactly it would mean to be able to enjoy such a simple pleasure in a war ravaged land.
We live out our mundane lives, going through the routines and fall into the trap of cocooning ourselves in the fragile fibers of misplaced sense of security. With our plum jobs and good earnings we assume that we have a parachute ready to open if we suddenly face a nosedive and a plush cushion to land gently into.
Seldom do we realize that it is all make believe. We are as fragile as our prehistoric ancestors who did not have the courage to climb down the trees even to drink water. When we get hit by anything unexpected we are too shell-shocked to realize that we are the ones who have been setting us up for such a shock.
I would not go into the details of the events of today, but the extent to which it has shocked has left me feeling as helpless as Nero's ministers would be feeling when they reported to him that Rome was burning, and he played with his fiddle. (Well that's not an entirely true historical fact, but we are not into that business anyway)
But after all this I realize that it was never them (the Nero's around me) but only me who has set myself up for such a disappointment. Its not that I didn't try to prevent it, but it was never easy when you have a "Chopat Raja" at the helm.
The sense of despair cannot be more complete and the helplessness not more profound than I felt today. But it also suddenly reminded me of the feeling that I had then when I started writing that post on the Ukrainian taxi driver in Kabul. I could not quite understand what keeps him to stay in that barren land which is now full of only land mines and have rains of ballistic missiles.
Today I can relate to his resolve to stay on, despite the grievous threats that he and his family members face. He was never born into the country but he chose it as his home. He chose it and he stuck through it during thick and thin. Others who never made that choice could be reluctant to stay on and face the onslaught. They wouldn't believe that there would be ever an end to the turmoil in their land. But the taxi driver on the other hand, has that optimism that comes from the surety of conviction.
It may be the darkest before the dawn and it may take an eternity to pass, but at the end my dear, the darkest hour always passes.
