In a parallel universe, I accept an invitation for a literary residency and finish my book. Writing is my job. I don’t dream of policies, spreadsheets, and fundraisers.
Many things much more significant do and don’t take place in a parallel universe. For example,
V.A. finishes her book herself, travels the world, and raises her powerful voice to fight for justice. A Russian missile doesn’t kill her. We don’t spend night hours editing her drafts.
Activist O.S. fights developers and local kleptocracy to preserve the capital’s cultural heritage. His legs are intact because his vehicle doesn’t run over an anti-tank mine.
Young academic M.S. opens her publishing house. Her husband earns shitloads of money in IT. He doesn’t enlist. She doesn’t spend all her resources on procuring drones and helmets.
Translator O.K. keeps translating from ancient and modern languages the likes of Aristotle and Karl Jaspers. A Russian soldier doesn’t fire from a rocket launcher at a private house in Irpin setting ablaze its resident, translator O.K.
D.D. raises her two kids, a disabled son and a daughter who looks like Burton’s Wednesday, with the support of her large family. Her husband’s sushi kiosk grows into a restaurant. D.D. finishes her PhD. She doesn’t have to flee from Zaporizhzhia to the Czech Republic and start everything from scratch.
M.M. works as a journalist. She doesn’t imagine dead kids when she revisits a village school every two months for her documentary.
A.S. writes for theatre, performs, and produces films that win international awards. He doesn’t have a tic. He doesn’t spend 2.5 years of his twenties on the frontline.
V.C. lives.
V.Z. lives.
V.V. lives.
D.K. lives.
D.A. lives.
S.Z. lives.
O.P.-K. lives.
A.P. lives.
A.H. lives.
A.F. lives.
Y.H. lives.
Y.S. lives.
I.S. lives.
R.B. lives.
I.O. lives.
O.S. lives.
A.D. lives.
P.L. lives.
I.T. lives.
V.O. lives.
S.P. lives.
A.S. lives.
O.O. lives.
R.R. lives.
Y.K. lives.
A.F. lives.
V.P. lives.
K.S. lives.
In a parallel universe, Russia is a bad dream from which we all are happy to wake up. In reality, we have to stop daydreaming and get to work instead. It’s genocide o’clock. Ending it and serving justice is the responsibility of those left standing.
Hi, Dr. Sasha, let me know if I can contribute somehow, or do a written interview with you for my blog.
A touching account; I wonder about the same often.
What if?
What if we could live without this huge black hole constantly sucking our lives, energy, and time away?
I remember Ukrainian writer Oleksandr Mykhed wrote in "The Language of War" that Ukrainian history is the history of absences, constant "reset" buttons. We rarely inherit anything; it feels like starting from scratch over and over again. Our history is a history of "could be"s, but also of "despite." It keeps going, despite.