The world’s on fire, and I’m at peace in America

I don't mean to sound blissfully ignorant or cynical. In fact, I’ve had a tough week, mostly for personal reasons. No serious problems, but overwhelmed by the challenge of supporting and managing a large family across multiple geographies. Also, my foot injury from running resurfaced, damn it! It robbed me of my life’s biggest pleasure for three days now this week.

And of course, I wasn’t ignorant of the current affairs, of all the shit that’s happening in the world. Early in the week, I experienced the feeling that keeps hitting me like some recurring disease, once every few weeks. Reading the news about Putin’s mobilization announcement I felt sick, literally. My throat got tight. I’m not being dramatic. Putin’s insanity is not affecting me directly. But every now and then I’m reminded of how Russia’s surreal, senseless war is continuing to bring hell to tens of millions of people, across different countries. I’ve not visited Russia since I left it in 2013. I have no feelings for my “ex” (country) but then I’m not indifferent to it either. I guess I’m contradicting myself. I mean I’m not indifferent to the dramatic events that are affecting so many. And I still have close friends in Russia. And I have relatives in Ukraine.

It’s fucking sickening.

But then it passes. I even avoided writing about the news of Russia’s “partial” mobilization though I sure had many emotional exchanges with my close few close friends (two are in Russia) and my Mom who’s now with me in America.