Glory to Ukraine!

"I been to Delhi," he said slowly gathering the words.  English is not his first language.  Nor his second.  Perhaps not even his third.

"It was in 1978.  I spent only one day.  A driver drove me around."

I told him that I would help him remember the different touristy spots.  I showed him a few photos from my couple of days there in 2012.

With every photo, his eyes lit up more and more.  It was clear that he was reliving that day in his mind.

I wondered whether he made it to Agra.  I pulled up the photo of the Taj Mahal.

He blew a kiss, and his smile was wider than the country itself.

She, on the other hand, had a different kind of a favorite memory of India.  "We loved watching Indian movies," she said, clearly demonstrating familiarity and confidence with the alien language.

"My favorite was about two girls who were twins."

I asked her when it was that she watched the movie.  She said it was perhaps forty years ago.

I knew right away the movie that she was referring to.  Seeta Aur Geeta.  And its glorious songs, like this one.

"Was it Seeta and Geeta?" I asked her.

"Yes, that's the movie."

That was five months ago, when we had the pleasure of hosting them for dinner on a cold fall evening.  We talked about their lives, our lives, their country, and about India.

"It is cold," I remarked.

"You call this cold? Hah!  You should come to our country.  You will see what cold means!"  She laughed.

Now, it is almost a month since Putin launched an unprovoked and unjustifiable war on their country.  The country that they love.  The country to which they have dedicated all their waking hours ever since the fall of the Soviet Union.

Five months ago, I did not think then that there would be a war, even though he was sure that it was coming.  To him, it was not "if" but "when" Russia would launch a full-fledged war.

Until a month ago, I never considered the possibility that we might not meet again.  There are dark moments when I worry that we might never hear from them again.  Every morning, I fear that a WhatsApp message would deliver the tragic news.  We worry about them every day.  We hope that they will be safe.  

War is hell.