Raunaq Mohapatra, who lives in Mani Ratnam apartments near Chinar Park, has a very close Ukrainian friend stuck in the war-torn country. They were colleagues in the Maldives till the pandemic forced them to quit their jobs and part ways. He has been calling and texting her ever since the war broke out and Asiiat Omarzhanova is replying as and when she has access to electricity to charge her phone. Raunaq shares with The Telegraph Salt Lake what he has learnt of the harrowing experience Asiiat is going through —
Sleep used to be very important to Asiiat. I would party late into the night but she would be in bed by 10. And now, she has barely slept in weeks, what with the constant hollering of air raid alerts, the sound of fighter jets zooming over her home and bombs exploding outside.
Asiiat and I were colleagues at a hotel in the Maldives. We had met at a New Year’s eve party in December 2018 and started dating soon afterwards. Then the pandemic happened and we took rescue flights to our own countries. I haven’t seen her after 2020 but ever since this war broke out have been worried sick about her.
Bombs in the block
Asiiat found out her country was at war on looking out of her window and seeing her street being bombed.
She used to work in the Ukrainian capital but after the explosions in her lane, she packed what she could and left the city for her parents’ place. She won’t tell me where that is as she fears their calls and messages are being monitored.
She says her parents’ house is in a small, quiet place but even this town is getting constant air raid alerts and they are asked to switch off lights by early evening to avoid attracting fighter planes.
Their electricity is often out for two or three days in a row so her phone goes out of charge and she cannot speak or text me for long intervals. Their only access to the news is a radio they have. Water is scarce and they are queuing up for hours to buy it. They have enough food but the ATM machines dispense limited cash.
Asiiat even got Covid in the middle of the war. She isolated herself in a room, along with her cat. Her family members have been trying to sleep in turns but it’s not easy when you know a bomb can drop on you any time.
Kyiv then and now
Back in the day, Asiiat would talk fondly of Kyiv. There was a beautiful park near Saint Sophia Cathedral that she would frequent. She would send pictures of her family barbecue trips there.
But now she says there are either bodies or debris lying all around. The coffee shop she would hang out in is down to rubble and the buildings that still stand are deserted. She is cut off from her friends as they have scrambled to wherever they could find shelter. She fears for their lives.
Indo-Pak parallel
Back in the Maldives, we had colleagues from all over the world. Asiiat was great friends with a Russian girl called
Marina Pankova. They shared a similar culture and bonded naturally.
Asiiat loved Russian music. Her favourite song was one called Childhood by a pair of Russian twins called Rauf & Faik. I, too, loved the song when she introduced me to it. In fact, on my right arm I have a tattoo of Asiiat’s name and on my left arm I have the first verse of this song tattooed.
Russia-Ukraine relations have parallels with the India-Pakistan one. In the Maldives, I had a Pakistani colleague and we were friends too. During cricket matches, we would taunt each other but it was all in jest. We were friends no matter what our politicians were hatching. Similarly, there are many Russians who are protesting the war too. The animosity is only political.
I have been asking Asiiat to come to India to escape the war but despite the hardships, she doesn’t want to leave her country. She doesn’t want to think ahead into the future, just wants to live another day.
Do you have a Ukraine story to share? Write to us at saltlake@abp.in
