The guys didn't let us play war, they say we — girls — will spoil everything for them. None of them explained exactly how we could spoil the «war». However, we definitely believed that this was some very important game. My dad had to come and scold the guys for not taking us. Scowled, the guys reluctantly put sticks in our hands that were supposed to serve as weapons, — and in a moment they were looking for a way to throw us out of the game the fastest. Under his father's watchful eye, we were treated, of course, not badly, but as soon as he turned away or walked away in his business — us, so to speak, «were killed» with a fictional shot in the back, and we had to lie on the grass for the rest of the game. Wow, how many years did it take me to understand this exact metaphor of «civilized supervision».

Oh, guys, maybe we should have let us in. And maybe then everything would have become clear earlier. Then it would be possible to learn to distinguish real evil from the political game —, that is, not even to distinguish, but to distinguish in time.

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In the picture of photographer Nazar Furyk, a boy is playing with toy soldiers on the steps of the Maidan. He concentrates them in several rows of — against each other. Nearby — adults who love someone, wait for someone, lost someone. They demand, ask, beg, hope. This is the third anniversary of the crime in Olenivka that the Russians committed against our unarmed military. A vile, shameful and, as it turned out, quite permissible crime in our world. This boy is here — with one of these people, and there are no random people here that day. And the stairs of the Maidan — are not just granite. And the game, which was supposed to be a refuge from reality, turns into a gesture of memory.

The photo is so full, oversaturated. At the time when I was little and the boys did not take us to play war, there was nothing special about it at all. The boy places soldiers on the stairs carefully, as if someone once taught him that all things need a certain order or order. This is the order: here — is the front line, here — is the rear, and here — is a child who learns or already knows why soldiers stand and do not go home.

And here — toy soldiers are lined up as they should. As it should be before the battle. He is playing something that has long ceased to be a game in his generation — as it was in mine. How we asked and cried for the boys to take us into the game. And now — what?

A boy playing with soldiers seems at first such an accurate reflection of the modern world. But no. No. It's a — dramatization: war has never depended on how modern the world is.

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Photo: Nazar Furyk
Text: Vira Kuriko