[Buffeted by many kinds of emotions, unable to think straight, eyes and mind clouded again and again with tears and the most tenebrous, threatening emotional clouds — this state of mind has been constant in me since many months. I have not been able to compose myself enough to write political commentary in these tumultuous times on Kafila, as I have always done. Not just because of the disease. I increasingly feel as if I am on my last journey, a forbidding one on a narrow, winding, rough, path up a hill, walking without being able to look left or right, unable to turn or help companions falling on the way behind me. Like Yudhishtira, maybe, but without knowing what lies beyond this mountain path up there.