Short Story: Shadows Across the Dnipro (Part 1)

Dr. Nishi Chawla narrates a poignant tale on refugees and shows us life, as they see it.

The dawn was a shade of gray when Daryna stood at the edge of the Dnipro River, its surface so still that it seemed to mirror her frozen thoughts. She liked to play her bandura, a cross between a harp and guitar, and steeped in Ukrainian history, by the river side. The sky, heavy with the weight of another long night, stretched over the horizon like a veil over a grieving face. There was no comfort in it, no warmth to soften the unyielding cold that wrapped around her chest. Daryna had spent her young life in Kyiv, and now she had to leave it behind. It was a city of memories, of cobblestone streets and golden domes that once gleamed in the sun. The war had turned it into something unrecognizable—a city haunted by shadows.

The Dnipro had always been a constant in her life, a wide, gentle force that flowed past Kyiv, its currents carrying with it the stories of generations. Her mother used to tell her about the legends surrounding the river, about the myth that its waters carried the spirits of the fallen, that their souls became part of the Dnipro’s eternal flow, merging with the tides. Daryna remembered the sound of her mother’s voice, soft and melodic, as they walked by the river when she was still a child. Back then, the water had glistened under the golden sunlight, a testament to Ukraine’s beauty and resilience. Now, though, the river appeared dark, like a mirror to her own despair. The Dnipro had borne witness to centuries of conflict and peace, but now it seemed to carry only the weight of sorrow.