At some moment, when the car goes downhill on the asphalt of the mountain-slope, or is making a curve passing over the gorge, Karabakh invades your territory, surprisingly and without a warning. That moment can only accidentally coincide with the appearance of the sign “Free Artsakh Welcomes You”. It doesn’t have anything to do with the marked and unmarked, recognized and unrecognized borders.

Karabakh starts where you suddenly feel the spirit of Artsakh as soon as you carefully put the palm of your hand on your chest.

There is amazing tranquility on this land. It starts at the rocky peaks and in the mountainous forests, stretches to the fertile greenery in the humid fields, thickens in the sweet mulberry gardens, and the branches gather like roots in the fruitful gardens. In that tranquility, the “fog” of war “takes a shower”, never appearing in its entirety, unnoticed, with movements that can’t be seen, calm and dangerous like a snake. You know a careless movement is enough for that soft snake to instantly turn into a steel, clattering dragon, and the “fog” will turn into stone…

Almost everyone is analyzing this war, as well as the political and economic realities that are leading to its emergence and are taking place around that. Of course, they are important and practical analyses. However, amid all this, the most important thing for me is the spirit. I have to repeat that I am not a romantic person. I am a very pragmatic person, a chess player, an economist and analyst, and I tell you that the most amazing thing in this war, the serious guarantee of victory and our advantage is the unbreakable and inexhaustible spirit.

Every Armenian of Artsakh knows that the war is “awake”, even if there are no shootings, and they are also awake and ready. At the hottest moment of the horror, they are strangely and inexplicably excited that is close to (this might sound strange) joy, the joy of being alive, the joy of winning and the joy of seeing their parents, brothers, children strong and invincible. I understand this feeling well, and one of my idols, Martin Luther King formulate this correctly and wonderfully when he said the following: “If you have not found something for which you can die in your life, then what is the value of your life?”

…The full, long and tiring working day was over, and we were on our way to eat Armenian barbecue at the home of Nayiri Arustamyan in Martakert. The smiling and risible Nayiri, whose close ones call “Nayirik”, participated in the first Karabakh war when he was a teen. The boys of the past and today of the “Third Heroic Defense Battle” for Martakert continue to live and remember their legendary commander, Avo (Monte Melkonian). We, “drunk” with the spirit of Karabakh…

We sit around a table at Nayirik’s house. It is the same house in the basement of which Nayirik’s parents and their neighbors took shelter from bombardments during the first war. The shell of the grad system entered through the gate of the house, moved through the door of the basement and killed the nine people who were taking shelter there, including the landlords (Nayirik’s parents) and their relatives. At the time, the landlords’ only son, young Nayiri was on the battlefield, which was located a couple of kilometers away from the house. We were enjoying our active conversation with Nayiri and the wonderful Armenian barbecue in Karabakh when I got a phone call.

• “So, how is Karabakh?” I hear Levon’s voice from a distance…
• I want our first boy’s name to be Monte. What do you say, Levon?” I say.

Love,

Your Ariana

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