On August 24, 2022, the Ukrainian authorities arranged a show of destroyed Russian armed vehicles in Khreshchatyk — the main street of Kyiv. The timing couldn't be more perfect. Ukraine marked its first Independence Day since the Kremlin launched a full-scale war exactly half a year ago — on February 24.

The Kyiv officials displayed captured enemy machinery as a substitute for the Independence Day parade. It usually takes place in Khreshchatyk and was cancelled in 2022 due to the war.

At the same time, the Ukrainian authorities intended to mock the Russians. The invaders believed in seizing Ukraine's capital in three or four days and planned a victory parade as a spectacle of strength by the Putin regime.

The pop-up attraction lured passers-by, who could use all their senses to inspect the once murderous weaponry and take a selfie with the physical evidence of the aggression in the background.

Walking down the aisles of the parody parade, I often saw people — mostly young boys — staring down the barrels of tanks. They seemed to play “you wouldn't dare” with themselves, expressing the universal human curiosity for threatening things.

Peeping into a weapon, which you know for sure is no longer lethal, roughly reminded me of going to a haunted house or watching a horror film. Horror film audiences consciously subject themselves to fear to attain pleasure. They are not exposed to real threats. However, the events depicted in a film trigger survival circuits that automatically respond to fake hazards. Our mind evaluates the context. If it is safe, you get a sense of relief. Your reward is an infusion of adrenaline and a sense of mastery over the horror.

Khreshchatyk, crammed with Russian tanks — deprived of their ability to kill and endowed with a capacity to entertain — suddenly became the epicentre of a deceptive feeling. It seemed like the war was over, although the air raid alarms sounded seven times in Kyiv on Independence Day.

Kyiv regained some semblance of normalcy soon after Ukrainian forces repelled Russia's initial assault. The capital found itself in an uncomfortable position of becoming a spectator in the war that continues to rage in the east and south.

The mock parade intensified the pleasant yet dangerous deception. Aimed as a celebration substitute with a therapeutic potential to give the nation a confidence boost, it could also work like a sleeping pill, lulling you into a false sense of safety.

When you look at burnt-out machinery, your “reality check” system may erroneously evaluate the context as safe. Tempted to think the victory is ours, you tend to forget that the war is on.

Seeking for safe thrills, one can stare down the barrel of an enemy tank that has not been neutralised yet. But it can blow your head off in no time.