War brings wounds, peace brings puzzles.
Kill them all to save them all.
That was his daily mantra as I saw him pacing in that ward.
I was told that he was a soldier with a heart of a warrior. He lost his mind to a war but war failed to make him lose his heart. He was talking from his heart as I perceived his mantra.
Everyone knew he had seen what most of us even can’t imagine. Someone once said that living after seeing a war is hard; memories of death and dying even can kill those who had survived
One day I found him calmer and sitting up in a chair. I asked him about his mantra. He looked at me, smiled and got up. I heard then what I had heard before; war brings wounds, peace brings puzzles, kill them all to save them all.
To some, an experience of war brings them to a place, where mind just can’t lead and heart lose its language.
Others live on as tales of warriors; when heads rise, hearts sink, souls fly and bodies get counted with a pride.
I know now what I knew then; he was one of those.
