The dead were collected at the town's main theater, of all places. To some this might have been an insolent gesture, but under the wartime circumstances, it was the only facility large enough to accommodate the number of killed. A large crowd gathered around the building. Some were there to collect what was left of their loved ones, many to eyewitness this grim chapter in the town's history. For a long time to come, the cries and screams released by grieving mothers, fathers, wives, sisters, daughters and sons could be heard echoing amidst the foggy hilltops above the town and within empty squares, streets, and parks. Some swear they hear them to this day. Their religion forbade them to seek vengeance and this loss was soon accepted but never forgotten.
Bosnia, 1993
Why is it that people cannot find peace and harmony in the world that forces them to coexist? Isn't the collective future of our human species more important than the trivial land disputes and historical injustices everybody is so concerned with? Why are we forever this small and never look more than ten feet in front and ten minutes ahead? Perhaps our vision and our sense of time have not equipped us for that. But why are we then equipped with abstract notions of what is eventually good for us if we are not capable of attaining it? It seems to be the cosmic injustice, or a joke even, knowing what is good for us but not being able to bring it about. Maybe the process of getting there is what our existence is all about. Maybe we are meant to be at each other's throats for hundreds of generations until we have exterminated enough of ourselves to realize our wrongdoings and eventually find the way of peace, harmony, and compassion. Maybe it all makes sense on some higher cosmic level which we are yet not aware of and are not supposed to be until we are tall enough to see past it.
Bosnia, 1993
Why is it that people cannot find peace and harmony in the world that forces them to coexist? Isn't the collective future of our human species more important than the trivial land disputes and historical injustices everybody is so concerned with? Why are we forever this small and never look more than ten feet in front and ten minutes ahead? Perhaps our vision and our sense of time have not equipped us for that. But why are we then equipped with abstract notions of what is eventually good for us if we are not capable of attaining it? It seems to be the cosmic injustice, or a joke even, knowing what is good for us but not being able to bring it about. Maybe the process of getting there is what our existence is all about. Maybe we are meant to be at each other's throats for hundreds of generations until we have exterminated enough of ourselves to realize our wrongdoings and eventually find the way of peace, harmony, and compassion. Maybe it all makes sense on some higher cosmic level which we are yet not aware of and are not supposed to be until we are tall enough to see past it.