He whispered as the nurses dragged his dead mother away, forgetting one of her amputated limbs. He cried soundlessly as the army troopers stepped over his strategically wounded father, a “mis-aimed” bullet through his defiant brain. A nurse played with his hair, another wiped his parents’ blood from his starved sunken in chest.But no one seemed to feel the pain that he did, because their families, mothers and fathers ,were safe back home. And this child was just one of the few who would die today. The nurses laid him down on the hard chair, expecting him to fall asleep. And he did very deeply..never to wake again.
Only the photographer, whose camera’s lens was his only expression listened and heard. And didn’t let the boy’s words go unheard, as the cries of his country did.