How sad! I imagine the day the war at Aleppo began. Some young woman would have planned to be wedded the following weekend. A boy would have hoped to recover his debts from his friends the following day at school. A teacher would have prepared his lesson notes, a preacher had straightened out his sermon journal. All these were normal until that morning when the stranglehold was laid on the land which once was peaceful but now has grown familiar to a toast of blood as drink. It has now gulped countless million-litres of blood of more than three hundred thousand human beings and stripped shelter off over several millions of defenseless others.
And so, a day became two; two days became a week and a week, a month. The wedding was postponed, later cancelled. The farm became a dangerous place to visit and the school became a butcher field. The pride of humanity was stolen and the peaceful city became an altar of senseless unacceptable sacrifice simply because some people have decided to prove their power status and massage their desperate egos.
When the man makes his decisions, they are not predetermined but their consequences rather, are. The men start the war in defense of what a humble apology would have solved–claiming to protect a pride that was never there or theirs, a pride that gets deflated with the tip of a bullet. When the war begins, the weaker men who started the trouble are killed, their wives captured and the children suffer. The innocent suffer for the wrong choices of the “rash”. The real victims of war are not those who fight it but those who are left when the war is over.
These children here in this emotional piece of art (rendered in charcoal) are the real V.O.W (Victims of War).
Such thoughts and imaginations as these birthed the picture above. With tears welling up in my eyes at the thoughtlessness of our selfish emptiness, I present:
Title: Victims of War (Part 2) Medium: Charcoal on Canvas Size: 2ft X 3ft Year: 2014
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