London is showing it's true colours.The sun has started playing hide and seek with us.I walked back at eight thirty after my duty to a confused twilight sky which had never quite looked like it.It was like the night sky in my camelin water colour canvas,angry,beautiful with spots of cloud grey and confused, pushing aside the streaks of the daylight sun which was out to outdo the night for some extra time.I took out my mobile and captured it and shared it with my friends.
It was a strange day indeed.A man in his seventy revisitng the trauma of the second world war-living mementoes of man losing reason.More than fifty years later he remembers the events with tears in his eyes.It is never too old, is it?
.A youth,out in the trenches running for cover, away from the booming of the gun and death with his legless best friend held in his arm,reached the safety of his allies rescue troop only to realise that his friend had long been gone.
He wept bitterly even as he recollected how soldiers were crying even as they killed people.
I asked him if he has a support group and he told me he had been to one.
He had never seen a psychiatrist after that.
He is an atheist.I couldn't help exclaiming.'No wonder!'
If he had come to me in India,I would have pulled my chair and listened to his story,would have counselled him ,would have shared the gospel with him ,would have prayed with him and would have connected him to a church group.But I am not in India,I am in United Kingdoms.
I can only cry with him and make him wonder why I do.
He even apologised for burdening me with his pain.
It made me realise that after a decade or so the face of the United Kingdoms would be poorer without these war veterans.
It was a strange day indeed.A man in his seventy revisitng the trauma of the second world war-living mementoes of man losing reason.More than fifty years later he remembers the events with tears in his eyes.It is never too old, is it?
.A youth,out in the trenches running for cover, away from the booming of the gun and death with his legless best friend held in his arm,reached the safety of his allies rescue troop only to realise that his friend had long been gone.
He wept bitterly even as he recollected how soldiers were crying even as they killed people.
I asked him if he has a support group and he told me he had been to one.
He had never seen a psychiatrist after that.
He is an atheist.I couldn't help exclaiming.'No wonder!'
If he had come to me in India,I would have pulled my chair and listened to his story,would have counselled him ,would have shared the gospel with him ,would have prayed with him and would have connected him to a church group.But I am not in India,I am in United Kingdoms.
I can only cry with him and make him wonder why I do.
He even apologised for burdening me with his pain.
It made me realise that after a decade or so the face of the United Kingdoms would be poorer without these war veterans.
Comments