Monday, March 02, 2009

End.

Back to the routine.

I don't have time to follow up on the event anymore, and you have no idea how much I wish I could be doing that as a job and not a side thing. The last few days has put things into perspective for me, personally, and I'm grateful for it.

So here's the final photo on the BDR mutiny.

BDR Mutiny - Aftermath


The BDR soldiers who were not in the compound had to report back. And they did, in droves that blocked up the entire road outside of Rifle Square. I felt strange to be amongst all these soldiers in uniform. Just a few days ago, a sight of a soldier in this uniform was the sight all photographers wanted (and feared) to see. And here they were, surrounding me.

A young man came up to me and Naeem, to ask if we were journalists. I didn't really know what to say, but he assumed it anyway and told us his father was in the BDR, in the queue waiting to get his name taken down.

The look on his face made such an impression on me. The face of a young man trying to be as strong as he possibly could, but the stress was too much and threatening to etch itself onto his face. A face which tried to hide it, but still showed the uncertainty and the worry he had about what will happen to his father. He didn't rant or complain like many others had. He spoke in even, measured tones, controlling his emotions as best as he could.

"What do you think of this?" he asked.

I told him I was confused. That I didn't know what or who to believe anymore.

He told us, his father had been on leave. They lived in the compound, and had been allowed to leave/escape on the second day of the mutiny.

Throughout the conversation, I just had this sense that there was something he really wanted to say, but chose to hold it in instead.

And in a country where its common for everyone to want to be heard, to have a chance to state his/her opinion -- silence sometimes means so much more.

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