In the Bosnian media, war seems to have never ended. It simply seems to have continued through other means. Above us looms the hologram of war that prevents our confused minds from making sense of oft repeated and empty phrases.
That is how on one March morning in 1993, fates intertwined to fuse the threads of a friendship that would defy all differences and borders. It was on that morning that I met a man who became my inspiration and my role model in life.
From dawn till dusk in the case of Bosnia-Herzegovina, transition always entails a dose of risk. Most of the time, it is simply fear of loss and failure. Our environment was unfortunately struck by both. Everything that once was is lost, and the fear of what will come tomorrow continues.
What do their fates mean to the world - the fates of those nameless, lads who got stuck in trenches far away from home? We could only pin clichés onto their fates, but in my mind, I have countless questions about the colors of the world that surrounded them.