There is no light in the eyes of a childless man.
“My brother, Asamuddin, was killed in the 1988 battle for control of Mazar-Kabul road. As I sleep, he walks in the streets of our home village with his Kalashnikov slung over his shoulder, just as he did when he was alive.”
“My father, Haji Gholam Sadiq, and five of my brothers were martyred during the years of the jihad. It is a lucky family that offers the lives of their loved ones to the cause of Allah. They have brought great blessings upon us. It was five years after his death that I dreamed of my father. He sat at a great distance from me looking away from where I stood. He was wearing a white turban and gazed off towards the horizon. I asked him where he was. He turned to me and said that I should not ask such questions, that I would meet him on the day of judgement.”
Images and words from the project The Victor Weeps; the online edition can be seen here.