At the end of the day....

They are internal casualties. We all changed. We went out as a bunch of kids. Wars are fought by kids. And we came back-looked may be the same, a little older-but inside we were so different . They thought we were just odd, I guess: "What`s happened to You?""What`s wrong."
And I was feeling that no body knows, no body understands, and I am not good enough with words to be able to tell them.

It has been a long day. I must take shower now.

Inspired from From Quientin Aaaneson`s diary (experience of second world war.)

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