.... are you the one who is scared like one of the Generals of the past for being bombed back in the stonage???
...
Forget about this bickering. Tell me one thing. Have you been in REAL war.
Real war means that you have lived through something similar to the following scenario. OK?
That you, your siblings, your pappy, your ma ji, your gran pappy, your gran ma are all sitting on a dining table having dinner, and an enemy airplane drops a 1000 pounds bomb in your city, less than half a mile from your home.
And the candle light flickers out due to the shock wave,
And your home's windows shatter,
And your gran ma starts having angina pain,
And your little sister becomes unconscious,
so fearful of dark, so sensitive to that awful explosion
And the books in your dad's library topple out of the shelves,
And you live in dark for the fear that the lights in your home will give way the location to the enemy airplanes.
And then you fall in sajda, and pray, and I mean really really pray for the safety and survival of your sister, your mum n dad.
You pray for that the war and the horrible atrocities are over soon, that you could live to see another day, and sit with your family and look at your gran pa's smiling toothless but gracefully bearded face, and you could savor your gran ma's home cooked biryani, and your mum making tasty prathas in the kitchen, and you loitering the local supermarket with your buddies.
And you live to be older, gentler and wiser man, marrying off to a beautiful lady, and raising kids, and getting old, and sitting in the living room with your buddies from the high school days, exchanging stories and discussing tales about your teachers, your youthful follies, and stupidities.
Unfortunately your empty bravado tells that you probably have not lived through that brief and yet a poignant moment when a 1000 pound bomb drops not too far from your home.
Or perhaps you lived through that moment, but sadly never learned from it.
Who knows!