Slowly we walked through the deserted forest that used to be the stronghold of the menace the whole country faced. With every step we took, you could hear the sound of crushed leaves and sticks wrapped in solitude. The atmosphere expressed dryness to our minds and bodies. I could hear the various tweets and sounds of birds that also came back from exile to take solace on trees they once nested. We were adorned in our white regalia, emblem on it – the prestigious red cross, walking through the forest like messiahs, yet we were not the true messiahs. Because, when the destruction struck the hardest, we…