The battlefield was a scene of utter devastation. Scars of the fighting going on over the last two days were visible everywhere.

In the middle of it all, a young man was lying down. He was alive. But exhausted and tired by what had happened over the last two days. His breath was heavy. Not because he was injured. But because he had just re-lived the last 48 hours. How had they changed his life!

As the din subsided and things went quiet in the twilight hours, he slowly helped himself and sat down. He then deliberately ran his eyes around to soak in the scene. As if suffering from hysteria, he started weeping.

Lying next to him was his closest friend. Dead. They had both started their army life on the same day and had become good buddies very soon. He was now gone. Too soon.

The young man remembered what had happened. Charging against the other side, they had gotten into a hand-to-hand combat and his friend was severely wounded by a couple of soldiers from the opposite side.

He then recalled how enraged he had felt at just that moment, and how that rage had made him uncontrollable. He, of the gentlest manners, had then fought off the two soldiers, hesitating just a bit before killing them.

After all, he had never killed someone before. But as he committed the act twice in quick succession, he felt something churning inside him. His mind went numb soon after and he fell down, as if someone had stuck him a blow.

All the training he had got was only to prepare him with how to react physically. How to handle blows to his body. They hadn’t prepared him for what to do when a close friend gets killed. Or how to react after killing someone yourself.

At first, he felt remorse for the soldiers he had just killed. They were also young, just like him. They also would have lost someone dear to them today. How lucky were they that they didn’t have to think about those losses anymore.

Then, he felt pity on himself. How could he do what he just did? And how will he look upon himself going forward? Wouldn’t it have been better if he had just knocked them down unconscious. What did his first time at killing someone on a battlefield mean?

As he sat there for some more time, it occurred to him that this had all been inevitable. The day he had signed up for the army, he should have known that such a moment will occur some day. In fact, he knew it will. What he didn’t do was think of what it will mean to him.

It was just a day on the job for someone like him. He had chosen this path. And the after effects of the incidence were his alone to deal with…

Replace the soldiers with ordinary men. Replace the battlefield with a corporate setup or a disoriented team or an unruly class. And assume the killing to be figurative rather than literal.

Sadly, a setting most of us are familiar with and see happening around us all too often…