It Won’t, Will It?
€100–€600
EN
Many people often ask me how I felt, whether I was afraid while photographing on the front line — with shells flying overhead and bullets wounding and killing people around me. I always give the same answer: at first, I was more than afraid, until I managed to convince myself that I wouldn’t be the one to get hit. You simply tell yourself that the chances of it happening to you are small — and you stop thinking about it.
It’s probably similar for people who live near active volcanoes, or in areas where earthquakes are frequent. And it seems to me it’s the same with those who pass through the Prokop railway station every day.
They’ve heard what the experts say. They know there are serious doubts about its construction. But, like all of us in certain situations, they’ve managed to convince themselves that nothing will happen at the very moment they pass through.
Because — it won’t happen now.
It won’t happen to me.
They’re not that unlucky.
They clench their teeth — and walk on.
SR
Mnogi ljudi me često pitaju kako sam se osećao i da li sam bio uplašen dok sam snimao na prvoj liniji fronta — dok su granate preletale iznad glave, a meci ranjavali i ubijali ljude oko mene. Uvek odgovaram isto: u početku sam bio više nego uplašen, sve dok nisam sebe ubedio da baš mene neće pogoditi. Jednostavno, kažete sebi da je mala verovatnoća da se to dogodi upravo vama — i prestanete da mislite o tome.
Verovatno je slično i sa ljudima koji žive u blizini aktivnih vulkana ili na područjima gde su zemljotresi česti. A isto je, čini mi se, i sa ljudima koji svakodnevno prolaze kroz železničku stanicu Prokop.
Čuli su šta stručnjaci govore. Znaju da postoje ozbiljne sumnje u njenu konstrukciju. Ali su, kao i svi mi u nekim drugim situacijama, uspeli da ubede sebe da se ništa neće dogoditi baš u trenutku njihovog prolaska.
Jer — neće valjda baš sada. Neće valjda baš meni.
Nisu oni takvi baksuzi.
Stegnu zube — i prođu.