First Impressions-Part One
First impressions…. They are always difficult to express, for they are overwhelming- more so when they are about a place like Afghanistan.
My first brush with Afghanistan… was perhaps… when I read the famous story by Rabindranath Thakur… ‘The Kabuliwallah’… he was, perhaps, from Afghanistan… or may be the contiguous regions of Pakistan… the ill-famed Pashtun-lands are located both in Pakistan and Afghanistan… divided by an illogical, and self-serving British Durand Line.
I am not the first person in my family to have visited Afghanistan… my Mama (maternal uncle) stayed for few hours in Kabul in mid 1990s… when a civil war between the forces of Rabbani and Hekmatyar… raged. He told us about how, sitting in the confines of airport, he could hear the ear-blowing sounds of shells and explosion… and how, despite having a transit visa… he chose to remain in the airport.
Traveling from Delhi to Kabul… I saw the Indus river… which has been the basis of human civilization in India… it perhaps is more important for India than Ganges from a civilizational perspective… it not only pre-dated Gangetic civilization by at-least 2000 years… but also provided for base-camps for incoming hordes of Aryans for making further inroads eastwards.
Just beyond the Indus… I could see the rocky mountains that separate the fertile plains of Punjab from the Pashtun-lands… a few minutes later… they became capped with snow… glittering in the sunlight… and enticing. If heaven were to be replicated on earth… it couldn’t have been better.
Kabul lies in a bowl shaped valley…. Crudely built… from atop it showed signs of a city scarred by an ongoing civil war… many garrison like new buildings… interspersed between a sea of battle-scarred buildings…
Kabul airport in minimal… more minimal than Indian ones… after seeing airports in Cairo and Dubai… (And a few days ago, that of Hyderabad)… it seemed even more minimal…though I expected it to be that way.
I stayed in Kabul for little less than a day… met a few people… saw a bit of Kabul streets…ate in an Indian restaurant called ‘Anaar’… saw sleet on the roads… as if it were water with carvings in it. I was happy to be in a place that often defines the medieval moorings of India… and to this day defines the modern moorings of the post 9/11 world.
The city showed glimpses of its erstwhile grandeur… like the desolated park just in front of my Hotel… one could have easily imagined… the time when it was rife with activities and bloom. And the people… who despite the ravages of time… bore a cheerful look… the school going girls, who hold the key to the future… Kabul is a city victorious and would remain so… I was blessed to be here. One day I will be back and would just walk around…
Like when I passed through an Afghani bakery, which cooked large sized Afghani naan or yeasted bread… I told my escort… had it been any other country, I would have just alighted from my car and walked on to that bakery and would have tasted the famed Afghani Naan…
Next day, early morning… I had a flight to Kandahar… the flight is operated by UNHAS… UN Humanitarian Air Services… the flight took me over the mighty Hindu-kush Mountains… and what a sight it was… I have traveled far and wide and am yet to come across such a beautiful sight… I was blessed to have seen it all.
Beyond that sight- came a desert… Kandahar is an oasis town… the spiritual capital of the Taliban… it was also the capital of Ahmed Shah Abdali… the Afghan warrior, who defeated the mighty Marathas in the third battle of Panipat… so it is city more intricately linked with India’s past and present than even Kabul.
Kandahar is a well spread-out city… (Or should I say, a town…) it is the second largest town in Afghanistan…. And third largest Pasthun-town after Peshawar and Quetta, both in Pakistan.
The city bears a desolate look; conservative to the core… it has been the site of Taliban’s rule for year… not only over the town but also the heart and minds of those who reside over here.
When I started for Afghanistan… I said to myself… that it would be a journey of a life time… I was right… it was not only a journey of a lifetime… but also journey in time. One peep into the town and I said I am back in 12th century…
Salaam 12th Century!!!!!
My first brush with Afghanistan… was perhaps… when I read the famous story by Rabindranath Thakur… ‘The Kabuliwallah’… he was, perhaps, from Afghanistan… or may be the contiguous regions of Pakistan… the ill-famed Pashtun-lands are located both in Pakistan and Afghanistan… divided by an illogical, and self-serving British Durand Line.
I am not the first person in my family to have visited Afghanistan… my Mama (maternal uncle) stayed for few hours in Kabul in mid 1990s… when a civil war between the forces of Rabbani and Hekmatyar… raged. He told us about how, sitting in the confines of airport, he could hear the ear-blowing sounds of shells and explosion… and how, despite having a transit visa… he chose to remain in the airport.
Traveling from Delhi to Kabul… I saw the Indus river… which has been the basis of human civilization in India… it perhaps is more important for India than Ganges from a civilizational perspective… it not only pre-dated Gangetic civilization by at-least 2000 years… but also provided for base-camps for incoming hordes of Aryans for making further inroads eastwards.
Just beyond the Indus… I could see the rocky mountains that separate the fertile plains of Punjab from the Pashtun-lands… a few minutes later… they became capped with snow… glittering in the sunlight… and enticing. If heaven were to be replicated on earth… it couldn’t have been better.
Kabul lies in a bowl shaped valley…. Crudely built… from atop it showed signs of a city scarred by an ongoing civil war… many garrison like new buildings… interspersed between a sea of battle-scarred buildings…
Kabul airport in minimal… more minimal than Indian ones… after seeing airports in Cairo and Dubai… (And a few days ago, that of Hyderabad)… it seemed even more minimal…though I expected it to be that way.
I stayed in Kabul for little less than a day… met a few people… saw a bit of Kabul streets…ate in an Indian restaurant called ‘Anaar’… saw sleet on the roads… as if it were water with carvings in it. I was happy to be in a place that often defines the medieval moorings of India… and to this day defines the modern moorings of the post 9/11 world.
The city showed glimpses of its erstwhile grandeur… like the desolated park just in front of my Hotel… one could have easily imagined… the time when it was rife with activities and bloom. And the people… who despite the ravages of time… bore a cheerful look… the school going girls, who hold the key to the future… Kabul is a city victorious and would remain so… I was blessed to be here. One day I will be back and would just walk around…
Like when I passed through an Afghani bakery, which cooked large sized Afghani naan or yeasted bread… I told my escort… had it been any other country, I would have just alighted from my car and walked on to that bakery and would have tasted the famed Afghani Naan…
Next day, early morning… I had a flight to Kandahar… the flight is operated by UNHAS… UN Humanitarian Air Services… the flight took me over the mighty Hindu-kush Mountains… and what a sight it was… I have traveled far and wide and am yet to come across such a beautiful sight… I was blessed to have seen it all.
Beyond that sight- came a desert… Kandahar is an oasis town… the spiritual capital of the Taliban… it was also the capital of Ahmed Shah Abdali… the Afghan warrior, who defeated the mighty Marathas in the third battle of Panipat… so it is city more intricately linked with India’s past and present than even Kabul.
Kandahar is a well spread-out city… (Or should I say, a town…) it is the second largest town in Afghanistan…. And third largest Pasthun-town after Peshawar and Quetta, both in Pakistan.
The city bears a desolate look; conservative to the core… it has been the site of Taliban’s rule for year… not only over the town but also the heart and minds of those who reside over here.
When I started for Afghanistan… I said to myself… that it would be a journey of a life time… I was right… it was not only a journey of a lifetime… but also journey in time. One peep into the town and I said I am back in 12th century…
Salaam 12th Century!!!!!
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Welcome back !
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