I was in Kabul when a friend invited me to Kandahar, a southern Afghanistan province and former stronghold of Taliban, to join a mushaira, a gathering of poets and intellectuals. I accepted his invitation because I, too, wanted to appreciate their good activities in that restive province. It was my long-awaited wish to visit the city of Kandahar, which was going to become true.
My friend told me about a young poet who was also invited to the gathering. He gave me his address and phone number. I contacted him and told him that we were going together to the gathering. Then we fixed time and date to embark on our journey to Kandahar. After finishing my immediate works and getting my companion ready, we left for Kandahar one early morning. My companion was a nice and sober young poet who was visiting Kandahar , like me, for the first time. All the way I had to do two things. When he was narrating verses from his poetry I had to say complimentary words to appreciate him. And when he expressed his fears about the suicide attacks and kidnappings by the Taliban insurgents, I had to comfort him. Though, I myself had the same fearful thoughts.
Reaching Kandahar, we observed what we were expecting – mixed feelings characterized by fear and joy at the same time. Everyone we met with wanted to have a good life, a happy family and a security, still everyone was unclear about the future.
Our hosts proved to be true Pashtoons by showing marvelous hospitality and great esteem. They had arranged a sizeable two-day mushaira and had invited people around the country as well as from neighboring countries Pakistan and Iran . There, we met those friends we knew already by their pen names but never met them before and also those who were new in the ‘community’.
Our stay was arranged at ‘Spogmay hotel, which is situated in western part of the city. We knew that one or two blasts and suicide attacks occur every week in the city. Still it was a surprise when we heard a man talking on his cell phone, saying, "Yes, yes I was thereonly eight people have been killed in the blast".
He was giving details of an explosion of that day. We astonished to hear the ‘only eight’ words. My companion said, "It is hard to live here, living here is a matter of chance". Then he asked, "Is not it strange that the people are still happy and living here?"
"Yes, it is indeed a risky life here but still the people of here have kept their hope for a better and secure future alive", I replied.
That night, some of our hosts and their friends visited us and we discussed the situation. They were happy with the Karzai government and the presence of coalition forces. They blamed neighboring Pakistan and Iran for supporting the insurgents and cursed the terrorists ‘because they are killing our intellectuals, our doctors, our teachers, our students and our journalists".
The next day, we got up early as it was decided that we would leave early for Kabul. We collected our stuff and left the hotel. Our hosts and their friends insisted to have our last breakfast with them, but my companion had an urgent call from Kabul and he was not able to stay more. It is a tradition of respect and hospitality of Afghans that if we had accepted their invitation to the breakfast then we had to stay with them for more two to three hours as it is also a tradition.
After leaving the hotel, we hired a taxi for Kabul Vehicles Stand where our hosts had arranged two tickets of a Corolla motor. When we traveled for a few minutes, our taxi trapped in a traffic jam. The driver told us that a NATO convey was passing there and civilian vehicles were not allowed to go near it. That was why, according to him, the road was blocked and the traffic was jammed.
My companion became bored and angry after waiting for half an hour but the road was still blocked. The driver of the taxi was familiar with this kind of conveys, so he made his way into the traffic and left tens of the vehicles behind. In one hour, the taxi driver made it to have place in the front row from where we could see NATO convey passing through. The driver claimed that as soon as the convey would turn to a NATO base or move to another road, he would be the first to reach the Vehicles Stand. We praised his tactics and capability.
Meanwhile, we heard an explosion and saw the NATO convey wrapped in dust and smoke. Our ears were benumbed and my companion was so horrified and started weeping. All the traffic was suddenly halted and there was a stampede everywhere. Surprisingly, our taxi driver was as calm and relaxed as he was before the explosion. Looking at us, he smiled and said, "Don’t be frightened, suicide attacks are common here, it will be OK in a few minutes".
He was right. The situation was OK after a few minutes. As the NATO soldiers removed their destroyed vehicle and casualties and left the scene, an army of journalists rushed to the site with their flashing cameras. I was curious about the incident so I went nearer and saw the body of the suicide bomber fully burnt.
Later, a police officer told the journalists that one Canadian soldier and four civilian people were killed in the incident.
Returning to the taxi, I said to my companion (now friend), "You are right, people in this city are living by chance". The taxi driver also agreed.