Escape to Ghazni Province in Afghanistan (1994-1995)
It was a very freezing mid night, The Strings of My Life curved our ways to a long, exhausted, and risky voyage. The fracture sounds of the buses, while passing from the hard stones, are still throbbing in my ears. The horrible sounds of shooting, blasting, and screaming of men members were very horrified. On the other hand, the lovely sound of my father was serene. He was holding me in his blissful arms, and telling me the story of “Bozak-e Chenney - a Chinese Goat”.
He was saying that, “Once upon a time, there was a Chinese Goat, which was living with its three children, Angag, Bongag, and Kolola-Sangag, on the Hindu Khosh Mountains. They had a small hut near a beautiful river, but there were lots of wolves near to their house. The wolves always used to come to river and try to talk to this Chinese goat. Indeed, the wolves wanted to know about the Chinese Goat’s children and their house. Their plane was clear for having of a marvelous lunch and dinner by hunting the Chinese Goat’s children. However, the Chinese Goat was very clever about the wolves around her hut, so was its children. they used to not talk to them, and share noting with them. As always, my father still says this part with lots of cheerfulness that “the Chinese Goat was cleverer than the wolves. Before going out, she used to hide her three children under grasslands of the river.
My father was stopped at the moment, when the bus was stopped.
Abruptly, two men with weapons on their shoulder entered the bus; some of them were outside the bus, standing next to the window, where my mother, my newly born brother, Jalaluddin, and my other two brothers were sitting. While, they screamed by saying, “Allah Akbar, everyone was jumped up of their lovable and peaceful sleep, my mother’s eyes filled with tear. She forgot to wear her veil carefully; therefore my father said very slowly that she should cover her face.
My mother put her black veil on her face and pretended to be asleep. I was only four years, but I had a big piece of a cloth on my head. My father said, “Close your eyes, and don’t cry.” On that time, I really wanted to be in my mother’s arms, I wanted her to make me calm by her murmuring song of “Lolo Lolo.” I fall asleep on the hope of my mother’s arm. Everyone was looking very scared. My father said that the men were searching for some people, who were in government during Dr. Najib’s supremacy as was my father. Finally, they took General Anayaat, 25, my father’s best friend, a member of the Afghan Military Force of the government, and his 6 years son. General Anayaat and his son have never come back. After that many armed men came and took the passengers from the mid of their destinations.
It was about four hours travel on the wreckage streets of Ghazni; still we had to suffer for more than two hours in that depressed and aggressive location of death.
Finally, a divine nap bonded us to Ghazni City at 5 am and felt the earth surface under our feet.
My parents say, “The long way to Ghazni was intensify intolerable for all of us. But till to the end of the dark clouds we were calm for our lives.”