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Wednesday, November 14, 2007

AN UNFORGETTABLE TRIP " Ride with Dr Anis Gul"


I was lucky to visit Afghanistan recently. I had the most unbelievable trip to Faizabad, Bharak and Jurm , for capacity building of local journalists. You are reading the page seven of my diary of that unforgettable trip.

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RIDE WITH ANIS

The same evening I had an opportunity to go out with Dr Anis to see small enterprise she was running (with the help of AKF) for women empowerment. Yes she was the same lady I written about in my earliest article on Afghanistan two yaers ago. The dare devil who is a doctor by profession, been the director of the women health ministry and drives around in a Toyota. Another modern Afghan woman.


Sitting besides her proud bearing, the world outside the dusty window pane looked a little austere all right but not so deprived or poor I had imagined it would be. Yes I agree at my end nothing had really changed. I wasn’t on a donkey’s back like the average Afghan woman or walking in a Burkha. If the road was a little bumpy the excellent suspension of the Toyota made it just seem like an uncomfortable ride over a bad patch (which is so common in India).The view outside was still poignantly beautiful with dishevelled children playing around and men in their regular working clothes (no none of them were flashy at all) busily going about their life.And there were women in blue "chaudhris" or burkhas as they call it in these parts, moving like sorceresses.I couldn't see their faces but the ones i could see looked neither hungry or stricken with poverty.

I kept clicking them – snot running red cheeked kids, smiling school going girls with their heads dutifully covered. Rugged faces carrying loads, old faces sunning themselves, but in none of them could I see the cloud of foreboding that I was so desperately trying to capture.

Here a landmine may go off or you may hear a shot at distance but life is not panic stricken. You take refuge in the nearest shelter, talk in whispers and wait patiently for the next moment to carry on with your life. In these northern parts of Afghanistan life has been always relatively free of struggle and devastation. Thanks to the Hindukush towards its south its rough terrain made it inaccessible to even Taleban invasion. The Mujaheddens were all they had to deal with for the longest time, and the trailing burkhas are among the last remnants of its residual impact. The younger generation still cover their head as per Islamic culture anywhere else in the world but have done away with the burkha. The others who still wear it when they are in the open prefer to do it as a safety measure.. “who wants to stick out like a sore thumb?” they say.

I ventured to ask Anis “Where are the tea shops , don’t you have any in Faizabad?” Were do the locals have tea, or the visitors for the matter, since Chai was such an important part of their diet…. "We just stop by and ask anyone to give us tea and they do. It is part of our culture. You will get tea anywhere you want Anis claimed.

Observing my amazement she cashed on the moment to show off the least she could “ a slice of Afghani culture.” Her car came to a sudden halt in front of a small grocers shop and she requested for some for herself and a guest from India.

In the next moment the door of the house opened for us and we were welcomed by the lady of the house, her hands black from the soot of the bukhari she was cleaning for the evening.


We were taken around the portico into a modest living room where there was sitting arrangement on the ground all along the walls. We had to remove our walking shoes outside as is customary in these parts to keep away the enormous dust they tend to gather from the roads…and slip into home chappals before entering the house.

Here a tea was laid with great warmth with some home made biscuits called "kulchas", some nuts and toffees in wrappers. All members of the joint household including the grand old mother came to say salaam as we sipped on our tea and had small talks going.


The eldest girl of the family a 20 year old school teacher said “goodbye”, in English when we finally left the house.


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