Sometimes you want to walk aimlessly in the streets of the city, head to the air, bite the lonely and dirt alleys and in the meantime you don't have to worry about wandering eyes around you, go to a cafe and order tea alone and don't worry about the questioning looks of the people sitting behind you. Don't be another table, take your camera and take pictures, don't worry about everything and everyone, on autumn days, run under the rain without fear of the passers-by who will bite you, as simple as that, my dreams are so small and attainable. but not here, for many years I miss walking in the rain in this city, I miss walking from home to school, Kabul is not a good city, not for me or for any woman, this is not a good city, the day I was in Kabul there It was a city, a beautiful city, everywhere you turned there was hope, walls with cannons and guns on their bodies, but we had hope, hope to build, it was as if people were more human in those days, as if there was less fear and more hope, someone worried about the return of the Taliban. There was no one, no one was afraid of foreigners leaving, girls went to school, women were eager to work outside the home, little by little the ruins were replaced. They gave them to stylish and modern buildings, dirt alleys and streets were gradually asphalted, commercial complexes were built in the corners of the city, hundreds of universities and private schools were opened, the number of restaurants and luxurious wedding halls exceeded the number of people in the city, but As each year passed, more schools were burned, many girls were poisoned, many working women preferred sitting in the corners of their homes to working in the unsafe environments of government and non-governmental offices and offices. You used to have a headache and in the morning you would pack your bag and leave, now you have to even to go to the north.

To be continued