I REMEMBER

Afghanistan is near and dear to my heart. It is the place where i grew up, where i spent my childhood and most of my teen years. I still remember playing outside till late, walking to school, taking public transportation to relatives house, celebrating Eid and Nawrooz, all those family gatherings, our house with its big yard that was planted with lots of vegetables and flowers. Life was pretty simple those days and very much enjoyable although we didn't have a lot of facilities that we have in the states. I vividly remember my sweet grandmother teaching me house chores and my parents helping me with my studies in the evenings.
I also remember the war times, running from place to place to hide, schools closing, the panic look on my parents' faces, the desperation in their voices and their reassurance that we will be fine. I remember how they used to hug us in an effort to shield us from pieces of bombs and rockets that just blew up around our house. I remember how we would wake up in the middle of the night to walk few blocks down our house to hide in someone's basement because a fight was to break out in the next hour or so. I remember the fear of possibly getting robbed, raped, tortured and killed viciously any minute. I remember a whole lot more but don't feel like sharing at the moment.
I don't blame my country or my culture for all the horror and trauma that I, my family and everyone like us went through. I blame the ignorance, the greed, and the manipulative bastards who used our people for their personal and political agenda.
I will be back soon to tell you what my culture and my family taught me and how they shape my character and life over all.