Winter Flight
I was about five years old when my parents tried to flee Afghanistan. It was around 1998 and the Taliban was in control.
My family was bright-minded. My father was a government employee so we lived in the capital city of Kabul. The new Taliban regime had dismissed all the government workers so my parents decided to leave so they could get jobs, earn a salary, and feed our family.
From Kabul, we traveled by car until it was no longer possible for a car to make its way and then we traveled on foot. I think we walked for two nights, maybe three, heading to the cars stationed at the Pakistan border. We were four families. Each of us, the men, women, and children, carried a burden. I was a small girl, and I had a teapot to carry. The teapot was tall and it kept hitting the dirt and stones and it bothered me.
My father carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. He was tired and breathing sharply. I looked at his hand, and it was pale and rough and very cold. I felt his exhaustion and thought, if only I could carry that heavy burden for him. But unfortunately I couldn’t. My sisters’ and brothers’ and mother’s burdens were worse than mine.
The weather grew darker. It was winter and there was snow falling as we walked towards the border. The brightness of the snow hurt my eyes. The blizzard covered the ground like a white blanket. I walked slowly. My own body felt like a heavy burden.
It was my duty to keep going. My hands and feet felt like ice, without energy or blood flowing. I saw nothing but snow. I felt frozen, almost too weak to carry my own body. My clothes were old and too small and my jacket sleeves did not cover my arms. I had grown taller, but my clothes hadn’t accompanied me. My teeth trembled and chattered.
My warm breath couldn’t warm my body in that cold. I thought back to the hot, sunny days of summer, when I had put water on my veil during school because I was so hot. But my thoughts couldn’t warm me. Our caravan was getting nearer to our destination and people were saying, “Good news is on the way.” In everyone’s face I saw hope and optimism.
It didn’t last. Our caravan had gone the wrong way. We had left Afghanistan to go to Pakistan. I couldn’t walk anymore. I was so gloomy I let go of my father’s hand. I was exhausted. While we waited to find out which way to walk, I thought about the winters of my childhood when we all sat inside around the Sandali, warm and cozy in the dim light.
Suddenly I heard the harsh roar. Hungry wolves were nearby and they awakened me from my memories. They sounded happy and excited to hunt their quarry—us. Our group threw stones at them and the wolves left. But I still felt like I was being followed. I was terrified and took my father’s hand again.
We never made it to Pakistan. The Taliban had blocked the border. I was very small and I don’t remember everything. But we returned home with regret and sadness to Kabul and the Taliban. It is a bad memory of a bad time. When I think back on it, I resent the Taliban for they kept us from freedom and a better life.
By Beheshta
Photo by Globetrotter Rodrigo
Beheshta — This such a powerful essay about your disappointing attempt to leave Afghanistan and the Taliban behind when you were very young. Thank you for sharing your painful experience that shows how your family was prevented from pursuing a better life. It is important for us to understand the depth of the Taliban’s control and you have shown that clearly here. I appreciate all your hard work in writing this essay too. Well done! Nancy
Thank you dear mentor Nancy, I am indebted of your helps.
This has been one of my most interesting reads ever! I wish there was more as I’m dying to know more about your experience. Please keep them coming.
Thank you esteem Priscilla your nice comments encourages me in the way of writing.
Dear Beheshta,
As I sit in my warm house this morning, watching the snow falling outside, your essay touched me deeply. We Westerners don’t often read about snow in Afghanistan. The detail you put into this piece brought me into the scene, and made me feel a tiny bit if what it was like for you, trying to leave, a small child beset by wolves, the weather, the Taliban. Please keep writing, you are very very good at it!
Linda
My pleasure Dear Linda, I am so happy that you spent your valuable time in reading my essay and your good comments that extremely persuades me in this field. 🙂
Dear Behesta,
This makes me very sad. Still, it makes me happy that you have the strength, will, courage, and skill to write it!
Thank you my esteem Abby.
Dear Beheshta, I couldn’t stop reading your words, they were so compelling. Your description is beautiful even though it is a description of hard times and sadness. I know this story will make every reader in my country thankful for what they have, and it will also give us a strong emotional connection with you there in Afghanistan. I await more of your good writing. Thank you, Beheshta. –Pat
Many many thanks dear Pat for encouraging me in writing with your lovely comment.
Dearest Beheshta: I am deeply impressed by your powerful storytelling. My goodness I felt like I was there with you and that trek, feeling your physical pain, and carrying the burdens physical and emotional. This is stellar writing and deeply compelling. I don’t think I will forget this essay anytime soon.
I was very struck by: “We were four families. Each of us, the men, women, and children, carried a burden. I was a small girl, and I had a teapot to carry. The teapot was tall and it kept hitting the dirt and stones and it bothered me.”
And then: “My own body felt like a heavy burden.”
Your writing is so sensuous and evocative. A reader will feel that they are with you. Important talents when you’re writing nonfiction and fiction – and poetry, too.
I’m still struck thinking of the horrible hopelessness you must have felt when you knew you went the wrong way. Then the wolves! Having to throw stones to save your lives. And having their hungry noises in your memories. And then, the pain of having your hopes dashed.
I have to think you were somehow saved from a more painful fate. Reading your writing, I know that despite what you’ve faced, you have accomplished so much. And you will continue to do so.
Stacy
I makes me happy reading your good and valuable comments and thank you for your helping and guiding us. 🙂
Dear Beheshta,
Thank you for sharing your story. Your writing really helped me picture your experience. It takes a lot of courage to share these stories – please keep up your hard work.
With Kind Regards,Patty
i dont know how to explaine my words but i just can say you have improved very much deat and i really liked it believe me i sank into it …
My dear Beheshta !
This really made me sad and emotional .it s good to passed .
Wish you best of luck
OMG it is so much long….
What should i do?
I read it briefly some points.
Many afghans have experienced these days.
Beheshta Jan.
Your touched me in the heart and the hole scenario came in to my eyes like a movie.
You also have power in writing and expressed what you wanted to say in a good way.
keep it up.