No Time to Think
The stories that I am writing about are "No Time to Think", "Ambush", and "Listening is an Act of Love". - Anonymous
No Time to Think
As I wondered, the sweet moment of my lifetime went back eighteen years to that terrible war when my life changed, instantaneously and forever.
When I was a little girl living in Afghanistan, my father used to tell me war stories since he was a tailor and a soldier. He used to make uniforms for soldiers. He had a friend named Baraat, and I was calling him uncle Baraat.
Basically, uncle Baraat was telling my father about other soldiers and his hard days referring to his war time experiences. Later, my father was coming home from work and he was telling me "Why do soldiers fight in war", because it's killing or is killed?
When I was five years old, my country was attacked by the Taliban and the war started. I used to walk through the mountains with my mother; I could hear the bombs, which were exploding all around. People were screaming and running toward the streets with fear in their eyes. My mother was crying and looking at me in a fearful way. I asked my mother what will happen to my brothers, sisters and father.
She just told me in broken Farsi, "No time to think", just follow me. I was also feeling lost and didn't know what to do. I think I was one of the unluckiest girls, so hungry and thirsty while walking through hard rocks with tearful eyes.
It took us three hours to find our house. As I looked in a window, I saw my father and brother with some strange men. I was trying to go inside but my mother didn't
let me go.
She asked me, "Do you know who these strangers are?" I said no.
She hugged me and said: "My daughter they are the Taliban", I did not even know who the Taliban were.
Why are they judging people or bothering innocent people?
My mother said, "I can't see my husband and son in this terrible situation". She left me alone.
I shouted, "Mother please don't leave me, and don't go inside!" She didn't listen to me. I was watching her outside the windows. She went inside with tearful eyes. One of a Taliban took a gun out of his pocket and pointed to my mother's head. I cried and ran inside.
I fell down under his feet and begged him not to do anything to my mother. He kicked me to other side of the room. My back and leg got hurt.
No one had the opportunity to ask them questions. In a fearful way my mother asked them what they wanted. One of them said in a very deep voice,
"We want some money, gold, and jewelry."
My mother's eyes popped up she said, "We don't even have one rupee to buy food for my children. How come you are asking me for one thousand rupees?"
He said, "Well, then we will take your son with us."
My mother cried real hard and said, "No please, don't take my son away from me. If I had anything, I would give it to you."
None of them listened; they just took my older brother Hamid away from us. My mother suddenly lost consciousness. I thought something happened to my mother. I brought a glass of water and sprinkled on her face a bit. She woke up but still she kept asking for my older brother.