In 1978, on the brink of significant historical and political change, I embarked on an unforgettable journey to Afghanistan. It was an era when Afghanistan hadn’t yet succumbed to aftermaths of Soviet invasion and endless wars, a time when Afghanistan’s beauty was unblemished, and its rich culture, untainted by dire circumstances. This trip, aptly dubbed my “trip of a lifetime,” was like no other, it was genuinely as riveting as it was revelatory, literally shaping and diversifying my perspective on life and the world.
As a reluctant traveler, I had left my comfort zone, for the rugged mountains and sprawling valleys of Afghanistan, only to be greeted by a symphony of sights, sounds, and smells that felt like a sensory assault. It was in the bustling bazaars of Kabul, where we experienced a cacophony of vibrant colors and exotic scents, the remarkable blend of spices, ripe fruits, fresh bread, and brewing tea. Afghanistan’s breathtaking landscape stole my breath away while the untamed wilderness of the Hindu Kush presented a stark yet beautiful contrast to the architectural elegance of the exquisite Islamic designs. Each experience unfolded like chapters of the most thrilling book, leaving lasting imprints. Reflecting on it now, forty years later, I remain indebted to that remarkable journey for the invaluable lessons, unforgettable moments, and a newfound sense of resilience and courage.
