The Snowflake of Summer

 “Dedicated to the conservatively estimated 20,000 civilian deaths directly resulting from the U.S invasion of Afghanistan”

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Preface

Contrary to popular belief, the Afghani people are not simplistic, uncivilized or primitive. They are in fact members of a refined and erudite culture that has developed over the course of many centuries.

The people are considerate and purposeful. It is in every sense of the phrase “a land of conflict and beauty”. For thousands of years many powerful nations have fought to control these proud lands which bridge Russia, the middle-east and India.

Western Afghanistan 2004.

My town was an island refuge located among an expanse of sporadic shrubbery, sand and grass. To the south of town lay fertile grasslands, to the north, flat savannah-like arid plains that stretched endlessly forthwith. There were mountainous ranges to the east, and to the west, Americans.

Part 1

Chapter 1

The heat bore down on us as we played under a merciless midday summer-sun. ‘You’re it!’ Samir yelled at me.  I passionately protested at the unfairness of his indictment. ‘You never even touched me you filthy liar!’ He smiled at me mockingly; I could see it in his eyes; he was acknowledging the truthfulness of my accusation. But instead of making any form of concession; he turned to the group and said, ‘c’mon before she catches you’. The group’s approval was unanimous; they set-off in their various directions; kicking up clouds of dust as they ran. I saw no point in arguing the matter any further. I could tell the group had quite adamantly decided that “I was it”.  I singled out Husani, believing that as a result of his generous proportions, he would be an easy target. And before long- I was right on his heels; matching his every desperate stride. I reached out and began to yell ‘you’re it-!’ But he somehow managed to swivel nimbly on one foot and he ducked to his right; narrowly escaping my grasp. Samir and Jamal who had been watching my pursuit giggled; partially at the success of Husani’s manoeuvre; but more so at the failure of my exertion. This only served to intensify my resolve to catch the elusive pig. Once I regained my composure, and the amazement of his unexpected evasion wore-off; I resumed my pursuit. I gained on him rapidly and before long, I was again, within an arm’s length. This time however-I anticipated his sly movement perfectly. And when he motioned to feint left, I countered him. I frantically extended my arm forwards and my fingers registered the smooth touch of his silk shirt. ‘You’re it!’ I declared breathlessly. I folded my hands over my head resignedly. I tell you; all this activity in the summer’s heat really makes you feel worn-out. I left Husani in the sun and slowly walked back to the rest of the group who had assembled under the shade of some foreign tree. I asked them if they had witnessed my arduous crusade to catch the nimble devil; slightly exaggerating my exploits. Jamal nodded dismissively, and Samir glared at me; ‘anyone could catch Husani’, he said. ‘He is as fat as a pig. Stop annoying us child’. Sometimes I felt as if they only picked on me because I was a girl; but what else could I do, save accept their criticism? There was nobody else in town that I could play with, and summer can become a very tedious time if one has nothing to do.

After we had been sitting; without talking, for some-time; Samir suddenly suggested that we should travel down the dirt road to “Ra’ees goat farm” where we could amuse ourselves by unsettling his livestock. This sounded like an entertaining waste of time; my only concern being that none of us had ever ventured beyond the edge of town before without the company of our elders. But after all; Ra’ees farm was barely a hundred metres beyond the edge of town. ‘Sure why not, what is the worst thing that could possibly happen?’ Jamal said playfully in response to Samir’s harmless scheme; his words echoed like a perfect reflection of the feelings of excitement which we each held.