The Hindu Kush mountains seemed to glow .If you climbed high enough you can see all of Afghanistan, my grandpa and I always fell for that beautiful scenery. Today though was different I asked him about the east, he told me about Pakistan. I had only been to Pakistan once. My parents had taken me inside there border once. Other than that, I have never been outside Afghanistan. Then he told me about a country even more west India. I had only heard about them in books, There were hardly any Indians in our side of Afghanistan. When we went to Kabul, we saw a few selling spices. my grandfather even revealed he had been there once, after India had gotten independence. He described it as a paradise. With the different ethnic groups, the foods, animals, beaches, and music. He pulled out a Indian coin from his pocket.
My grandfather kept it everywhere he went. the sun started to go down and we headed own the mountain. We had plenty of Naan and green tea for the walk down. Our house was only a couple of miles from the mountain. We had come home to a very bust household. My brother was playing the tablas while my sister sang in dari. My mother was preparing a meal of biryani, while my father was watching football with his friends. They had all tuned in at our house because my father had streamed games from the Premier League. In Afghanistan, we usually do not get football games outside of our country. So when we do, it is special. While we were eating dinner, I told my parents about what I had learned about India. My mother said she had always wanted to go to India but never had the chance. My grandfather proposed the idea of taking me to India for my birthday. My parents thought it would be a great idea. When I went to school I told my friends. They said they had heard about India. To them it seemed mystical and distant. My birthday came up fast, the night before we headed to India.
We were going on the Kabul Transit train. The ride through Afghanistan was calm, when we reached Pakistan it was clam as well, until we reached Mingora. The train tracks stopped, suddenly two gun men knocked down on the window. They were the Taliban! They demanded us to go back with them to our camp. My grandfather and I were able to hide. As we were running back we heard gun shots and groans from the camp. The Taliban had killed the civilians. We ran as fast as we could and then we found someone driving. We asked them if we could have a ride to the next stop. The man named Azan, happily gave us a ride there. We boarded the train. We finally reached the Indian border. We crossed the border, we had reached the strange land. The land we had been talking about for years.
Even already India felt like millions miles away. The music was louder and the people were everywhere as Grandpa described. They even spoke a strange language we never heard. We saw a golden temple, it was scenic over the water. We then traveled to Agra. There we saw the Taj Mahal there my grandfather had got a telegram from our family. It was one of the survivors from the train warning us that the Taliban had seized my I.D. card and we’re headed to kidnap our family back home. I am scared to say we have now the Great Journey.