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How the ruins was once a thriving village

We travel outside Kabul during the weekends. There are music nights with tabla, and songs, and poetry, Kabul is beautiful, and outside is breathtaking. Hills just roll neverending, of all colours and they change under the light of the sun. People appear so small in this country because of all the grandeur that surround them. Peaks are so sharp, slabs and plateaus so large. So much of the country is  untouched. Yet, all we hear are stories of the war. Every place has a story about the war, about a commander who once ruled or how the ruins was once a thriving village.



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