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Steam intermingle with the muezzins’ calls to prayer

Aunties are cooking dhal and Uzbeki pilau. Pilau, the scent of raisins meander through the corridor and catch up with Shoaib. Shoaib says we are hungry. Hungry, the city's lights flicker on and off as the power falter. Faltering Kabul lights up, goes dark, and lights up once again. Again, we smell tomato, kebabs and more raisins. Raisins awaken the pressure cooker. Cooker smokes piping hot steam. Steam intermingle with the muezzins’ calls to prayer. Prayer, our salvation, our meditation, our peace.

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