Dukhtar Page #5

You...

Who are you?

What does it matter?

Why know me?

Well, I'll know something at least.

I was 14...

when I ran away from the orphanage.

I hiked my way to Kabul...

to become a mujahid.

I spent five years in their camps...

and finally became a mujahid.

But...

this state of war

is like a sickness.

It consumed me.

One day, I was in a bazaar...

and this woman walked by.

I could only see her hands.

I don't know what happened to me.

I started following her.

She found out I was following her.

One day she caught me,

and said that if I were to marry her...

I would have to leave the war.

So then...

I left the war.

She...

She got sick...

and passed away. She is no more.

That's when I became a truck driver.

What's your story?

I don't even know your name.

What will be my story?

My father used to tell me

that when I was in the womb,

he used to have bad dreams.

When I was born,

he consulted with an elder

and named me?God Protects.'

I was married when I was 15...

to my father's side of the family.

After that...

After that my story ends.

All these years,

my husband never let me see my mother.

I don't know how she must be now.

Even now I can't see her.

I know they will reach her house soon.

Well, Allah Rakhi is a nice name.

Allah Rakhi?

Come on.

It's morning.

Zaibu? Get up sweetheart.

The sun will come up soon.

Come.

-My friend!

-Welcome, my brother.

-How are you, Zarak?

-How are you?

-I am fine. What about you?

-All good.

Peace be with you.

This is my friend I was talking about.

Welcome.

You won't have to worry

about anything now.

We will protect you here.

-Thank you.

-Come.

Alright then,

my guys brought your truck back safely.

How do I thank you, man?

You forget Kabul.

I'm the one who owes you.

You left the war,

but looks like it never left you.

Ma?

Ma!

Like this, and then this.

First throw this, then pick this up.

It's not really working.

Let's throw them all together.

This is not the way to play.

I'm showing you a new game.

Carry on.

So...

-Slept well?

-Too much, I think.

It's so peaceful here.

And so beautiful.

Indeed.

You wanna take a walk?

It's okay, she'll be fine.

Come on.

We're going for a walk nearby.

Don't go anywhere.

Alright?

Strange river, isn't it?

Half one color, half another.

The story of these rivers

is the story of two lovers.

There was a man named Kabul

and a woman named Sindhu.

Kabul lived on top of a mountain.

And on another mountain,

far away, lived Sindhu.

They belonged to two enemy tribes.

Really?

Kabul loved to play the flute.

His melodies had a mesmerizing quality.

When Sindhu used to

listen to his flute...

she would often a tune to it.

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