đŹđ§đŹđ§đŹđ§đŹđ§đŹđ§đŹđ§ - English version
Kabul has the sad dignity of elderly people who are no longer impressed by death. Having seen so many people go, they no longer bow their heads at the cemetery, and it's as if grief glides over their wrinkled skin.
To write about sadness properly, you need to have lived through a lot of it, so I'll just tell you about Kabul's new life. It's the life of children who grow up without having heard the sound of bombs under the placid gaze of their parents who seem to have lived it all. I'll also tell you about the uncertainty that hangs over the city every day, the fear that still oppresses its breath and prevents it from knowing on what foot to dance, which is just as well, since dancing is forbidden there.Â
And so is music.Â
It's a pity, though, because Kabul, which I imagined to be shattered, battered and bruised by years of war, shows a resilience that can only be achieved through experience. With the exception of the checkpoints that have been part of its daily life for 50 years, the city bears no visible scars, which is not to say that it is not suffering. Â
The street children are the most visible symptom of its evil, an evil of the soul that will take several generations to erase. The new-found peace is the most precious of treasures, but it is accompanied by extreme destitution for those who populate the walls and walk the pavements. Thousands of them pound the pavements; ragpickers, shoeshine boys, beggars and touts... They're not starving to death, thanks to the solidarity of a people who know that you can't go far in the others, but it's everything else that they lack. Education, prospects, hope... Kabul is so sad because she can see the resignation on her children's faces.
We don't really know whether her years of decline have made her beautiful or ugly, and in the light of her past that counts for very little. What is certain is that she leaves no one indifferent, and that her mobile, expressive face finds its charm in the gaze of the traveller who has been dreaming for years of looking into her eyes. So he approached her gently, peering through the grille that enclosed her eyes, and held his breath as he lifted a corner of the veil that covered her completely.Â
What an idea, really, to want to lock up such a beauty.