I told myself this week that I wasn't gonna write about the Indian Embassy bombing in Kabul. Living in Kabul is a surreal existence, and the more you can distract yourself from the day to day grind, the saner you'll remain. But i guess one way to get over this feeling of hopelessness is to talk about it. So here goes.
I was at a workshop in Central Hotel, which is about 10 blocks from the Indian Embassy. We got there early, around 7.50, and just as we were doing a warm up exercise, at 8.20, the blast reverberated through the windows. My colleagues, who were facing the windows, saw the debris fly up and the smoke took over the corner.
We took a break to inform others that we were safe. Then we went back to work.
After coming back home, I tried to meet up with people, but everyone was on lockdown. I stayed home and deliberately turned off the TV, as didn't want to be informed beyond what I saw on the web.
But the impact of death of 40 people, with 150+ injured is to be seen everywhere. This was not a military establishment. Many people killed were queued in line for obtaining Indian visas.
My Afghan colleagues each have their own ideas about what happens next. One compared it to taming the elephant, a conspiracy to completely take over the hearts and minds of people. Another said that things will only get worse for next 20 years, until another generation takes over. Yet another wondered if grassroots level mobilization will help. No one knows the answer.
For the first time here, I'm affected by the despair that surrounds me. I'm hopeful, but it's impossible to ignore the frustration and hopelessness around me.
