Triumph in Ahmedabad & Soaring to Kabul
Victory at the Passport Office
Finally, in Ahmedabad, I raced to the passport office in an auto-rickshaw. The mission: reinstate my ECNR (Emigration Check Not Required) status. A stroke of luck struck—my brother-in-law’s cousin worked there! After a brief detour to his home (guided by his kind, partially paralyzed father who insisted the walk was “good exercise”), I met the cousin. He assured me the process could be completed in a day.
By 5:00 PM, after hours of waiting, I faced the passport officer. He reviewed my documents, asked a few questions, and stamped my passport—ECNR reinstated. Relief washed over me. It felt like winning a war.
Homecoming and a New Plan
Exhausted, I boarded a late-night bus to Rajkot. My parents, who’d shared my stress, greeted me with equal relief. Determined to avoid another train ordeal, I opted for a flight this time—a decision made sweeter by news that my friend Pradeep, already in Afghanistan, would accompany me to Kabul.
First Flight, New Horizons
Pradeep booked my domestic flight from Ahmedabad to Delhi. His family welcomed me warmly, especially his father—a retired Deputy Police Commissioner with a jovial spirit. Early the next morning, we headed to the airport.
The First Flight:
As a first-time flyer, I buzzed with excitement. The aircraft’s vast emptiness surprised me—a Boeing 747 meant for 320 passengers carried barely 100, mostly NGO workers. Pradeep joked, “These flights are like local buses!” Despite warnings against photography, I snapped a few discreet shots (avoiding Indian airspace, of course).
Smooth Sailing to Kabul
In Delhi, we stayed at Pradeep’s preferred hotel near the airport. The next morning, boarding the Kabul-bound flight felt surreal. No hiccups this time—no emigration issues, no frantic document checks. The plane soared smoothly into the sky, marking the start of my Afghan chapter.
Reflections
The Power of Connections: Family ties and friendships (like Pradeep’s) turned obstacles into stepping stones.
Embrace Firsts: From my maiden flight to navigating bureaucracy, every “first” taught resilience.
Serendipity in Chaos: Empty flights, kind strangers, and last-minute solutions—adventure thrives in unpredictability.
As the Hindu Kush mountains loomed ahead, I felt a mix of awe and resolve. The journey had tested my grit, but the destination promised purpose.
Sometimes, the road less traveled isn’t a road at all—it’s a runway. ✈️
[Pradeep and myself in Ariana Afghan Flight]
Aryana Afghan Flight with Pradeep: First Glimpses of Kabul
The flight aboard Aryana Afghan Airlines was a unique experience. Pradeep and I settled into our seats, and soon after takeoff, the cabin crew served a meal that stood out for its simplicity: a traditional Afghani naan—a long, flatbread—paired with a modest serving of vegetables. As a vegetarian, I quickly learned that options are limited in Afghan cuisine, but for a short one-hour flight, it sufficed.
The real highlight, however, was the view. To our right, the Hindu Kush mountains rose majestically—towering, snow-dusted peaks that commanded awe. Their rugged grandeur felt almost sacred, a humbling reminder of nature’s raw power.
As the plane began its descent, I pressed my face to the window, eager for my first glimpse of Kabul. The landscape below unfolded in waves of earthy brown—a mosaic of mud-brick homes and unpainted buildings blending into the arid terrain. Color seemed absent, as if the land itself had muted its palette to harmonize with the harsh climate. Yet there was a stark beauty in the simplicity, a quiet resilience etched into every structure.
Touchdown in Kabul:
The wheels hit the tarmac, and my heart raced. Stepping off the plane, the dry, crisp air carried whispers of a world entirely foreign to me. Pradeep, ever the seasoned traveler, chuckled at my wide-eyed curiosity. “Welcome to Afghanistan,” he said, clapping my shoulder.
Though brief, that flight offered a fleeting introduction to a land of contrasts: the majesty of ancient mountains, the starkness of dusty plains, and the warmth of its bread—a metaphor, perhaps, for the country itself—simple yet enduring.
Sometimes, the most profound journeys begin with a single hour in the sky. ✈️🏔️
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