Here, I think of the phrase that people murmur constantly, Insha’Allah or God Willing, with two upturned palms, as if to catch Allah’s uncertain rain. For Afghans, Allah is the mountain above the mountains, as it is He who entertains the idea — or not — of our next hour on this earth. This, I think, is why the Afghans are reluctant to bet on tomorrow. Tomorrow is not ours to presume upon. Tomorrow is the pleasure of Allah alone.
Insha’Allah. It is this pervasive, finally overpowering feeling that I find the most difficult to convey about Afghanistan. And yet for me, it is this stubborn and unassailable conviction — this ability to endure almost anything — that defines the Afghan soul and my fascination with it.