It was quiet on the road but my mind was ever so restless. The worried thoughts went on and on, and I kept looking out for any suspicious movements or looks from anyone. I was tense as the bus inched closer to the Torkham border. There were buildings on either side with Afghan and Pakistani flags atop them. I started to get cold feet, but there was no going back.
As the bus approached the gates, I recalled a conversation that I had had with Atta-ur-Rahman, where he was frustrated with my delays and said, “Are you Indians always this scared?” I was determined to rescue Fiza, and no, I was not scared, I said to myself.
There was a long queue of vehicles waiting to cross over. I was trying to see what was happening when I heard the sounds of young boys trying to sell something. I couldn’t understand what they were saying till I heard the words “phone” and “SIM”. I sprung up and tried to search for the voice that had said those two words. I called out to him….
