Afghan women. Working. Making money for themselves. Being empowered by their government. Given a choice. Holding their heads high. With the recent images after the #ZABULSEVEN, I am nostalgically looking at images of the motherland. The one my mother describes, the one I see in my dreams. My heart is so shattered, nothing hurts more than being so far from home. I wish I could be on the streets with my people, protesting our puppet regime, fighting for the rights of our minorities, carrying the coffins of our martyrs. But instead I lay here, privileged, safe, far away, crying over pictures of our past, wishing it was the same, pining, longing for the homeland. Afghanistan zindabaad ?