God alone knows how it is there - in Afghanistan, in an atmosphere saturated with rancid dust, on a parched, tormented land, where metal was torn into shreds and burned, where bloody bandages, like blooming poppies, could cover the field where fighters communicated with each other with a friend only shouting and swearing - how could women survive there; little of! how could they love and be loved without fading, withering, turning into dust? Only God knows, only God...