Lock Down

It was my 2nd bunker experience. I could not remember exactly when was the last time, maybe six months back? Ironically, time does fly in Kabul, from one incident to another and from one R&R to another. Coming back to Sunday the 15th of April 2012, my first half of the day was filled with meetings and I was hoping for some quiet time in the afternoon to catch up with work. It was hardly 10 minutes after I returned back after lunch that I heard sounds that were all too familiar from years of living here. I followed instructions and was in the bunker in no time. It was 2 pm.

The bunker was a better place that it was ever before. There was a telephone to use for emergency, decent stock of munchies and water, and an AC! And of course a bunch of lively people. Everyone was busily engaged – on mobiles, blackberrys, iPads, and we had unimportant conversations just to keep our minds off the events in the vicinity. We did our best to remain oblivious. Thankfully we did not have a TV.

4:30 PM - At the back of my mind, I was expecting that activities would taper down closer to 5 pm as it had last time. We had some indication of things becoming quiet except for one ‘hardworking’ militant that didn’t seem to let go. He was obviously very dedicated to the task on hand. So we waited. Meanwhile messages were pouring in from family, friends and colleagues.

6:30 PM – We got information about increased activity and the possibility of a longer wait in the bunker. Arrangements began for dinner, I made a quick visit to my office upstairs and came down with whatever I needed if we had to stay put overnight - laptop, chargers, headphones, some reading material and a cushion!

7:45 PM – There was unexpected news that we could leave the bunker and head home. We naturally should be relieved and happy, right? But I was thinking in my mind “am too comfortable to leave the bunker now!” Nevertheless, I phoned my family, responded to a couple of emails and headed home at 9:30 pm.

12:30 AM – I had been doing random stuff, charging up devices and struggling with the internet for 2 hours. I finally gave up and decided to call it a day. Office or no office, there was still work to do. This does not translate to sheer dedication to work. I find work a wonderful diversion and an escape mechanism without having to dwell on the crisis.

1:30 AM – I woke up abruptly and wondered if it was already morning, only to realize that heavy gun fire had woken me up. I sat up not sure of what to do. My housemate was away in India and I did not fancy being all by myself in the house under the circumstances. Shortly, a message said ‘go to safehaven’. I headed to the gym cum bunker downstairs with just my phone and BB. I hung around for about 20 minutes (on the tread mill in fact), then decided I might as well stay put in the bunker the whole night equipped. It was less troublesome than going back and forth. So then I came up to get my stuff but heard voices next door.

Soon enough I was at my colleague’s house, she was sweet enough to have me over. We discussed animatedly about the ongoing situation, trying to assess what and why, the black hawks, the rockets, the machine guns, etc. I have always admired my colleague’s house which is tastefully done. So amidst all that was happening, I made a mental note of stuff I should pick up from Istalif before I leave Afghanistan. We made ourselves Indian chai and butter toast at 3 am! Aah, the simple pleasures in the middle of a crisis! But on a more serious note, I had the easier task on hand, to just follow instructions. Finally at a point, we were convinced that it was okay not to be in the bunker and we could get some sleep. So, I returned back to my room at 4 am.

The gun fire had not ceased completely. The constant drone of the ‘black hawks’ and the firing of machine guns, and possibly rockets too, kept me awake. It was not fear, what was scary rather was the lack of fear. I felt nothing almost. Not wanting to turn on the lights though, I sat in the darkness of my room trying to recount the day’s experience which somehow seemed like a blur. But my mind was racing and I had to pen the day’s events. When I was done, it was 6 am and the warm morning light was filtering in through the curtains. It was a beautiful morning, if not marred by the persistent heavy sounds. I did not think I could sleep but it was too early by my standards to start doing anything else. So I hit the bed, more to stretch having kept awake the whole night. With hope of a quieter day, I surprising let sleep envelop me.