He stopped, turned. He cupped his hands around his mouth. ''For you a thousand times over!'' he said. Then he smiled his Hassan smile and disappeared around the corner.

I suspect the truth is that we are waiting, all of us, against insurmountable odds, for something extraordinary to happen to us.

War doesn't negate decency. It demands it, even more than in times of peace.

Perhaps this is just punishment for those who have been heartless, to understand only when nothing can be undone.

I laughed. Partly at the joke, partly at how Afghan humor never changed. Wars were waged, the Internet was invented, and a robot had rolled on the surface of Mars, and in Afghanistan we were still telling Mullah Nasruddin jokes.

In many parts of the world, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman. But I think we need women to solve the problems that men create.

Probably the single most commen response I get from my readesr, be it through e-mails or letters, is that they did not know much, or at times, they're quite frank, they didn't care much about Afghanistan. But they pay attention more after reading these novels, and at times it has triggered this humaitarian spirt: some have donated money or at time times, people have joined humatiarian organizations that work in Afghanistan.