I think it was the evening of September 23, last year when I went to Cinema Ariana to watch a very bad movie called The Black Tulip. After the movie, I walked from Forushgah to Shah Doshamshira bridge to catch the bus to West Kabul. On my way to bus station, I felt lost in the flooding river of crowd pressing me from all sides, it was like impossible to walk through all those cars, carts, men, women, porters, vendors, bicycles, motor bikes which intermingled under a thick blanket of sunset dust. It was the time when everyone especially the laborers, clerks, street children, beggars headed towards home and used the last minute chance to get the best bargains from fruit vendors who constantly shouted some repetitive words. In that crazy environment, I saw an old man standing on the edge of the Kabul river and praying with a relaxed and care-free attitude, it was impressive to watch him how he found a moment of solitude in the middle of that massive hysteric chaos.
I tried to take better photos, but everybody was pushing me, so all my efforts resulted in these shaky blurry shots that you see three of them here: