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own dreams for Sohrab。
While Sohrab was silent； the world was not。 One Tuesday morning last September； the Twin Towers came crumbling down and； overnight； the world changed。 The American flag suddenly appeared everywhere； on the antennae of yellow cabs weaving around traffic； on the lapels of pedestrians walking the sidewalks in a steady stream； even on the grimy caps of San Francisco s pan handlers sitting beneath the awnings of small art galleries and open…fronted shops。 One day I passed Edith； the homeless woman who plays the accordion every day on the corner of Sutter and Stockton； and spotted an American flag sticker on the accordion case at her feet。
Soon after the attacks； America bombed Afghanistan； the Northern Alliance moved in； and the Taliban scurried like rats into the caves。 Suddenly； people were standing in grocery store lines and talking about the cities of my childhood； Kandahar； Herat； Mazar…i…Sharif。 When I was very little； Baba took Hassan and me to Kunduz。 I don t remember much about the trip； except sitting in the shade of an acacia tree with Baba and Hassan； taking turns sipping fresh watermelon juice from a clay pot and seeing who could spit the seeds farther。 Now Dan Rather； Tom Brokaw； and people sipping lattes at Starbucks were talking about the battle for Kunduz； the Taliban s last stronghold in the north。 That December； Pashtuns； Tajiks； Uzbeks； and Hazaras gathered in Bonn and； under the watchful eye of the UN； began the process that might someday end over twenty years of unhappiness in their watan。 Hamid Karzai s caracul hat and green chapan became famous。
Sohrab sleepwalked through it all。
Soraya and I became involved in Afghan projects； as much out of a sense of civil duty as the need for something……anything……to fill the silence upstairs； the silence that sucked everything in like a black hole。 I had never been the active type before； but when a man named Kabir； a former Afghan ambassador to Sofia； called and asked if I wanted to help him with a hospital project； I said yes。 The small hospital had stood near the Afghan…Pakistani border and had a small surgical unit that treated Afghan refugees with land mine injuries。 But it had closed down due to a lack of funds。 I became the project manager； Soraya my anager。 I spent most of my days in the study； e…mailing people around the world； applying for grants； organizing fund…raising events。 And telling myself that bringing Sohrab here had been the right thing to do。
The year ended with Soraya and me on the couch； blanket spread over our legs； watching Dick Clark on TV。 People cheered and kissed when the silver ball dropped； and confetti whitened the screen。 In our house； the new year began much the same way the last one had ended。 In silence。
THEN； FOUR DAYS AGO； on a cool rainy day in March 2002； a small； wondrous thing happened。
I took Soraya； Khala Jamila； and Sohrab to a gathering of Afghans at Lake Elizabeth Park in Fremont。 The general had finally been summoned to Afghanistan the month before for a ministry position； and had flown there two weeks earlier……he had left behind hi