I met the morning of August 14, 1988, on the mountain road leading from the Afghan city of Shindand to Herat and then to my native Kushka. A group of journalists was supposed to capture the long-awaited withdrawal of the motorized rifle regiment, which shot back for 5 years of the war, as they say, in full. For a better view, a plywood"rain" podium was hastily put together, as was usually done at demonstrations and impromptu rallies. And now, along the road, IFVs were dusted with dust, and tanks screeched their tracks menacingly... Not being constrained by conventions, the personnel settled down on the armor and joyfully greeted the writing and filming fraternity. But the black-haired Afghan girl who stood next to the general who accompanied us was particularly warmly greeted, waving her arms and hats bleached by the sun. "Mawluda, ur-r-r-ra!" "sometimes it came from the armor. "Probably from some Kabul newspaper," I thought, and decided to get to know my colleague better. What struck me was not so much her modest Afghan attire, but her amazing, well, simply piercing oriental beauty. Black almond-shaped eyes, a strictly symmetrical spread of eyebrows and a smile that is somewhat similar to the smile of Mona Lisa, only in Persian execution. Later it turned out that Mawlyuda was well-versed in Dari and Farsi languages, in the original she quoted the classics of Persian - Tajik literature Firdousi, Hafiz and Omar Khayyam, and as for the city of Herat, she could have worked here as a guide-she was so well versed in the ancient architecture and painting of the masters of the Herat school. "Girl, may I ask you something," I said, trying to get her to talk, in a loose gypsy tone. "I'm studying the mountains,"she said with a charming smile. "That's it?" "Isn't that enough?".. "Don't ask stupid questions and you won't get stupid answers," the Australian weekly correspondent, who was obviously also fascinated by Mawlyuda, advised me in English, hiccupping from whiskey. In Kus ... Читать далее