It’s 1986. 17-year old Pakistani student, Sikander, is enamored with America and longs to live there. But enraged after a quarrel with parents he decides to leave home. After meeting visiting Afghan mujahideen he joins their struggle against the Soviets in Afghanistan. Along with fighting, he finds love, just as US-supplied weapons bring victory to hand. Marrying his love, he returns with her to Pakistan, becoming an entrepreneur there. But when 9/11 happens, Sikander must return to Afghanistan to help escaping relatives, placing him on a collision course with the country in which he still yearns to live—America.
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It’s 1986. Seventeen-year-old Sikander dreams of studying and living in America. But enraged after a father-and-son confrontation over an unintended indiscretion about the family, he feels compelled to leave his comfortable Peshawar, Pakistan home. He soon encounters Afghan mujahideen fighters who persuade him to join their struggle against the occupying Soviets.
The tide of the conflict begins to turn with Ronald Reagan's stepped up supply of advanced weapons with which Sikander becomes increasingly familiar. Two years following Sikander’s arrival the Soviets finally commit to withdrawing and by now, Sikander also discovers romance. As his love blossoms and with the encouragement of his Afghan hosts he marries and he and his bride take a mule journey over the mountains to Pakistan, where he is warmly welcomed and reconciles with family.
With the war over, Sikander settles in Pakistan to become a successful entrepreneur there. The yearning to live in America continues to burn away at him and he works to fulfill his dream but it is rudely shattered on 9/11. His wife’s anguish together with his own concern for his Afghan relatives drive him to cross into Afghanistan to assist them. Despite a pro- and anti-Taliban rift in the family, Sikander persuades them to escape the war-ravaged country with him. The perilous journey, however, places Sikander himself on a collision course with the one country he’s always dreamed of—America.
Home. The word acquired new depth and breadth in Sikander’s mind. He wanted to swim in its welcoming warmth. It was a warmth that penetrated the coldest, darkest recesses of his consciousness—recesses which even in the short span of his life thus far had needed to make room for memories of conflict, hatred, dismemberment, death, and friends lost, now each an integral part of his being. Unlike a necrotic limb, however, they could never be amputated from his psyche.