I was led to house and into a room filled with cigarette smoke. I was made to sit. I sensed at least five or six people. For two hours I was grilled. Questions were fired at me from around the room until I began to perspire nervously. As the questioning continued I began to piece it together. The Al Qaeda had snatched me from Afghanistan and brought me to Pakistan. I was a bit surprised. Pakistan seems to be way out of the centre of the action. ''Why are you here?'' I heard the question for what seems like the one millionth time. ''To see the Sheikh'' I replied.

I spent three days in Kabul. Mir Mohammed and Mohammed of Panshir were with me throughout. I expected one of them to take me to Osama as soon as we arrived at the capital, but they both sat and acted as if I had come on a sight seeing mission. My patience was tested and as soon as the sun set on the third day I complained. Mir Mohammed does not understand English but he must have noticed my restlessness and as soon as I started grumbling he started laughing. I looked at Mohammed of Panjir for a meaning of the laughter but he only shrugged and smiled.

I have known several writers who, in addition to creating original material like articles, short fiction, poetry, and blogs, take on jobs of writing copy for advertising agencies, editing and/or proofreading documents, writing resumes, writing T.V. and radio scripts, and ghostwriting. They usually do so for additional income, and the key to earning that additional income is that they continually add value to themselves.