We visited the Lok Virsa museum, and it was a joy to celebrate our national heritage once again.
我们参观了洛克维萨民俗博物馆，与我们国家的历史文化遗迹与传承欣然相遇。
Our own museum in Swat had closed.
斯瓦特的博物馆早已关闭了。
On the steps outside an old man was selling popcorn.
外面的阶梯上，一个老人在贩售爆米花。
He was a Pashtun like us, and when my father asked if he was from Islamabad he replied, 'Do you think Islamabad can ever belong to us Pashtuns?'
他跟我们一样，是普什图人。当我的父亲询问他是否来自伊斯兰堡时，他回答道：“你觉得伊斯兰堡有任何属于我们普什图人的可能性吗？”
He said he came from Mohmand, one of the tribal areas, but had to flee because of a military operation.
他说他来自莫赫曼德，部落地区之一，但因为一场军事行动的缘故而逃来这里。
I saw tears in my parents' eyes.
我看到父母的眼中满含泪水。
Lots of buildings were surrounded by concrete blocks, and there were checkpoints for incoming vehicles to guard against suicide bombs.
伊斯兰堡许多建筑的外围都竖起了水泥墙，入口处设有检查哨，盘查过往车辆，以防自杀式炸弹袭击者的攻击。
When our bus hit a pothole on the way back my brother Khushal, who had been asleep, jerked awake.
回家的路上，巴士驶过一个坑洞，颠簸了一下，原本在睡觉的胡沙尔猛地惊醒过来。
'Was that a bomb blast?' he asked.
“刚刚是炸弹爆炸吗？”他问。
This was the fear that filled our daily lives.
这就是充斥我们日常生活的恐惧。
Any small disturbance or noise could be a bomb or gunfire.
任何风吹草动或噪音都被以为是炸弹或枪炮。
On our short trips we forgot our troubles in Swat.
在这次短暂的旅行中，我们暂时将有关斯瓦特的烦恼抛在脑后。
But we returned to the threats and danger as we entered our valley once again.
但一回到故乡的山谷，威胁与危险便接踵而至。
Even so, Swat was our home and we were not ready to leave it.
但即便如此，斯瓦特还是我们的家，我们还不准备离开这里。
Back in Mingora the first thing I saw when I opened my wardrobe was my uniform, school bag and geometry set. I felt so sad.
回到明戈拉，打开衣橱，一眼就看到我的制服、书包和数学用具。我很难过。
The visit to Islamabad had been a lovely break, but this was my reality now.
伊斯兰堡的旅程是一次短暂而美妙的休憩；而眼前的一切，才是我的真实人生。