This is a passage from the book The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini about my hometown in Pakistan.
If Peshawar was the city that reminded me of what Kabul used to be, then Islamabad was the city Kabul could have become someday. The streets were wider than Peshawar's, cleaner, and lined with rows of hibiscus and flame trees. The bazaars were more organized and not nearly as clogged with rickshaws and pedestrians. The architecture was more elegant too, more modern, and I saw parks where roses and jasmine bloomed in the shadows of trees.
(name) found a small hotel on a side street running alone the foot of the Margalla Hills, W passed the famous Shah Faisal Mosque on the way there, reputedly the biggest mosque in the world, with its giant concrete girders and soaring minarets. (name) perked up at the sight of the mosque, leaned out of the window and looked at it until (name) turned a corner.