Even as night settles over Quetta, there are plenty of cars whizzing past us as we disappear into a two-story house along Sattar Road. We grope the walls on either side as we take every cautious step up a set of very narrow stairs, engulfed in darkness. We reach the top floor, but our path is barred by a closed door – I rap my knuckles on it, and our feet are suddenly illuminated by light spilling out from under the gap. It swings open. With a lit cigarette in hand, a cloud of smoke billows out from Danish’s lips, scattering the electrical light so that it almost looks like he is briefly surrounded by a halo before the smoke eventually dissipates in the air. At just 22 years of age, Danish has seen and experienced far more than anyone would want to in a lifetime.