This is part three of a series of articles based on reporting by Adil Shahzeb – DawnNews correspondent currently in Afghanistan in the aftermath of the Taliban takeover.

The desperation is palpable.

The crowd, the chaos and the sound of gunshots — there is nothing stopping the thousands of Afghans who have amassed outside the airport with only one thing on their minds: leaving the country.

It took us only 10-15 minutes to reach Hamid Karzai International Airport from downtown Kabul. The roads are clear up until the airport boundary, where Taliban fighters are stationed.

At the gate, large bus after bus arrives carrying hundreds of people that Western governments are racing to evacuate ahead of an airlift deadline. They are being allowed in after checking their travel documents.

But hundreds and thousands more are not lucky enough to be on these coaches. They wait in the afternoon heat, holding backpacks, men, women and children, in the hopes of getting onto a plane. USA, Canada, Europe — anywhere but this country, it seems.

We are told word has spread in the country that one could be allowed on board a Western flight even if they do not possess a passport or visa. And so the arrivals continue, and with them, disorder. As part of crowd control measures, the Taliban resort to aerial firing every now and then.

Anas Barakzai, a local journalist, tells us that while many of those seeking to fly out are people who fear the Taliban, have worked with Western governments or for Afghan forces, some others are at the airport because they just want to grab an opportunity to move to a Western country, no questions asked.

While reporting from outside the airport, Taliban fighters stop us from filming twice and ask us to move, citing a security risk — despite us showing the accreditation letter issued by Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid. I was initially stopped by Taliban’s Badri Brigade 313 and it took me half an hour to explain to them how I have legal permission to work as a journalist.

I left the airport gate but carried out filming and speaking to people wanting to flee. That’s when we were approached by another Taliban official, Shah Ghaasi, in a car right behind us who agrees to a chat soon after stopping us for a second time from filming.

Reiterating the general amnesty announcement, he says the Taliban have not ordered anyone to leave, and that those who cooperated with Western governments in the past are leaving "taking advantage of the chance to go to America or Canada".

And then, barely 30 minutes after we left the scene, the worst of all fears comes true.

A large explosion rocks the area outside Kabul airport. We watch with dread as reports start pouring in of injuries — and they soon turn into casualties, and then deaths. The numbers rise as the evening dissipates into the night.

Kabul has been here before.

Related: 'I saw doomsday,' says Kabul airport blast survivor

As we stand outside the city's main Emergency Surgical Centre for War Victims hospital at night, ambulance after ambulance is still bringing the injured and the dead.

The air of political uncertainty and confusion is now filled with grief and mourning. Relatives of people who spent the day at the airport with dreams of a safe and stable tomorrow in their minds are now having to look for and identify their bodies.

It is difficult to marshal our emotions. There is gratitude, for having avoided the carnage by a matter of a few minutes. And then there is immense sorrow, for the people who were virtually standing next to us only hours ago; for the innocents who never opted for this war but today became one of its innumerable victims.

As the day ends, the death toll of Afghans has reportedly risen to 60. Years of journalism experience does not prepare you for such apocalyptic tragedies which has become normal for Afghans in the past forty years.

When I returned to my hotel that night, just a few hundred meters away from the hospital, I could not concentrate on anything. Whilst I was struggling to go to sleep, another huge blast jolted our hotel building.

Next morning, the scene at the airport suggested nothing had happened last night, with people desperate to leave back.

As we left the information ministry building in Kabul the other day, we saw a young boy taking a nap on the roadside, using an empty school bag as pillow. A couple of shoe polish containers and brushes sit by his head.

This child cannot go the airport to be evacuated by a Western government because he did not work for them. He must stay for now. But whether he, like the rest of his fellow countrymen, will see the tragedy of Afghanistan come to an enduring end is anyone's guess.

Copy by Adeel Ahmed