The Kite Runner - Part I

[If you intend to read this book, I strongly advice not to peruse this post]


The Kite Runner is a read that creates a lasting impact, especially if followed by the movie (that gives due justice to the book)! Story of strained relationships between two (almost brothers) friends, a father and a son, about guilt and forgiveness, about a total debacle of rich and vibrant culture and the emotional drama of lives entangled in Afghanistan from the late 1970s to early 2000s. Considered as the first novel written by an Afghani writer in English, it has surely touched upon many sentiments of courage, betrayal, ego, guilt, loyalty, identity, resilience. In awe of the way the writer brings out succinctly each of these emotions, below are some of my favorite parts from the book:


· “There is a way to be good again...”


· “I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975. I remember the precise moment, crouching behind a crumbling mud wall, peeking into the alley near the frozen creek. That was a long time ago, but it’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out. Looking back now, I realize I have been peeking into that deserted alley for the last twenty-six years.”


· “There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft... When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness.”


· Children aren't coloring books. You don't get to fill them with your favorite colors.”


· “Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it.”


· The shootings and explosions had scared us badly, because none of us had ever heard gunshots in the streets. They were foreign sounds to us then. The generation of Afghan children whose ears would know nothing but the sounds of bombs and gunfire was not yet born.


· “I dream that my son will grow up to be a good person, a free person. I dream that someday you will return to revisit the land of our childhood. I dream that flowers will bloom in the streets again and kites will fly in the skies.”


· “He walked like he was afraid to leave behind footsteps. He moved as if not to stir the air around him.”


· “… I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering it things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.”


· I brought Hassan’s son from Afghanistan to America, lifting him from the certainty of turmoil and dropping him in turmoil of uncertainty.”


· “Happiness like this is frightening. They only let you be this happy if they are preparing to take something from you.”


· “You see, General Sahib, my father slept with his servant's wife, and she bore him a son named Hassan. Hassan is dead now. That boy sleeping in the other room is Hassan's son. He's my nephew. That's what you tell people when they ask. And one more thing, General Sahib: you will never again refer to him as "a Hazara boy" in my presence. He has a name, and it's Sohrab.”


· “War doesn't negate decency. It demands it, even more than in times of peace.”


And of course,

“For you, a thousand times over”