Apr 03, 2008 04:17 PM
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I was as usual on time for the meeting and found myself staring at the books lined cupboard. Soon the phone call was over and our meeting began; throughout which, I furtively glanced at the books. Most of the ones there, I’d read and then, I noticed The Kite Runner. As soon as the meeting was over, I managed to borrow it.
My love for books, probably, is just written all over my face because this 50 something veteran journalist, the editor of a local daily, had no qualms about lending it to me.
I am not sorry to admit that I am not so generous with my books. I rarely share them – because over the years I have seen that there are many people around, who borrow books and then simply fail to return them and my pathetic memory helps them getting away with it too!
Anyways, clutching the book close, I thanked the man sincerely and left the building. Reading borrowed books is different from reading books you own, don’t you think? I finished the book as soon as was humanely possible for me. I had wanted to read this one for long and finally I did.
*Intro:
*The Kite Runner is a painfully honest story dealing with raw emotions. The sheer nakedness of the various feelings brings a lump in your throat.
Khaled Hosseini has bared open one of the strongest relationships in the world – the relationship that is shared between two friends. No siblings, family or relatives can ever come close to this kind of love. Long after I finished reading the book, I could still hear Hassan calling out, ‘For you, a thousand times over’.
*The story:
*The Kite Runner is the story of Amir, Hassan and Baba(Agha sahib) set in the 1960s in Afghanistan.
The story begins with Amir, the narrator, receiving a phone call from Baba’s closest friend Rahim Khan. Amir realizes that the one incident in his childhood that changed his entire life was not his secret alone, when Rahim Khan tells him, ‘There is a way to be good again.’ Amir then begins his tale of friendship, love, jealousy, hatred, repentance, pride, and rivalry, transporting the readers to Kabul.
Amir, a twelve- year-old boy born and brought up in Kabul is anxious to get an encouraging glance from his father. For Amir, his father- Baba, is his role model, his hero, and he forever waits for that one elusive appreciative nod from him. Amir’s devoted friend, Hassan, the servant Ali’s son, is favored by Baba. Hassan is easily the stronger, faster and better of the two and inwardly, Amir resents that.
In a bid to catch his father’s eye, Amir decides to participate in the festival of kite-flying and bring home the trophy to appease Baba. Hassan promises to help Amir like always. While running the kite Amir brings down, Hassan is assaulted by Assef, who hates Hassan’s guts and his low caste status. Amir remembers how Hassan had threatened to blind Assef’s eye with his slingshot once, protecting Amir and yet Amir watches Hassan getting raped and does not go forward help him.
This incident haunts him forever. In a matter of weeks Hassan forgives Amir but Amir cannot forgive himself. And there begins his saga.
Amir accuses Hassan and his father Ali, falsely, of stealing, in order to make his Baba loathe Hassan. Baba had told him once that stealing is the worst sin. Hassan again defeats Amir by accepting a crime he had not committed. Amir is aghast when he sees his Baba weep and forgive the servants. However, insulted and hurt Ali and his son Hassan, leave the house never to return. Baba and Amir go on with their lives. Political unrest forces them to move to the United States of America. Baba works hard to support his son and is happy to see him succeed. Amir finishes college, finds a nice Afghani refugee, Soraya and settles down. Soon after Amir and Soraya get married Baba succumbs to a terminal illness. Amir and Soraya’s life goes on comfortably in the new world.
One day, Rahim Khan gives him that call. Amir goes to Pakistan to meet him and finds out some things that changes his outlook completely. Powerful past secrets that changes things in his present.
Does Amir finally find his redemption? What happens to Hassan and Ali? Is Amir able to forgive himself?
Read the book to find out.
The book begins beautifully and we see a powerful writer but in the later half of the book the story telling isn’t as compelling. The story is about Amir and his guilt and his cowardice, yet, I felt the book belonged to Hassan.
The book could have ended in a better way. Hassan’s, ‘For you a thousand times over’ left and indelible impression on the readers yet in the end when Amir says the same for Hassan’s son Sohrab it feels hollow and somehow loses that special charm Hassan’s words had.
*Excerpts:
“Hassan and I fed from the same breasts. We took our first steps on the same lawn in the same yard. And, under the same roof, we spoke our first words.
Mine was Baba.
His was Amir. My name. ”
-
“Sometimes, up in those trees, I talked Hassan into firing walnuts with his slingshot at the neighbour’s one-eyed German shepherd. Hassan never wanted to, but if I asked, he wouldn’t deny me. Hassan never denied me anything.”
-
“No matter what the mullah teaches, 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 alife. You steal his wife’s right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. Do you see?”
-
“You know, I think you’re going to make Agha sahib very proud tomorrow.”
“You think so?”
“Inshallah, ” he said.
“Inshaallah, I echoed, though the “God willing” qualifier didn’t sound as sincere coming from my lips. That was the thing with Hassan. He was so goddamn pure, you always felt like a phony around him.
-
“He had a kite in his hand. A blue one.”
“He did?” I said. For you a thousand times over, he’d promised. Good old Hassan. Good old reliable Hassan. He’d kept his promise and run the last kite for me.
-
“Hassan didn’t struggle. Didn’t even whimper. He moved his head slightly and I caught a glimpse of his face. Saw the resignation in it. It was a look I had seen before. It was the look of a lamb.
-
I stopped watching, turned from the alley. Something warm was running down my wrist. I blinked, saw I was still biting down my fist, hard enough to draw blood from the knuckles. I realized something else. I was weeping. From just round the corner, I could hear Assef’s quick, rhythmic grunts.
I had one last chance to make a decision. One final opportunity to decide who Iwas going to be. I could step into that alley, stand up for Hassan – the way he had stood up for me all those times in the past- and accept whatever would happen to me. Or I could run.
In the end, I ran.
-
