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It is remarkable how a person is capable of both undeniable acts of evil, and yet, at the same time, capable of acts beyond the extraordinary. Sometimes, a simple act, lost in the turmoil of youth, cowardice or entrenched culture, can be transformed into courage, resilience and kinship.
Such is the story of Amir and Hassan.
For what begins as an unforgiving hierarchy of castes and deception, unravels to reveal humanity, forgiveness and ultimately, salvation.
Not all things appear as they seem.
How often do we find ourselves at crossroads of our lives? Who’d think that a simple act of merely walking away would possess the power to twist fate? Or presumptuously assume fate is decided and already set in stone?
“Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be. Or maybe, it was meant not to be.”
Irony comes masked in infinite forms. Sometimes to a child with every worldly possession imaginable, except for the affection of his parent. Or to a child often ridiculed, left to endure the humiliation for a promise he made.
My vision sweeps across the pages, mesmerized as the words begin to dance off the pages. Slowly at first, then gaining momentum, till it reaches a dizzying velocity. Spinning around and around, peeking hazy pictures until clarity overtakes.
Then sounds. Then smells.
I find my breath synchronize with every character. Their emotions amplified in mine. And I can see the kites soaring in the clear blue sky. In every detail, complete with the unmistakable signature of the old maker near the kite’s spine. I hear the faint swooshing sound as the kite slices through the wind. I hear the children’s laughter.
I recognize Hassan in a distance, running for Amir’s ‘trophy’. Briefly, he turns towards me, honoring me with his harelip smile. I see blood oozing out of Amir’s fingers, as the tar bites through the skin.
Joy. Sorrow. Despair. Hope.
And in an instant, we are one.
The only image I wish to erase is the same blood that flow through both boys, staining the pristine white snow that fateful day.
While courage doesn’t always roar, fate has a knack to end up on rewind. Perhaps giving opportunities to right the wrongs that have come to past; and to wash away the burden we make such a concerted effort to shoulder.
I spent the night absorbed in this alternate universe. Flipping page after page, unable to detach myself from this book as my appendages fused with the soft beige paper. My vision transfixed on the flurry of words that weave such magic. Only feeling the desire to finish what I started for fear that each breath would have been my last.
Intent on not letting this story escape me. If there's one book anyone should read. It should be this.
I almost died at work after the reading marathon. I finished the book in a night. I don’t think I would recommend the same feat to anyone simply because my eyeballs nearly popped from their sockets and you know, lethargy drives the mind in all the wrong directions.
But if you ask if all this was worth it, let’s just say, “for you, a thousand times over.”
Such is the story of Amir and Hassan.
For what begins as an unforgiving hierarchy of castes and deception, unravels to reveal humanity, forgiveness and ultimately, salvation.
Not all things appear as they seem.
How often do we find ourselves at crossroads of our lives? Who’d think that a simple act of merely walking away would possess the power to twist fate? Or presumptuously assume fate is decided and already set in stone?
“Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be. Or maybe, it was meant not to be.”
Irony comes masked in infinite forms. Sometimes to a child with every worldly possession imaginable, except for the affection of his parent. Or to a child often ridiculed, left to endure the humiliation for a promise he made.
My vision sweeps across the pages, mesmerized as the words begin to dance off the pages. Slowly at first, then gaining momentum, till it reaches a dizzying velocity. Spinning around and around, peeking hazy pictures until clarity overtakes.
Then sounds. Then smells.
I find my breath synchronize with every character. Their emotions amplified in mine. And I can see the kites soaring in the clear blue sky. In every detail, complete with the unmistakable signature of the old maker near the kite’s spine. I hear the faint swooshing sound as the kite slices through the wind. I hear the children’s laughter.
I recognize Hassan in a distance, running for Amir’s ‘trophy’. Briefly, he turns towards me, honoring me with his harelip smile. I see blood oozing out of Amir’s fingers, as the tar bites through the skin.
Joy. Sorrow. Despair. Hope.
And in an instant, we are one.
The only image I wish to erase is the same blood that flow through both boys, staining the pristine white snow that fateful day.
While courage doesn’t always roar, fate has a knack to end up on rewind. Perhaps giving opportunities to right the wrongs that have come to past; and to wash away the burden we make such a concerted effort to shoulder.
I spent the night absorbed in this alternate universe. Flipping page after page, unable to detach myself from this book as my appendages fused with the soft beige paper. My vision transfixed on the flurry of words that weave such magic. Only feeling the desire to finish what I started for fear that each breath would have been my last.
Intent on not letting this story escape me. If there's one book anyone should read. It should be this.
I almost died at work after the reading marathon. I finished the book in a night. I don’t think I would recommend the same feat to anyone simply because my eyeballs nearly popped from their sockets and you know, lethargy drives the mind in all the wrong directions.
But if you ask if all this was worth it, let’s just say, “for you, a thousand times over.”
