The Kite Runner
It’s a wonderful book. A friend of mine gave it to me. I wasn’t looking for a book. I was bored and a long weekend awaited me. None of my friends were around and so I thought “wish there was a book”. All I did was ask around. I have always noticed. You read a book only when it is time for you to. It just waits for you to find it, biding it’s time. It maybe right in front of your face but you would not have noticed it. Because it’s not yet time for you to read it.
I didn’t expect much from the book. The author – Khalid Housseini. His name sounded familiar. But that’s where the recognition ended. When I get a book, my fingers itch to turn the pages J. Strange isn’t it? It was also the case here. Usually I decided whether to read a book or not by the first few pages. I started reading the first page and soon I had read 10. When I glanced at my wrist watch and saw how the time flew, I knew that I was hooked. Big time. With reluctance I marked the page and closed it. It was Friday and I was waiting to go home and complete the book. Friday night and with a book! As soon as I was home, I started reading. And as usual I couldn’t keep the book down. Soon I was into the book. I became one of characters, perhaps a casual by stander on the streets of Kabul. I watched Amir play with Hassan. I saw that it was always Hassan who stood up for Amir and never the other way around. I saw Amir’s jealousy when his Baba praised Hassan. After all, Hassan was just a Hazara’s son. A servant’s son. I saw Kabul in the 1970’s when peace prevailed. But there were always undercurrents running. Like a river biding it’s time to flood the town on it’s banks. I saw how Amir stood helpless when the street bullies raped his best friend. He didn’t do anything. He didn’t say a word to anyone. Why? Was it just because he was guilty that he couldn’t stand up to Hassan? Or did it mean more than that? It was the day Amir had won the competition in flying kites and finally made his Baba proud. His baba finally recognized Amir as his son. Was this the reason Amir didn’t tell anyone about Hassan? A childish jealousy perhaps that the attention would once again be stolen by Hassan. I wonder. I almost screamed out to Amir not to hide his money under Hassan’s mattress. Not to lie to his Baba that Hassan had stolen it. I cried harder when Hassan didn’t say a word when he was questioned just so that Amir would get what he wanted. Hassan left with his father. Nothing was the same anymore. The river had finally flooded the town. Kabul was taken over by the Russians. Amir and his Baba fled to Peshawar and then to New York.
The best part was when Amir returned to bring Hassan’s son back. The special bond formed by the little boy and his father’s friend. I learnt what it means to make promises to a child. You either keep it or don’t bother making it. I would read this book a thousand times over and not get fed up of it….hats off to the author…..
“………for you, a thousand times over!”
- The Kite Runner, Khalid Housseini
Often I wonder, is human life more important than what religion I belong to? I hope that this is not a story that happened. But I know all the atrocities that were done to Hassan's son and even to Hassan himself is not something new. This is just a book. We read it, think about it for a day, a week, a month at the most. But then what after that? Even as I write this I know somewhere a child's innocence is being destroyed. Isnt there anything we can do?
