The Kite Runner

by Khaled Hosseini

Sometimes, up in those trees, I talked Hassan into firing walnuts with his slingshot at the neighbor’s one-eyed German shepherd.

Damn

I went past the rosebushes to Baba’s mansion, Hassan to the mud shack where he had been born, where he’d lived his entire life.

Lost her to a fate most Afghans considered far worse than death: She ran off with a clan of traveling singers and dancers.

Hazara!

She was also his first cousin and therefore a natural choice for a spouse.

history. An entire chapter dedicated to Hassan’s people! In it, I read that my people, the Pashtuns, had persecuted and oppressed the Hazaras. It said the Hazaras had tried to rise against the Pashtuns in the nineteenth century, but the Pashtuns had “quelled them with unspeakable violence.” The book said

The book said part of the reason Pashtuns had oppressed the Hazaras was that Pashtuns were Sunni Muslims, while Hazaras were Shi’a.

She hadn’t needed much help at all, because, even in birth, Hassan was true to his nature: He was incapable of hurting anyone. A

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.

He told us one day that Islam considered drinking a terrible sin; those who drank would answer for their sin on the

“If there’s a God out there, then I would hope he has more important things to attend to than my drinking scotch or eating pork.

The generation of Afghan children whose ears would know nothing but the sounds of bombs and gunfire was not yet born.

And that’s the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.

And maybe, just maybe, I would finally be pardoned for killing my mother.

Forgot about the childbirth thing for a sec

“I’ll buy you one someday,” I said. Hassan’s face brightened. “A television? In truth?” “Sure. And not the black-and-white kind either. We’ll probably be grown-ups by then, but I’ll get us two. One for you and one for me.”

Ugh i love

“You know…I like where I live.” He was always doing that, reading my mind. “It’s my home.”

Me at silverwood

I kept stealing glances at Baba sitting with Rahim Khan on the roof, wondered what he was thinking. Was he cheering for me? Or did a part of him enjoy watching me fail?

“Of course, they’ve probably caught him by now,” the old merchant said, grunting and loading another box on the mule’s back.

WHAT

I opened my mouth, almost said something. Almost. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I had. But I didn’t. I just watched. Paralyzed.

Amir you are such a pussy!!!

In the end, I ran.

God i hate you

Maybe Hassan was the price I had to pay, the lamb I had to slay, to win Baba. Was

Baba’s motto about throwing parties was this: Invite the whole world or it’s not a party.

Yes same

“That same day, my father put Homaira and her family on a lorry and sent them off to Hazarajat. I never saw her again.”

Google this

“Tell him I’ll take a thousand of his bullets before I let this indecency take place,” Baba said.

Amir you could never you pussy!!!!

Some hero I had been, fretting about the kite. Sometimes, I too wondered if I was really Baba’s son.

YEAH SAME!!!!

Because if I don’t go down, I’m tearing him to pieces, goddamn his father!”

Thats hot i fear

WE RODE IN SILENCE for about fifteen minutes before the young woman’s husband suddenly stood and did something I’d seen many others do before him: He kissed Baba’s hand.

I would too

“I’ll tell you why,” Baba snapped. “Because he got paid for his leg of the trip. That’s all he cared about.” Karim was making guttural choking sounds. Spittle dripped from the corner of his mouth.

Aint that your bestie??????

discovered the source of the scratching sounds. Rats.

Kill me here fr

They made me sad for Baba. After everything he’d built, planned, fought for, fretted over, dreamed of, this was the summation of his life: one disappointing son and two suitcases.

Emphasis on the son part!

“Then do something about it! Take action. You’re Arabs, help the Palestinians, then!”

What America and the world needed was a hard man. A man to be reckoned with, someone who took action instead of wringing his hands. That someone came in the form of Ronald Reagan.

GIRL WHAT

For me, America was a place to bury my memories. For Baba, a place to mourn his.

thought of all the trucks, train sets, and bikes he’d bought me in Kabul. Now America. One last gift for Amir.

Baba rolled his head toward me. “I wish Hassan had been with us today,” he said.

Me mf too!!!

didn’t want to sacrifice for Baba anymore. The

WHAT HAVE YOU SACRIFICED

The only thing that flowed more than tea in those aisles was Afghan gossip.

YUHHHH

Soraya Taheri. My Swap Meet Princess.

Where my swap-meet prince fr

Undoubtedly, she had noticed that my appearances always coincided with her husband’s absences, but she never let on.

Wait i thought that was her dad

“Yes,” I lied. I thought of how I had used my literacy to ridicule Hassan. How I had teased him about big words he didn’t know.

Ya bc you suck!!!

I haggled with buyers over a dollar or two. Like any of it mattered. Like the day I would become an orphan wasn’t inching closer with each closing of shop.

Brother you are ultimately 22

“I’ll come back with your morphine and a glass of water, Kaka jan,” Soraya said. “Not tonight,” he said. “There is no pain tonight.” “Okay,” she said. She pulled up his blanket. We closed the door. Baba never woke up.

NOOOOOO

There was a sliver of fat, just a hint of it, beneath Soraya’s chin now. The past ten years had padded the curves of her hips some, and combed into her coal black hair a few streaks of cinder gray.

OKAY AND

wasn’t alone for all of them. Hassan lived there with me.”

Omggggg

“I want to tell you about him. I want to tell you everything. You will listen?”

I will also listen

The biggest one, Allah forgive me, was that I was lonely.

Can you not ve lonely??

A few weeks later, the Taliban banned kite fighting. And two years later, in 1998, they massacred the Hazaras in Mazar-i-Sharif.

Uhhhhh

Soon after I took my leave, a rumor spread that a Hazara family was living alone in the big house in Wazir Akbar Khan, or so the Taliban claim.

Oh im about to freak out

“It isn’t about money, Amir!” Rahim Khan roared. “I’m a dying man and I will not be insulted! It has never been about money with me, you know that. And why you? I think we both know why it has to be you, don’t we?”

even i know

You had servants, probably Hazaras. Your parents hired workers to decorate the house for the fancy mehmanis they threw, so their friends would come over to drink and boast about their travels to Europe or America. And I would bet my first son’s eyes that this is the first time you’ve ever worn a pakol.”

Clocked. But low key still dontknow how baba made all that money