Baba and I lived in the same house, but in different spheres of existence. Kites were the one paper-thin slice of intersection between those spheres.
Hills that stand soft and a sky that stands high and blue, and the sun setting behind a windmill, and always, always, hazy strings of mountains that fall and fall away on the horizon.
December 2001 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 alle...
Boys, Laila came to see, treated friendship the way they treated the sun: its existence undisputed; its radiance best enjoyed, not beheld directly.
I said to you,Hold my hand.Nothing bad will happen.These are only words.A father's tricks,It slays your father,your faith in him.Because all I can think tonight ishow deep the sea,and how vast, how in...
I looked westward and marveled that, somewhere over those mountains, Kabul still existed. It really existed, not just as an old memory, or as the heading of an AP story on page 15 of the San Francisco...
Public justice is the greatest kind of show, my brother. Drama. Suspense. And best of all education en masse.
It is a heartBreaking sound, Amir Jan, the Wailing of a mother. I pray to Allah you Never hear it.
And the past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion.
Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.
Anak-anak bukanlah buku mewarnai. Kau tidak bisa begitu saja mengisi mereka dengan warna-warna kesukaanmu.
For you, a thousand times over!
She thought of Aziza's stutter, and of what Aziza had said earlier about fractures and powerful collisions deep down and how sometimes all we see on the surface is a slight tremor.
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. - Amir
I loved wintertime in Kabul. I loved it for the soft pattering of snow against my window at night, for the way fresh snow crunched under my black rubber boots, for the warmth of the cast-iron stove as...
But even when he wasn't around, he was.
Aku harus berkonsentrasi, tidak boleh melakukan kesalahan.
Perspective [is] a luxury when your head [is] constantly buzzing with a swarm of demons.
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 fat...
Soon, he would become an adult. And when he did, there would be not going back because adulthood was akin to what his father had once said about being a war hero: one you became one, you died one.