And that, I believe, is what true redemption is, Amir Jan, when guilt leads to good.
If culture was a house, then language was the key to the front door, to all the rooms inside. Without it, he said, you ended up wayward, without proper home or a legimate identity.
She studies mathematics at the Sorbonne.....- Perhaps it's her way of rebelling. You know a thing or two about rebellion, I think.- Yes, but I did it in the proper way. I drank and smoked and took lov...
وجدت جنية صغيرةتحت ظل ورقة شجرةأعرف جنية، صغيرة وحزينةطيٌرتها الريح في ليلة شتوية
كانت الشوارع مملوءة بالجثث، والزجاج، وأكوام من القطع المعدنية. كان هناك نهب، قتل، وبشكل متزايد، الاغتصاب، والذى استخدم لترويع المدنيين ومكافأة لرجال الميليشيات. سمعت مريم عن نساء قتلن أنفسهن خوفا من أ...
Когато бях малка, с татко всяка вече си имахме ритуал. След като си кажех обичайните двайсет „Бисмиллах и той ме настанеше в леглото, сядаше до мен и отскубваше лошите сънища с палеца и показалеца си....
You see, some things I can teach you. Some you learn from books. But there are things that, well, you have to see and feel.
You say you felt a presence, but I only sensed an absence. A vague pain without a source. I was like a patient who cannot tell the doctor where it hurts, only that it does.
There is a way to be good againFor you, a thousand times overNot a word passes between us, not because we have nothing to say, but because we don't have to say anythingIt's wrong what they say about t...
That was when I learned that, in America, you don't reveal the ending of the movie, and if you do, you will be scorned and made to apologize profusely for having committed the sin of Spoiling the End.
That was a long time ago, but it's wrong what they say about the past, I've learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out.
Panic. You open your mouth. Open it so wide your jaws creak. You order your lungs to draw air, NOW, you need air, need it NOW. But your airways ignore you. They collapse, tighten, squeeze, and suddenl...
Not a word passes between us, not because we have nothing to say, but because we don't have to say anything - that is how, it is between people who are each other's first memories
Make morning into a key and throw it into the well,go slowly , my lovely moon, go slowly.
I wanted to tell them that, in Kabul, we snapped a tree branch and used it as a credit card. Hassan and I would take the wooden stick to the bread maker. He'd carve notches on our stick with his knife...
I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like a cloud and float away, melt into this humid summer night and dissolve somewhere far, over the hills. But I am here, my legs bloc...
I didn't want her turned, against both her will and nature, into those diligent, sad women who are bent on a lifelong course of quiet servitude, forever in fear of showing, saying, or doing the wrong...
For courage, there must be something at stake. I come here with nothing to lose.
Each snowflake was a sigh heard by an aggrieved woman somewhere in the world. All the sighs drifted up the sky, gathered into clouds, then broke into tiny pieces that fell silently on the people below...
At last, she makes her choice. She turns around, drops her head, and walks toward a horizon she cannot see. After that, she does not look back anymore. She knows that if she does, she will weaken.