The Kite Runner

Ahmad Zahir

I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.

longhaired men and women we always saw hanging

despite his illiteracy, or maybe because of it, Hassan was drawn to the mystery of words, seduced by a secret world forbidden to him.

Because the past claws its way out.

that, I believe, is what true redemption is, Amir jan, when guilt leads to good.

That was the thing with Hassan. He was so goddamn pure, you always felt like a phony around him.

classical ghazal by Ustad Sarahang.

There are a lot of children in Afghanistan, but little childhood.