It was only a smile, nothing more. It didn't make everything all right. It didn't make ANYTHING all right. Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird's flight. But I'll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time, and maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting. - Amir
Hassan returned the smile. Except his didn't look forced. And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too
Kalau kau membunuh seorang pria kau mencuri kehidupannya. Kau mencuri seorang suami dari istrinya, merampok seorang ayah dari anak-anaknya. Kalau kau menipu, kau mencuri hak seseorang untuk mendapatkan kebenaran. Kalau kau berbuat curang, kau mencuri hak seseorang untuk mendapatkan keadilan.
Sebenarnya aku berusaha menjadi pengecut karena pilihan lainnya, alasan sebenarnya aku melarikan diri, adalah karena Assef mengatakan kebenaran: Tak ada yang gratis di dunia ini.
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 the wind screeched through the yards, the streets. But mostly because, as the trees froze and ice sheathed the roads, the chill between Baba and me thawed a little. And the reason for that was the kites. 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.
Mungkin ini tidak adil, tapi sesuatu yang terjadi dalam beberapa hari, kadang-kadang bahkan dalam sehari, bisa mengubah keseluruhan jalan hidup seseorang.
Tidak ada kata yang terucap, tidak ada yang perlu kami katakan, inilah harta yang dimiliki oleh mereka yang menyimpan kenangan yang sama, yang saling menjadi kenangan pertama, yang menyusu dari payudara yang sama.
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 alley near the frozen creek. 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. Looking back now, I realize I have been peeking into that deserted alley for the last twenty-six years.