卡奇米女士手表est1941要多少钱_百度知道
卡奇米女士手表est1941要多少钱
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all+stainless+steel手表&相关文章
故事发生在阿富汗，从童年开始讲起，12岁的阿富汗富家少爷阿米尔与仆人哈桑情同手足。然而，在一场风筝比赛后，他们两人得了冠军，哈桑为给阿米尔逐回落下的风筝，哈桑受到了一个经常辱骂“他父亲”的孩子阿塞夫的侮辱。这些都被阿米尔看到眼中，但是他没有勇气出面救哈桑。阿米尔的心理发生了变化，他为自己的懦弱感到自责，愧疚和痛苦，不再跟哈桑要好，后来还想办法诬陷哈桑偷了自己的手表与钱，虽然阿米尔的父亲原谅了哈桑，但是哈桑的父亲阿里（管家）还是带着哈桑离开了。随后，苏军侵略阿富汗，阿米尔的父亲带着阿米尔逃到了美国，并将家里的房子托付一个朋友和生意的合伙人拉辛汗看护。
成年后的阿米尔始终无法原谅自己当年对哈桑的背叛。为了赎罪，阿米尔再度踏上暌违二十多年的故乡，希望能为不幸的好友尽最后一点心力，却从病重的拉辛汗嘴里得知一个惊天谎言，哈桑其实不是管家的亲生儿子，哈桑是自己的父亲和管家老婆所生，即儿时的伙伴其实是自己的兄弟，被从恤孤院买到阿塞夫手中的哈桑的儿子是自己的侄子。儿时的噩梦再度重演，最终他历尽艰辛，救出了侄子，并将他带回了美国的家。TheKiteRunner追风筝的人-Chapter01UpdateRequiredToplaythemediayouwillneedtoeitherupdateyourbrowsertoarecentversionorupdateyourFlashplugin.
December2001
IbecamewhatIamtodayattheageoftwelve,onafrigidovercastdayinthewinterof1975.Iremembertheprecisemoment,crouchingbehindacrumblingmudwall,peekingintothealleynearthefrozencreek.Thatwasalongtimeago,butit'swrongwhattheysayaboutthepast,I'velearned,abouthowyoucanburyit.Becausethepastclawsitswayout.Lookingbacknow,IrealizeIhavebeenpeekingintothatdesertedalleyforthelasttwenty-sixyears.
Onedaylastsummer,myfriendRahimKhancalledfromPakistan.Heaskedmetocomeseehim.Standinginthekitchenwiththereceivertomyear,Iknewitwasn'tjustRahimKhanontheline.Itwasmypastofunatonedsins.AfterIhungup,IwentforawalkalongSpreckelsLakeonthenorthernedgeofGoldenGatePark.Theearly-afternoonsunsparkledonthewaterwheredozensofminiatureboatssailed,propelledbyacrispbreeze.ThenIglancedupandsawapairofkites,redwithlongbluetails,soaringinthesky.Theydancedhighabovethetreesonthewestendofthepark,overthewindmills,floatingsidebysidelikeapairofeyeslookingdownonSanFrancisco,thecityInowcallhome.AndsuddenlyHassan'svoicewhisperedinmyhead:Foryou,athousandtimesover.Hassantheharelippedkiterunner.
Isatonaparkbenchnearawillowtree.IthoughtaboutsomethingRahimKhansaidjustbeforehehungup,almostasanafterthought.Thereisawaytobegoodagain.Ilookedupatthosetwinkites.IthoughtaboutHassan.ThoughtaboutBaba.Ali.Kabul.IthoughtofthelifeIhadliveduntilthewinterof1975cameandchangedeverything.AndmademewhatIamtoday.
Whenwewerechildren,HassanandIusedtoclimbthepoplartreesinthedrivewayofmyfather'shouseandannoyourneighborsbyreflectingsunlightintotheirhomeswithashardofmirror.Wewouldsitacrossfromeachotheronapairofhighbranches,ournakedfeetdangling,ourtrouserpocketsfilledwithdriedmulberriesandwalnuts.Wetookturnswiththemirrorasweatemulberries,peltedeachotherwiththem,giggling,IcanstillseeHassanuponthattree,sunlightflickeringthroughtheleavesonhisalmostperfectlyroundface,afacelikeaChinesedollchiseledfromhardwood:hisflat,broadnoseandslanting,narroweyeslikebambooleaves,eyesthatlooked,dependingonthelight,gold,green,evensapphireIcanstillseehistinylow-setearsandthatpointedstubofachin,ameatyappendagethatlookedlikeitwasaddedasamereafterthought.Andthecleftlip,justleftofmidline,wheretheChinesedollmaker'sinstorperhapshehadsimplygrowntiredandcareless.
Sometimes,upinthosetrees,ItalkedHassanintofiringwalnutswithhisslingshotattheneighbor'sone-eyedGermanshepherd.Hassanneverwantedto,butifIasked,reallyasked,hewouldn'tdenyme.Hassanneverdeniedmeanything.Andhewasdeadlywithhisslingshot.Hassan'sfather,Ali,usedtocatchusandgetmad,orasmadassomeoneasgentleasAlicouldeverget.Hewouldwaghisfingerandwaveusdownfromthetree.Hewouldtakethemirrorandtelluswhathismotherhadtoldhim,thatthedevilshonemirrorstoo,shonethemtodistractMuslimsduringprayer."Andhelaughswhilehedoesit,?healwaysadded,scowlingathisson.
"Yes,Father,?Hassanwouldmumble,lookingdownathisfeet.Buthenevertoldonme.Nevertoldthatthemirror,likeshootingwalnutsattheneighbor'sdog,wasalwaysmyidea.
Thepoplartreeslinedtheredbrickdriveway,whichledtoapairofwrought-irongates.Theyinturnopenedintoanextensionofthedrivewayintomyfather'sestate.Thehousesatontheleftsideofthebrickpath,thebackyardattheendofit.
Everyoneagreedthatmyfather,myBaba,hadbuiltthemostbeautifulhouseintheWazirAkbarKhandistrict,anewandaffluentneighborhoodinthenorthernpartofKabul.SomethoughtitwastheprettiesthouseinallofKabul.Abroadentrywayflankedbyrosebushesledtothesprawlinghouseofmarblefloorsandwidewindows.Intricatemosaictiles,handpickedbyBabainIsfahan,coveredthefloorsofthefourbathrooms.Gold-stitchedtapestries,whichBabahadboughtinCalcutta,acrystalchandelierhungfromthevaultedceiling.
Upstairswasmybedroom,Baba'sroom,andhisstudy,alsoknownas"thesmokingroom,?whichperpetuallysmelledoftobaccoandcinnamon.BabaandhisfriendsreclinedonblackleatherchairsthereafterAlihadserveddinner.Theystuffedtheirpipes--exceptBabaalwayscalledit"fatteningthepipe?-anddiscussedtheirfavoritethreetopics:politics,business,soccer.SometimesIaskedBabaifIcouldsitwiththem,butBabawouldstandinthedoorway."Goon,now,?he'dsay."Thisisgrown-ups?time.Whydon'tyougoreadoneofthosebooksofyours??He'dclosethedoor,leavemetowonderwhyitwasalwaysgrown-ups?timewithhim.I'dsitbythedoor,kneesdrawntomychest.SometimesIsatthereforanhour,sometimestwo,listeningtotheirlaughter,theirchatter.
Thelivingroomdownstairshadacurvedwallwithcustombuiltcabinets.Insidesatframedfamilypictures:anold,grainyphotoofmygrandfatherandKingNadirShahtakenin1931,twoyearsbeforetheking'theyarestandingoveradeaddeer,dressedinknee-highboots,riflesslungovertheirshoulders.Therewasapictureofmyparents?weddingnight,Babadashinginhisblacksuitandmymotherasmilingyoungprincessinwhite.HerewasBabaandhisbestfriendandbusinesspartner,RahimKhan,standingoutsideourhouse,neitheronesmiling--IamababyinthatphotographandBabaisholdingme,lookingtiredandgrim.I'minhisarms,butit'sRahimKhan'spinkymyfingersarecurledaround.
Thecurvedwallledintothediningroom,atthecenterofwhichwasamahoganytablethatcouldeasilysitthirtyguests--and,givenmyfather'stasteforextravagantparties,itdidjustthatalmosteveryweek.Ontheotherendofthediningroomwasatallmarblefireplace,alwayslitbytheorangeglowofafireinthewintertime.
Alargeslidingglassdooropenedintoasemicircularterracethatoverlookedtwoacresofbackyardandrowsofcherrytrees.BabaandAlihadplantedasmallvegetablegardenalongtheeasternwall:tomatoes,mint,peppers,andarowofcornthatneverreallytook.HassanandIusedtocallit"theWallofAilingCorn.?
Onthesouthendofthegarden,intheshadowsofaloquattree,wastheservants?home,amodestlittlemudhutwhereHassanlivedwithhisfather.
Itwasthere,inthatlittleshack,thatHassanwasborninthewinterof1964,justoneyearaftermymotherdiedgivingbirthtome.
IntheeighteenyearsthatIlivedinthathouse,IsteppedintoHassanandAli'squartersonlyahandfuloftimes.Whenthesundroppedlowbehindthehillsandweweredoneplayingfortheday,HassanandIpartedways.IwentpasttherosebushestoBaba'smansion,Hassantothemudshackwherehehadbeenborn,wherehe'dlivedhisentirelife.Irememberitwasspare,clean,dimlylitbyapairofkerosenelamps.Thereweretwomattressesonoppositesidesoftheroom,awornHeratirugwithfrayededgesinbetween,athree-leggedstool,andawoodentableinthecornerwhereHassandidhisdrawings.Thewallsstoodbare,saveforasingletapestrywithsewn-inbeadsformingthewordsAllah-u-akbar.BabahadboughtitforAliononeofhistripstoMashad.
ItwasinthatsmallshackthatHassan'smother,Sanaubar,gavebirthtohimonecoldwinterdayin1964.Whilemymotherhemorrhagedtodeathduringchildbirth,Hassanlosthislessthanaweekafterhewasborn.LosthertoafatemostAfghansconsideredfarworsethandeath:Sheranoffwithaclanoftravelingsingersanddancers.
Hassannevertalkedabouthismother,asifshe'dneverexisted.Ialwayswonderedifhedreamedabouther,aboutwhatshelookedlike,whereshewas.Iwonderedifhelongedtomeether.Didheacheforher,thewayIachedforthemotherIhadnevermet?Oneday,wewerewalkingfrommyfather'shousetoCinemaZainabforanewIranianmovie,takingtheshortcutthroughthemilitarybarracksnearIstiqlalMiddleSchool--Babahadforbiddenustotakethatshortcut,buthewasinPakistanwithRahimKhanatthetime.Wehoppedthefencethatsurroundedthebarracks,skippedoveralittlecreek,andbrokeintotheopendirtfieldwhereold,abandonedtankscollecteddust.Agroupofsoldiershuddledintheshadeofoneofthosetanks,smokingcigarettesandplayingcards.Oneofthemsawus,elbowedtheguynexttohim,andcalledHassan.
"Hey,you!?hesaid."Iknowyou.?
Wehadneverseenhimbefore.Hewasasquatlymanwithashavedheadandblackstubbleonhisface.Thewayhegrinnedatus,leered,scaredme."Justkeepwalking,?ImutteredtoHassan.
"You!TheHazara!LookatmewhenI'mtalkingtoyou!?thesoldierbarked.Hehandedhiscigarettetotheguynexttohim,madeacirclewiththethumbandindexfingerofonehand.Pokedthemiddlefingerofhisotherhandthroughthecircle.Pokeditinandout.Inandout."Iknewyourmother,didyouknowthat?Iknewherrealgood.Itookherfrombehindbythatcreekoverthere.?
Thesoldierslaughed.Oneofthemmadeasquealingsound.ItoldHassantokeepwalking,keepwalking.
"Whatatightlittlesugarycuntshehad!?thesoldierwassaying,shakinghandswiththeothers,grinning.Later,inthedark,afterthemoviehadstarted,IheardHassannexttome,croaking.Tearswereslidingdownhischeeks.Ireachedacrossmyseat,slungmyarmaroundhim,pulledhimclose.Herestedhisheadonmyshoulder."Hetookyouforsomeoneelse,?Iwhispered."Hetookyouforsomeoneelse.?
I'mtoldnoonewasreallysurprisedwhenSanaubareloped.PeoplehadraisedtheireyebrowswhenAli,amanwhohadmemorizedtheKoran,marriedSanaubar,awomannineteenyearsyounger,abeautifulbutnotoriouslyunscrupulouswomanwholiveduptoherdishonorablereputation.LikeAli,shewasaShi'aMuslimandanethnicHazara.Shewasalsohisfirstcousinandthereforeanaturalchoiceforaspouse.Butbeyondthosesimilarities,AliandSanaubarhadlittleincommon,leastofalltheirrespectiveappearances.WhileSanaubar'sbrilliantgreeneyesandimpishfacehad,rumorhasit,temptedcountlessmenintosin,Alihadacongenitalparalysisofhislowerfacialmuscles,aconditionthatrenderedhimunabletosmileandlefthimperpetuallygrimfaced.Itwasanoddthingtoseethestone-facedAlihappy,orsad,becauseonlyhisslantedbrowneyesglintedwithasmileorwelledwithsorrow.Peoplesaythateyesarewindowstothesoul.NeverwasthatmoretruethanwithAli,whocouldonlyrevealhimselfthroughhiseyes.
IhaveheardthatSanaubar'ssuggestivestrideandoscillatinghipssentmentoreveriesofinfidelity.ButpoliohadleftAliwithatwisted,atrophiedrightlegthatwassallowskinoverbonewithlittleinbetweenexceptapaper-thinlayerofmuscle.Irememberoneday,whenIwaseight,Aliwastakingmetothebazaartobuysomenaan.Iwaswalkingbehindhim,humming,tryingtoimitatehiswalk.Iwatchedhimswinghisscraggyleginasweepingarc,watchedhiswholebodytiltimpossiblytotherighteverytimeheplantedthatfoot.Itseemedaminormiraclehedidn'ttipoverwitheachstep.WhenItriedit,Ialmostfellintothegutter.Thatgotmegiggling.Aliturnedaround,caughtmeapinghim.Hedidn'tsayanything.Notthen,notever.Hejustkeptwalking.
Ali'sfaceandhiswalkfrightenedsomeoftheyoungerchildrenintheneighborhood.Buttherealtroublewaswiththeolderkids.Theychasedhimonthestreet,andmockedhimwhenhehobbledby.SomehadtakentocallinghimBabalu,orBoogeyman.
"Hey,Babalu,whodidyoueattoday??theybarkedtoachorusoflaughter."Whodidyoueat,youflat-nosedBabalu??
Theycalledhim"flat-nosed?becauseofAliandHassan'scharacteristicHazaraMongoloidfeatures.Foryears,thatwasallIknewabouttheHazaras,thattheywereMoguldescendants,andthattheylookedalittlelikeChinesepeople.Schooltextbooksbarelymentionedthemandreferredtotheirancestryonlyinpassing.Thenoneday,IwasinBaba'sstudy,lookingthroughhisstuff,whenIfoundoneofmymother'soldhistorybooks.ItwaswrittenbyanIraniannamedKhorami.Iblewthedustoffit,sneakeditintobedwithmethatnight,andwasstunnedtofindanentirechapteronHazarahistory.AnentirechapterdedicatedtoHassan'speople!Init,Ireadthatmypeople,thePashtuns,hadpersecutedandoppressedtheHazaras.ItsaidtheHazarashadtriedtoriseagainstthePashtunsinthenineteenthcentury,butthePashtunshad"quelledthemwithunspeakableviolence.?ThebooksaidthatmypeoplehadkilledtheHazaras,driventhemfromtheirlands,burnedtheirhomes,andsoldtheirwomen.ThebooksaidpartofthereasonPashtunshadoppressedtheHazaraswasthatPashtunswereSunniMuslims,whileHazaraswereShi'a.ThebooksaidalotofthingsIdidn'tknow,thingsmyteachershadn'tmentioned.ThingsBabahadn'tmentionedeither.ItalsosaidsomethingsIdidknow,likethatpeoplecalledHazarasmice-eating,flat-nosed,load-carryingdonkeys.IhadheardsomeofthekidsintheneighborhoodyellthosenamestoHassan.
Thefollowingweek,afterclass,IshowedthebooktomyteacherandpointedtothechapterontheHazaras.Heskimmedthroughacoupleofpages,snickered,handedthebookback."That'stheonethingShi'apeopledowell,?hesaid,pickinguphispapers,"passingthemselvesasmartyrs.?HewrinkledhisnosewhenhesaidthewordShi'a,likeitwassomekindofdisease.
Butdespitesharingethnicheritageandfamilyblood,SanaubarjoinedtheneighborhoodkidsintauntingAli.Ihaveheardthatshemadenosecretofherdisdainforhisappearance.
"Thisisahusband??shewouldsneer."Ihaveseenolddonkeysbettersuitedtobeahusband.?
Intheend,mostpeoplesuspectedthemarriagehadbeenanarrangementofsortsbetweenAliandhisuncle,Sanaubar'sfather.TheysaidAlihadmarriedhiscousintohelprestoresomehonortohisuncle'sblemishedname,eventhoughAli,whohadbeenorphanedattheageoffive,hadnoworldlypossessionsorinheritancetospeakof.
Alineverretaliatedagainstanyofhistormentors,Isupposepartlybecausehecouldnevercatchthemwiththattwistedlegdraggingbehindhim.ButmostlybecauseAliwasimmunetotheinhehadfoundhisjoy,hisantidote,themomentSanaubarhadgivenbirthtoHassan.Ithadbeenasimpleenoughaffair.Noobstetricians,noanesthesiologists,nofancymonitoringdevices.JustSanaubarlyingonastained,nakedmattresswithAliandamidwifehelpingher.Shehadn'tneededmuchhelpatall,because,eveninbirth,Hassanwastruetohisnature:
Hewasincapableofhurtinganyone.Afewgrunts,acoupleofpushes,andoutcameHassan.Outhecamesmiling.
Asconfidedtoaneighbor'sservantbythegarrulousmidwife,whohadtheninturntoldanyonewhowouldlisten,SanaubarhadtakenoneglanceatthebabyinAli'sarms,seenthecleftlip,andbarkedabitterlaughter.
"There,?shehadsaid."Nowyouhaveyourownidiotchildtodoallyoursmilingforyou!?ShehadrefusedtoevenholdHassan,andjustfivedayslater,shewasgone.
BabahiredthesamenursingwomanwhohadfedmetonurseHassan.Alitoldusshewasablue-eyedHazarawomanfromBamiyan,thecityofthegiantBuddhastatues."Whatasweetsingingvoiceshehad,?heusedtosaytous.
Whatdidshesing,HassanandIalwaysasked,thoughwealreadyknew--Alihadtolduscountlesstimes.WejustwantedtohearAlising.
He'dclearhisthroatandbegin:
OnahighmountainIstood,
AndcriedthenameofAli,LionofGod.
OAli,LionofGod,KingofMen,
Bringjoytooursorrowfulhearts.
Thenhewouldremindusthattherewasabrotherhoodbetweenpeoplewhohadfedfromthesamebreast,akinshipthatnoteventimecouldbreak.
HassanandIfedfromthesamebreasts.Wetookourfirststepsonthesamelawninthesameyard.And,underthesameroof,wespokeourfirstwords.
MinewasBaba.
HiswasAmir.Myname.
Lookingbackonitnow,Ithinkthefoundationforwhathappenedinthewinterof1975--andallthatfollowed--wasalreadylaidinthosefirstwords.
LorehasitmyfatheroncewrestledablackbearinBaluchistanwithhisbarehands.Ifthestoryhadbeenaboutanyoneelse,itwouldhavebeendismissedaslaaf,thatAfghantendencytoexaggerate--sadly,almosifsomeonebraggedthathissonwasadoctor,chanceswerethekidhadoncepassedabiologytestinhighschool.ButnooneeverdoubtedtheveracityofanystoryaboutBaba.Andiftheydid,well,Babadidhavethosethreeparallelscarscoursingajaggedpathdownhisback.IhaveimaginedBaba'swrestlingmatchcountlesstimes,evendreamedaboutit.Andinthosedreams,IcannevertellBabafromthebear.
ItwasRahimKhanwhofirstreferredtohimaswhateventuallybecameBaba'sfamousnickname,Toophanagha,or"Mr.Hurricane.?Itwasanaptenoughnickname.Myfatherwasaforceofnature,atoweringPashtunspecimenwithathickbeard,awaywardcropofcurlybrownhairasunrulyasthemanhimself,handsthatlookedcapableofuprootingawillowtree,andablackglarethatwould"dropthedeviltohiskneesbeggingformercy,?asRahimKhanusedtosay.Atparties,whenallsix-foot-fiveofhimthunderedintotheroom,attentionshiftedtohimlikesunflowersturningtothesun.
Babawasimpossibletoignore,eveninhissleep.Iusedtoburycottonwispsinmyears,pulltheblanketovermyhead,andstillthesoundsofBaba'ssnoring--somuchlikeagrowlingtruckengine--penetratedthewalls.AndmyroomwasacrossthehallfromBaba'sbedroom.Howmymotherevermanagedtosleepinthesameroomashimisamysterytome.It'sonthelonglistofthingsIwouldhaveaskedmymotherifIhadevermether.
Inthelate1960s,whenIwasfiveorsix,Babadecidedtobuildanorphanage.IheardthestorythroughRahimKhan.HetoldmeBabahaddrawntheblueprintshimselfdespitethefactthathe'dhadnoarchitecturalexperienceatall.Skepticshadurgedhimtostophisfoolishnessandhireanarchitect.Ofcourse,Babarefused,andeveryoneshooktheirheadsindismayathisobstinateways.ThenBabasucceededandeveryoneshooktheirheadsinaweathistriumphantways.Babapaidfortheconstructionofthetwo-storyorphanage,justoffthemainstripofJadehMaywandsouthoftheKabulRiver,withhisownmoney.RahimKhantoldmeBabahadpersonallyfundedtheentireproject,payingfortheengineers,electricians,plumbers,andlaborers,nottomentionthecityofficialswhose"mustachesneededoiling.?
Ittookthreeyearstobuildtheorphanage.Iwaseightbythen.Irememberthedaybeforetheorphanageopened,BabatookmetoGharghaLake,afewmilesnorthofKabul.HeaskedmetofetchHassantoo,butIliedandtoldhimHassanhadtheruns.IwantedBabaalltomyself.Andbesides,onetimeatGharghaLake,HassanandIwereskimmingstonesandHassanmadehisstoneskipeighttimes.ThemostImanagedwasfive.Babawasthere,watching,andhepattedHassanontheback.Evenputhisarmaroundhisshoulder.
Wesatatapicnictableonthebanksofthelake,justBabaandme,eatingboiledeggswithkoftasandwiches--meatballsandpickleswrappedinnaan.Thewaterwasadeepblueandsunlightglitteredonitslookingglass-clearsurface.OnFridays,thelakewasbustlingwithfamiliesoutforadayinthesun.ButitwasmidweekandtherewasonlyBabaandme,usandacoupleoflonghaired,beardedtourists--"hippies,?I'dheardthemcalled.Theyweresittingonthedock,feetdanglinginthewater,fishingpolesinhand.IaskedBabawhytheygrewtheirhairlong,butBabagrunted,didn'tanswer.Hewaspreparinghisspeechforthenextday,flippingthroughahavocofhandwrittenpages,makingnoteshereandtherewithapencil.IbitintomyeggandaskedBabaifitwastruewhataboyinschoolhadtoldme,thatifyouateapieceofeggshell,you'dhavetopeeitout.Babagruntedagain.
Itookabiteofmysandwich.Oneoftheyellow-hairedtouristslaughedandslappedtheotheroneontheback.Inthedistance,acrossthelake,atrucklumberedaroundacorneronthehill.Sunlighttwinkledinitsside-viewmirror.
"IthinkIhavesaratan?Isaid.Cancer.Babaliftedhisheadfromthepagesflappinginthebreeze.ToldmeIcouldgetthesodamyself,allIhadtodowaslookinthetrunkofthecar.
Outsidetheorphanage,thenextday,theyranoutofchairs.Alotofpeoplehadtostandtowatchtheopeningceremony.Itwasawindyday,andIsatbehindBabaonthelittlepodiumjustoutsidethemainentranceofthenewbuilding.Babawaswearingagreensuitandacaraculhat.Midwaythroughthespeech,thewindknockedhishatoffandeveryonelaughed.HemotionedtometoholdhishatforhimandIwasgladto,becausetheneveryonewouldseethathewasmyfather,myBaba.Heturnedbacktothemicrophoneandsaidhehopedthebuildingwassturdierthanhishat,andeveryonelaughedagain.WhenBabaendedhisspeech,peoplestoodupandcheered.Theyclappedforalongtime.Afterward,peopleshookhishand.Someofthemtousledmyhairandshookmyhandtoo.IwassoproudofBaba,ofus.
ButdespiteBaba'ssuccesses,peoplewerealwaysdoubtinghim.TheytoldBabathatrunningabusinesswasn'tinhisbloodandheshouldstudylawlikehisfather.SoBabaprovedthemallwrongbynotonlyrunninghisownbusinessbutbecomingoneoftherichestmerchantsinKabul.BabaandRahimKhanbuiltawildlysuccessfulcarpet-exportingbusiness,twopharmacies,andarestaurant.
WhenpeoplescoffedthatBabawouldnevermarrywell--afterall,hewasnotofroyalblood--heweddedmymother,SofiaAkrami,ahighlyeducatedwomanuniversallyregardedasoneofKabul'smostrespected,beautiful,andvirtuousladies.AndnotonlydidsheteachclassicFarsiliteratureattheuniversityshewasadescendantoftheroyalfamily,afactthatmyfatherplayfullyrubbedintheskeptics?facesbyreferringtoheras"myprincess.?
Withmeastheglaringexception,myfathermoldedtheworldaroundhimtohisliking.Theproblem,ofcourse,wasthatBabasawtheworldinblackandwhite.Andhegottodecidewhatwasblackandwhatwaswhite.Youcan'tloveapersonwholivesthatwaywithoutfearinghimtoo.Maybeevenhatinghimalittle.
WhenIwasinfifthgrade,wehadamullahwhotaughtusaboutIslam.HisnamewasMullahFatiullahKhan,ashort,stubbymanwithafacefullofacnescarsandagruffvoice.Helecturedusaboutthevirtuesofzhetaughtustheintricaciesofperformingthefivedailynamazprayers,andmadeusmemorizeversesfromtheKoran--andthoughhenevertranslatedthewordsforus,hedidstress,sometimeswiththehelpofastrippedwillowbranch,thatwehadtopronouncetheArabicwordscorrectlysoGodwouldhearusbetter.HetoldusonedaythatIslamconsideredthosewhodrankwouldanswerfortheirsinonthedayofQiyamat,JudgmentDay.Inthosedays,drinkingwasfairlycommoninKabul.Noonegaveyouapubliclashingforit,butthoseAfghanswhodiddrinkdidsoinprivate,outofrespect.Peopleboughttheirscotchas"medicine?inbrownpaperbagsfromselected"pharmacies.?Theywouldleavewiththebagtuckedoutofsight,sometimesdrawingfurtive,disapprovingglancesfromthosewhoknewaboutthestore'sreputationforsuchtransactions.
WewereupstairsinBaba'sstudy,thesmokingroom,whenItoldhimwhatMullahFatiullahKhanhadtaughtusinclass.Babawaspouringhimselfawhiskeyfromthebarhehadbuiltinthecorneroftheroom.Helistened,nodded,tookasipfromhisdrink.Thenheloweredhimselfintotheleathersofa,putdownhisdrink,andproppedmeuponhislap.IfeltasifIweresittingonapairoftreetrunks.Hetookadeepbreathandexhaledthroughhisnose,theairhissingthroughhismustacheforwhatseemedaneternityIcouldn'tdecidewhetherIwantedtohughimorleapfromhislapinmortalfear.
"Iseeyou'veconfusedwhatyou'relearninginschoolwithactualeducation,?hesaidinhisthickvoice.
"Butifwhathesaidistruethendoesitmakeyouasinner,Baba??
"Hmm.?Babacrushedanicecubebetweenhisteeth."Doyouwanttoknowwhatyourfatherthinksaboutsin??
"ThenI'lltellyou,?Babasaid,"butfirstunderstandthisandunderstanditnow,Amir:You'llneverlearnanythingofvaluefromthosebeardedidiots.?
"YoumeanMullahFatiullahKhan??
Babagesturedwithhisglass.Theiceclinked."Imeanallofthem.Pissonthebeardsofallthoseself-righteousmonkeys.?
Ibegantogiggle.TheimageofBabapissingonthebeardofanymonkey,self-righteousorotherwise,wastoomuch.
"Theydonothingbutthumbtheirprayerbeadsandreciteabookwritteninatonguetheydon'tevenunderstand.?Hetookasip."GodhelpusallifAfghanistaneverfallsintotheirhands.?
"ButMullahFatiullahKhanseemsnice,?Imanagedbetweenburstsoftittering.
"SodidGenghisKhan,?Babasaid."Butenoughaboutthat.YouaskedaboutsinandIwanttotellyou.Areyoulistening??
"Yes,?Isaid,pressingmylipstogether.Butachortleescapedthroughmynoseandmadeasnortingsound.Thatgotmegigglingagain.
Baba'sstonyeyesboreintomineand,justlikethat,Iwasn'tlaughinganymore."Imeantospeaktoyoumantoman.Doyouthinkyoucanhandlethatforonce??
"Yes,Babajan,?Imuttered,marveling,notforthefirsttime,athowbadlyBabacouldstingmewithsofewwords.We'dhadafleetinggoodmoment--itwasn'toftenBabatalkedtome,letaloneonhislap--andI'dbeenafooltowasteit.
"Good,?Babasaid,buthiseyeswondered."Now,nomatterwhatthemullahteaches,thereisonlyonesin,onlyone.Andthatistheft.Everyothersinisavariationoftheft.Doyouunderstandthat??
"No,Babajan,?Isaid,desperatelywishingIdid.Ididn'twanttodisappointhimagain.
Babaheavedasighofimpatience.Thatstungtoo,becausehewasnotanimpatientman.Irememberedallthetimeshedidn'tcomehomeuntilafterdark,allthetimesIatedinneralone.I'daskAliwhereBabawas,whenhewascominghome,thoughIknewfullwellhewasattheconstructionsite,overlookingthis,supervisingthat.Didn'tthattakepatience?IalreadyhatedallthekidshewasbuisometimesIwishedthey'dalldiedalongwiththeirparents.
"Whenyoukillaman,youstealalife,?Babasaid."Youstealhiswife'srighttoahusband,robhischildrenofafather.Whenyoutellalie,youstealsomeone'srighttothetruth.Whenyoucheat,youstealtherighttofairness.Doyousee??
Idid.WhenBabawassix,athiefwalkedintomygrandfather'shouseinthemiddleofthenight.Mygrandfather,arespectedjudge,confrontedhim,butthethiefstabbedhiminthethroat,killinghiminstantly--androbbingBabaofafather.ThetownspeoplecaughtthekillerjustheturnedouttobeawandererfromtheKunduzregion.Theyhangedhimfromthebranchofanoaktreewithstilltwohourstogobeforeafternoonprayer.ItwasRahimKhan,notBaba,whohadtoldmethatstory.IwasalwayslearningthingsaboutBabafromotherpeople.
"Thereisnoactmorewretchedthanstealing,Amir,?Babasaid."Amanwhotakeswhat'snothistotake,beitalifeoraloafofnaan...Ispitonsuchaman.AndifIevercrosspathswithhim,Godhelphim.Doyouunderstand??
IfoundtheideaofBabaclobberingathiefbothexhilaratingandterriblyfrightening."Yes,Baba.?
"Ifthere'saGodoutthere,thenIwouldhopehehasmoreimportantthingstoattendtothanmydrinkingscotchoreatingpork.Now,hopdown.Allthistalkaboutsinhasmademethirstyagain.?
Iwatchedhimfillhisglassatthebarandwonderedhowmuchtimewouldpassbeforewetalkedagainthewaywejusthad.Becausethetruthofitwas,IalwaysfeltlikeBabahatedmealittle.Andwhynot?Afterall,Ihadkilledhisbelovedwife,hisbeautifulprincess,hadn'tI?TheleastIcouldhavedonewastohavehadthedecencytohaveturnedoutalittlemorelikehim.ButIhadn'tturnedoutlikehim.Notatall.
INSCHOOL,weusedtoplayagamecalledSherjangi,or"BattleofthePoems.?TheFarsiteachermoderateditanditwentsomethinglikethis:Yourecitedaversefromapoemandyouropponenthadsixtysecondstoreplywithaversethatbeganwiththesameletterthatendedyours.Everyoneinmyclasswantedmeontheirteam,becausebythetimeIwaseleven,IcouldrecitedozensofversesfromKhayyam,H00fez,orRumi'sfamousMasnawi.Onetime,Itookonthewholeclassandwon.ItoldBabaaboutitlaterthatnight,buthejustnodded,muttered,"Good.?
ThatwashowIescapedmyfather'saloofness,inmydeadmother'sbooks.ThatandHassan,ofcourse.Ireadeverything,Rumi,H00fez,Saadi,VictorHugo,JulesVerne,MarkTwain,IanFleming.WhenIhadfinishedmymother'sbooks--nottheboringhistoryones,Iwasnevermuchintothose,butthenovels,theepics--Istartedspendingmyallowanceonbooks.IboughtoneaweekfromthebookstorenearCinemaPark,andstoredthemincardboardboxeswhenIranoutofshelfroom.
Ofcourse,marryingapoetwasonething,butfatheringasonwhopreferredburyinghisfaceinpoetrybookstohunting...well,thatwasn'thowBabahadenvisionedit,Isuppose.Realmendidn'treadpoetry--andGodforbidtheyshouldeverwriteit!Realmen--realboys--playedsoccerjustasBabahadwhenhehadbeenyoung.Nowthatwassomethingtobepassionateabout.In1970,BabatookabreakfromtheconstructionoftheorphanageandflewtoTehranforamonthtowatchtheWorldCupgamesontelevision,sinceatthetimeAfghanistandidn'thaveTVsyet.Hesignedmeupforsoccerteamstostirthesamepassioninme.ButIwaspathetic,ablunderingliabilitytomyownteam,alwaysinthewayofanopportunepassorunwittinglyblockinganopenlane.Ishambledaboutthefieldonscraggylegs,squalledforpassesthatnevercamemyway.AndtheharderItried,wavingmyarmsovermyheadfranticallyandscreeching,"I'mopen!I'mopen!?themoreIwentignored.ButBabawouldn'tgiveup.WhenitbecameabundantlyclearthatIhadn'tinheritedashredofhisathletictalents,hesettledfortryingtoturnmeintoapassionatespectator.CertainlyIcouldmanagethat,couldn'tI?Ifakedinterestforaslongaspossible.IcheeredwithhimwhenKabul'steamscoredagainstKandaharandyelpedinsultsattherefereewhenhecalledapenaltyagainstourteam.ButBabasensedmylackofgenuineinterestandresignedhimselftothebleakfactthathissonwasnevergoingtoeitherplayorwatchsoccer.
IrememberonetimeBabatookmetotheyearlyBuzkashitournamentthattookplaceonthefirstdayofspring,NewYear'sDay.Buzkashiwas,andstillis,Afghanistan'snationalpassion.Achapandaz,ahighlyskilledhorsemanusuallypatronizedbyrichaficionados,hastosnatchagoatorcattlecarcassfromthemidstofamelee,carrythatcarcasswithhimaroundthestadiumatfullgallop,anddropitinascoringcirclewhileateamofotherchapandazchaseshimanddoeseverythinginitspower--kick,claw,whip,punch--tosnatchthecarcassfromhim.Thatday,thecrowdroaredwithexcitementasthehorsemenonthefieldbellowedtheirbattlecriesandjostledforthecarcassinacloudofdust.Theearthtrembledwiththeclatterofhooves.Wewatchedfromtheupperbleachersasriderspoundedpastusatfullgallop,yippingandyelling,foamflyingfromtheirhorses?mouths.
AtonepointBabapointedtosomeone."Amir,doyouseethatmansittinguptherewiththoseothermenaroundhim??
"That'sHenryKissinger.?
"Oh,?Isaid.Ididn'tknowwhoHenryKissingerwas,andImighthaveasked.Butatthemoment,Iwatchedwithhorrorasoneofthechapandazfelloffhissaddleandwastrampledunderascoreofhooves.Hisbodywastossedandhurledinthestampedelikearagdoll,finallyrollingtoastopwhenthemeleemovedon.Hetwitchedonceandlaymotionless,hislegsbentatunnaturalangles,apoolofhisbloodsoakingthroughthesand.
Ibegantocry.
Icriedallthewaybackhome.IrememberhowBaba'shandsclenchedaroundthesteeringwheel.Clenchedandunclenched.Mostly,IwillneverforgetBaba'svalianteffortstoconcealthedisgustedlookonhisfaceashedroveinsilence.
Laterthatnight,Iwaspassingbymyfather'sstudywhenIoverheardhimspeakingtoRahimKhan.Ipressedmyeartothecloseddoor.
?-gratefulthathe'shealthy,?RahimKhanwassaying.
"Iknow,Iknow.Buthe'salwaysburiedinthosebooksorshufflingaroundthehouselikehe'slostinsomedream.?
"Iwasn'tlikethat.?Babasoundedfrustrated,almostangry.
RahimKhanlaughed."Childrenaren'tcoloringbooks.Youdon'tgettofillthemwithyourfavoritecolors.?
"I'mtellingyou,?Babasaid,"Iwasn'tlikethatatall,andneitherwereanyofthekidsIgrewupwith.?
"Youknow,sometimesyouarethemostself-centeredmanIknow,?RahimKhansaid.HewastheonlypersonIknewwhocouldgetawaywithsayingsomethinglikethattoBaba.
"Ithasnothingtodowiththat.?
"Thenwhat??
IheardtheleatherofBaba'sseatcreakingasheshiftedonit.Iclosedmyeyes,pressedmyearevenharderagainstthedoor,wantingtohear,notwantingtohear."SometimesIlookoutthiswindowandIseehimplayingonthestreetwiththeneighborhoodboys.Iseehowtheypushhimaround,takehistoysfromhim,givehimashovehere,awhackthere.And,youknow,heneverfightsback.Never.Hejust...dropshisheadand...?
"Sohe'snotviolent,?RahimKhansaid.
"That'snotwhatImean,Rahim,andyouknowit,?Babashotback."Thereissomethingmissinginthatboy.?
"Yes,ameanstreak.?
"Self-defensehasnothingtodowithmeanness.Youknowwhatalwayshappenswhentheneighborhoodboysteasehim?Hassanstepsinandfendsthemoff.I'veseenitwithmyowneyes.Andwhentheycomehome,Isaytohim,‘HowdidHassangetthatscrapeonhisface??Andhesays,‘Hefelldown.?I'mtellingyou,Rahim,thereissomethingmissinginthatboy.?
"Youjustneedtolethimfindhisway,?RahimKhansaid.
"Andwhereisheheaded??Babasaid."Aboywhowon'tstandupforhimselfbecomesamanwhocan'tstanduptoanything.?
"Asusualyou'reoversimplifying.?
"Idon'tthinkso.?
"You'reangrybecauseyou'reafraidhe'llnevertakeoverthebusinessforyou.?
"Nowwho'soversimplifying??Babasaid."Look,Iknowthere'safondnessbetweenyouandhimandI'mhappyaboutthat.Envious,buthappy.Imeanthat.Heneedssomeonewho...understandshim,becauseGodknowsIdon't.ButsomethingaboutAmirtroublesmeinawaythatIcan'texpress.It'slike...?Icouldseehimsearching,reachingfortherightwords.Heloweredhisvoice,butIheardhimanyway."IfIhadn'tseenthedoctorpullhimoutofmywifewithmyowneyes,I'dneverbelievehe'smyson.?
THENEXTMORNING,ashewaspreparingmybreakfast,Hassanaskedifsomethingwasbotheringme.Isnappedathim,toldhimtomindhisownbusiness.
RahimKhanhadbeenwrongaboutthemeanstreakthing.
In1933,theyearBabawasbornandtheyearZahirShahbeganhisforty-yearreignofAfghanistan,twobrothers,youngmenfromawealthyandreputablefamilyinKabul,gotbehindthewheeloftheirfather'sFordroadster.HighonhashishandmastonFrenchwine,theystruckandkilledaHazarahusbandandwifeontheroadtoPaghman.Thepolicebroughtthesomewhatcontriteyoungmenandthedeadcouple'sfive-year-oldorphanboybeforemygrandfather,whowasahighlyregardedjudgeandamanofimpeccablereputation.Afterhearingthebrothers?accountandtheirfather'spleaformercy,mygrandfatherorderedthetwoyoungmentogotoKandaharatonceandenlistinthearmyforoneyear--thisdespitethefactthattheirfamilyhadsomehowmanagedtoobtainthemexemptionsfromthedraft.Theirfatherargued,butnottoovehemently,andintheend,everyoneagreedthatthepunishmenthadbeenperhapsharshbutfair.Asfortheorphan,mygrandfatheradoptedhimintohisownhousehold,andtoldtheotherservantstotutorhim,buttobekindtohim.ThatboywasAli.
AliandBabagrewuptogetheraschildhoodplaymates--atleastuntilpoliocrippledAli'sleg--justlikeHassanandIgrewupagenerationlater.BabawasalwaystellingusaboutthemischiefheandAliusedtocause,andAliwouldshakehisheadandsay,"But,Aghasahib,tellthemwhowasthearchitectofthemischiefandwhothepoorlaborer??BabawouldlaughandthrowhisarmaroundAli.
ButinnoneofhisstoriesdidBabaeverrefertoAliashisfriend.
Thecuriousthingwas,IneverthoughtofHassanandmeasfriendseither.Notintheusualsense,anyhow.Nevermindthatwetaughteachothertorideabicyclewithnohands,ortobuildafullyfunctionalhomemadecameraoutofacardboardbox.Nevermindthatwespententirewintersflyingkites,runningkites.Nevermindthattome,thefaceofAfghanistanisthatofaboywithathin-bonedframe,ashavedhead,andlow-setears,aboywithaChinesedollfaceperpetuallylitbyaharelippedsmile.
Nevermindanyofthosethings.Becausehistoryisn'teasytoovercome.Neitherisreligion.Intheend,IwasaPashtunandhewasaHazara,IwasSunniandhewasShi'a,andnothingwasevergoingtochangethat.Nothing.
Butwewerekidswhohadlearnedtocrawltogether,andnohistory,ethnicity,society,orreligionwasgoingtochangethateither.IspentmostofthefirsttwelveyearsofmylifeplayingwithHassan.Sometimes,myentirechildhoodseemslikeonelonglazysummerdaywithHassan,chasingeachotherbetweentanglesoftreesinmyfather'syard,playinghide-and-seek,copsandrobbers,cowboysandIndians,insecttorture--withourcrowningachievementundeniablythetimewepluckedthestingeroffabeeandtiedastringaroundthepoorthingtoyankitbackeverytimeittookflight.
WechasedtheKochi,thenomadswhopassedthroughKabulontheirwaytothemountainsofthenorth.Wewouldheartheircaravansapproachingourneighborhood,themewlingoftheirsheep,thebaaingoftheirgoats,thejingleofbellsaroundtheircamels?necks.We'drunoutsidetowatchthecaravanplodthroughourstreet,menwithdusty,weather-beatenfacesandwomendressedinlong,colorfulshawls,beads,andsilverbraceletsaroundtheirwristsandankles.Wehurledpebblesattheirgoats.Wesquirtedwaterontheirmules.I'dmakeHassansitontheWallofAilingCornandfirepebbleswithhisslingshotatthecamels?rears.
WesawourfirstWesterntogether,RioBravowithJohnWayne,attheCinemaPark,acrossthestreetfrommyfavoritebookstore.IrememberbeggingBabatotakeustoIransowecouldmeetJohnWayne.Bababurstoutingalesofhisdeepthroatedlaughter--asoundnotunlikeatruckenginerevvingup--and,whenhecouldtalkagain,explainedtoustheconceptofvoicedubbing.HassanandIwerestunned.Dazed.JohnWaynedidn'treallyspeakFarsiandhewasn'tIranian!HewasAmerican,justlikethefriendly,longhairedmenandwomenwealwayssawhangingaroundinKabul,dressedintheirtattered,brightlycoloredshirts.WesawRioBravothreetimes,butwesawourfavoriteWestern,TheMagnificentSeven,thirteentimes.Witheachviewing,wecriedattheendwhentheMexicankidsburiedCharlesBronson--who,asitturnedout,wasn'tIranianeither.
Wetookstrollsinthemusty-smellingbazaarsoftheShar-e-NausectionofKabul,orthenewcity,westoftheWazirAkbarKhandistrict.Wetalkedaboutwhateverfilmwehadjustseenandwalkedamidthebustlingcrowdsofbazarris.Wesnakedourwayamongthemerchantsandthebeggars,wanderedthroughnarrowalleyscrampedwithrowsoftiny,tightlypackedstalls.BabagaveuseachaweeklyallowanceoftenAfghanisandwespentitonwarmCoca-Colaandrosewatericecreamtoppedwithcrushedpistachios.
Duringtheschoolyear,wehadadailyroutine.BythetimeIdraggedmyselfoutofbedandlumberedtothebathroom,Hassanhadalreadywashedup,prayedthemorningnamazwithAli,andpreparedmybreakfast:hotblackteawiththreesugarcubesandasliceoftoastednaantoppedwithmyfavoritesourcherrymarmalade,allneatlyplacedonthediningtable.WhileIateandcomplainedabouthomework,Hassanmademybed,polishedmyshoes,ironedmyoutfitfortheday,packedmybooksandpencils.I'dhearhimsingingtohimselfinthefoyerasheironed,singingoldHazarasongsinhisnasalvoice.Then,BabaandIdroveoffinhisblackFordMustang--acarthatdrewenviouslookseverywherebecauseitwasthesamecarSteveMcQueenhaddriveninBullitt,afilmthatplayedinonetheaterforsixmonths.HassanstayedhomeandhelpedAliwiththeday'schores:hand-washingdirtyclothesandhangingthemtodryintheyard,sweepingthefloors,buyingfreshnaanfromthebazaar,marinatingmeatfordinner,wateringthelawn.
Afterschool,HassanandImetup,grabbedabook,andtrottedupabowl-shapedhilljustnorthofmyfather'spropertyinWazirAkbarKhan.Therewasanoldabandonedcemeteryatopthehillwithrowsofunmarkedheadstonesandtanglesofbrushwoodcloggingtheaisles.Seasonsofrainandsnowhadturnedtheirongaterustyandleftthecemetery'slowwhitestonewallsindecay.Therewasapomegranatetreeneartheentrancetothecemetery.Onesummerday,IusedoneofAli'skitchenknivestocarveournamesonit:"AmirandHassan,thesultansofKabul.?Thosewordsmadeitformal:thetreewasours.Afterschool,HassanandIclimbeditsbranchesandsnatcheditsbloodredpomegranates.Afterwe'deatenthefruitandwipedourhandsonthegrass,IwouldreadtoHassan.
Sittingcross-legged,sunlightandshadowsofpomegranateleavesdancingonhisface,HassanabsentlypluckedbladesofgrassfromthegroundasIreadhimstorieshecouldn'treadforhimself.ThatHassanwouldgrowupilliteratelikeAliandmostHazarashadbeendecidedtheminutehehadbeenborn,perhapseventhemomenthehadbeenconceivedinSanaubar'sunwelcomingwomb--afterall,whatusedidaservanthaveforthewrittenword?Butdespitehisilliteracy,ormaybebecauseofit,Hassanwasdrawntothemysteryofwords,seducedbyasecretworldforbiddentohim.Ireadhimpoemsandstories,sometimesriddles--thoughIstoppedreadingthosewhenIsawhewasfarbetteratsolvingthemthanIwas.SoIreadhimunchallengingthings,likethemisadventuresofthebumblingMullahNasruddinandhisdonkey.Wesatforhoursunderthattree,satthereuntilthesunfadedinthewest,andstillHassaninsistedwehadenoughdaylightforonemorestory,onemorechapter.
MyfavoritepartofreadingtoHassanwaswhenwecameacrossabigwordthathedidn'tknow.I'dteasehim,exposehisignorance.Onetime,IwasreadinghimaMullahNasruddinstoryandhestoppedme."Whatdoesthatwordmean??
"Whichone??
"Imbecile.?
"Youdon'tknowwhatitmeans??Isaid,grinning.
"Nay,Amiragha.?
"Butit'ssuchacommonword!?
"Still,Idon'tknowit.?Ifhefeltthestingofmytease,hissmilingfacedidn'tshowit.
"Well,everyoneinmyschoolknowswhatitmeans,?Isaid."Let'ssee.‘Imbecile.?Itmeanssmart,intelligent.I'lluseitinasentenceforyou.‘Whenitcomestowords,Hassanisanimbecile.'"
"Aaah,?hesaid,nodding.
Iwouldalwaysfeelguiltyaboutitlater.SoI'dtrytomakeupforitbygivinghimoneofmyoldshirtsorabrokentoy.Iwouldtellmyselfthatwasamendsenoughforaharmlessprank.
Hassan'sfavoritebookbyfarwastheShahnamah,thetenth-centuryepicofancientPersianheroes.Helikedallofthechapters,theshahsofold,Feridoun,Zal,andRudabeh.Buthisfavoritestory,andmine,was"RostamandSohrab,?thetaleofthegreatwarriorRostamandhisfleet-footedhorse,Rakhsh.Rostammortallywoundshisvaliantnemesis,Sohrab,inbattle,onlytodiscoverthatSohrabishislong-lostson.Strickenwithgrief,Rostamhearshisson'sdyingwords:
Ifthouartindeedmyfather,thenhastthoustainedthyswordinthelife-bloodofthyson.Andthoudidstitofthineobstinacy.ForIsoughttoturntheeuntolove,andIimploredoftheethyname,forIthoughttobeholdintheethetokensrecountedofmymother.ButIappealeduntothyheartinvain,andnowisthetimegoneformeeting...
"Readitagainplease,Amiragha,?Hassanwouldsay.SometimestearspooledinHassan'seyesasIreadhimthispassage,andIalwayswonderedwhomheweptfor,thegrief-strickenRostamwhotearshisclothesandcovershisheadwithashes,orthedyingSohrabwhoonlylongedforhisfather'slove?Personally,Icouldn'tseethetragedyinRostam'sfate.Afterall,didn'tallfathersintheirsecretheartsharboradesiretokilltheirsons?
Oneday,inJuly1973,IplayedanotherlittletrickonHassan.Iwasreadingtohim,andsuddenlyIstrayedfromthewrittenstory.IpretendedIwasreadingfromthebook,flippingpagesregularly,butIhadabandonedthetextaltogether,takenoverthestory,andmadeupmyown.Hassan,ofcourse,wasoblivioustothis.Tohim,thewordsonthepagewereascrambleofcodes,indecipherable,mysterious.WordsweresecretdoorwaysandIheldallthekeys.After,Istartedtoaskhimifhe'dlikedthestory,agigglerisinginmythroat,whenHassanbegantoclap.
"Whatareyoudoing??Isaid.
"Thatwasthebeststoryyou'vereadmeinalongtime,?hesaid,stillclapping.
Ilaughed."Really??
"That'sfascinating,?Imuttered.Imeantittoo.Thiswas...whollyunexpected."Areyousure,Hassan??
Hewasstillclapping."Itwasgreat,Amiragha.Willyoureadmemoreofittomorrow??
"Fascinating,?Irepeated,alittlebreathless,feelinglikeamanwhodiscoversaburiedtreasureinhisownbackyard.Walkingdownthehill,thoughtswereexplodinginmyheadlikethefireworksatChaman.Beststoryyou'vereadmeinalongtime,he'dsaid.Ihadreadhimalotofstories.Hassanwasaskingmesomething.
"What??Isaid.
"Whatdoesthatmean,‘fascinating??
Ilaughed.Clutchedhiminahugandplantedakissonhischeek.
"Whatwasthatfor??hesaid,startled,blushing.
Igavehimafriendlyshove.Smiled."You'reaprince,Hassan.You'reaprinceandIloveyou.?
Thatsamenight,Iwrotemyfirstshortstory.Ittookmethirtyminutes.Itwasadarklittletaleaboutamanwhofoundamagiccupandlearnedthatifheweptintothecup,histearsturnedintopearls.Buteventhoughhehadalwaysbeenpoor,hewasahappymanandrarelyshedatear.Sohefoundwaystomakehimselfsadsothathistearscouldmakehimrich.Asthepearlspiledup,sodidhisgreedgrow.Thestoryendedwiththemansittingonamountainofpearls,knifeinhand,weepinghelplesslyintothecupwithhisbelovedwife'sslainbodyinhisarms.
Thatevening,IclimbedthestairsandwalkedintoBaba'ssmokingroom,inmyhandsthetwosheetsofpaperonwhichIhadscribbledthestory.BabaandRahimKhanweresmokingpipesandsippingbrandywhenIcamein.
"Whatisit,Amir??Babasaid,recliningonthesofaandlacinghishandsbehindhishead.Bluesmokeswirledaroundhisface.Hisglaremademythroatfeeldry.IcleareditandtoldhimI'dwrittenastory.
Babanoddedandgaveathinsmilethatconveyedlittlemorethanfeignedinterest."Well,that'sverygood,isn'tit??hesaid.Thennothingmore.Hejustlookedatmethroughthecloudofsmoke.
Iprobablystoodthereforunderaminute,but,tothisday,itwasoneofthelongestminutesofmylife.Secondsploddedby,eachseparatedfromthenextbyaneternity.Airgrewheavydamp,almostsolid.Iwasbreathingbricks.Babawentonstaringmedown,anddidn'toffertoread.
Asalways,itwasRahimKhanwhorescuedme.Heheldouthishandandfavoredmewithasmilethathadnothingfeignedaboutit."MayIhaveit,Amirjan?Iwouldverymuchliketoreadit.?Babahardlyeverusedthetermofendearmentjanwhenheaddressedme.
Babashruggedandstoodup.Helookedrelieved,asifhetoohadbeenrescuedbyRahimKhan."Yes,giveittoKakaRahim.I'mgoingupstairstogetready.?Andwiththat,helefttheroom.MostdaysIworshipedBabawithanintensityapproachingthereligious.Butrightthen,IwishedIcouldopenmyveinsanddrainhiscursedbloodfrommybody.
Anhourlater,astheeveningskydimmed,thetwoofthemdroveoffinmyfather'scartoattendaparty.Onhiswayout,RahimKhanhunkeredbeforemeandhandedmemystoryandanotherfoldedpieceofpaper.Heflashedasmileandwinked."Foryou.Readitlater.?Thenhepausedandaddedasinglewordthatdidmoretoencouragemetopursuewritingthananycomplimentanyeditorhaseverpaidme.ThatwordwasBravo.
Whentheyleft,IsatonmybedandwishedRahimKhanhadbeenmyfather.ThenIthoughtofBabaandhisgreatbigchestandhowgooditfeltwhenheheldmeagainstit,howhesmelledofBrutinthemorning,andhowhisbeardtickledmyface.IwasovercomewithsuchsuddenguiltthatIboltedtothebathroomandvomitedinthesink.
Laterthatnight,curledupinbed,IreadRahimKhan'snoteoverandover.Itreadlikethis:
Ienjoyedyourstoryverymuch.Mashallah,Godhasgrantedyouaspecialtalent.Itisnowyourdutytohonethattalent,becauseapersonwhowasteshisGod-giventalentsisadonkey.Youhavewrittenyourstorywithsoundgrammarandinterestingstyle.Butthemostimpressivethingaboutyourstoryisthatithasirony.Youmaynotevenknowwhatthatwordmeans.Butyouwillsomeday.Itissomethingthatsomewritersreachfortheirentirecareersandneverattain.Youhaveachieveditwithyourfirststory.
Mydoorisandalwayswillbeopentoyou,Amirjan.Ishallhearanystoryyouhavetotell.Bravo.
Yourfriend,Rahim
BuoyedbyRahimKhan'snote,IgrabbedthestoryandhurrieddownstairstothefoyerwhereAliandHassanweresleepingonamattress.Thatwastheonlytimetheysleptinthehouse,whenBabawasawayandAlihadtowatchoverme.IshookHassanawakeandaskedhimifhewantedtohearastory.
Herubbedhissleep-cloggedeyesandstretched."Now?Whattimeisit??
"Nevermindthetime.Thisstory'sspecial.Iwroteitmyself,?Iwhispered,hopingnottowakeAli.Hassan'sfacebrightened.
"ThenIhavetohearit,?hesaid,alreadypullingtheblanketoffhim.
Ireadittohiminthelivingroombythemarblefireplace.Noplayfulstrayingthiswasaboutme!Hassanwastheperfectaudienceinmanyways,totallyimmersedinthetale,hisfaceshiftingwiththechangingtonesinthestory.WhenIreadthelastsentence,hemadeamutedclappingsoundwithhishands.
"Mashallah,Amiragha.Bravo!?Hewasbeaming.
"Youlikedit??Isaid,gettingmysecondtaste--andhowsweetitwas--ofapositivereview.
"Someday,Inshallah,youwillbeagreatwriter,?Hassansaid."Andpeopleallovertheworldwillreadyourstories.?
"Youexaggerate,Hassan,?Isaid,lovinghimforit.
"No.Youwillbegreatandfamous,?heinsisted.Thenhepaused,asifonthevergeofaddingsomething.Heweighedhiswordsandclearedhisthroat."Butwillyoupermitmetoaskaquestionaboutthestory??hesaidshyly.
"Ofcourse.?
"Well...?hestarted,brokeoff.
"Tellme,Hassan,?Isaid.Ismiled,thoughsuddenlytheinsecurewriterinmewasn'tsosurehewantedtohearit.
"Well,?hesaid,"ifImayask,whydidthemankillhiswife?Infact,whydidheeverhavetofeelsadtoshedtears?Couldn'thehavejustsmelledanonion??
Iwasstunned.Thatparticularpoint,soobviousitwasutterlystupid,hadn'tevenoccurredtome.Imovedmylipssoundlessly.ItappearedthatonthesamenightIhadlearnedaboutoneofwriting'sobjectives,irony,Iwouldalsobeintroducedtooneofitspitfalls:thePlotHole.TaughtbyHassan,ofallpeople.Hassanwhocouldn'treadandhadneverwrittenasinglewordinhisentirelife.Avoice,coldanddark,suddenlywhisperedinmyear,Whatdoesheknow,thatilliterateHazara?He'llneverbeanythingbutacook.Howdarehecriticizeyou?
"Well,?Ibegan.ButInevergottofinishthatsentence.
BecausesuddenlyAfghanistanchangedforever.
Somethingroaredlikethunder.Theearthshookalittleandweheardtherat-a-tat-tatofgunfire."Father!?Hassancried.Wesprungtoourfeetandracedoutofthelivingroom.WefoundAlihobblingfranticallyacrossthefoyer.
"Father!What'sthatsound??Hassanyelped,hishandsoutstretchedtowardAli.Aliwrappedhisarmsaroundus.Awhitelightflashed,littheskyinsilver.Itflashedagainandwasfollowedbyarapidstaccatoofgunfire.
"They'rehuntingducks,?Alisaidinahoarsevoice."Theyhuntducksatnight,youknow.Don'tbeafraid.?
Asirenwentoffinthedistance.Somewhereglassshatteredandsomeoneshouted.Iheardpeopleonthestreet,joltedfromsleepandprobablystillintheirpajamas,withruffledhairandpuffyeyes.Hassanwascrying.Alipulledhimclose,clutchedhimwithtenderness.Later,IwouldtellmyselfIhadn'tfeltenviousofHassan.Notatall.
Westayedhuddledthatwayuntiltheearlyhoursofthemorning.Theshootingsandexplosionshadlastedlessthananhour,buttheyhadfrightenedusbadly,becausenoneofushadeverheardgunshotsinthestreets.Theywereforeignsoundstousthen.ThegenerationofAfghanchildrenwhoseearswouldknownothingbutthesoundsofbombsandgunfirewasnotyetborn.Huddledtogetherinthediningroomandwaitingforthesuntorise,noneofushadanynotionthatawayoflifehadended.Ourwayoflife.Ifnotquiteyet,thenatleastitwasthebeginningoftheend.Theend,theofficialend,wouldcomefirstinApril1978withthecommunistcoupd'état,andtheninDecember1979,whenRussiantankswouldrollintotheverysamestreetswhereHassanandIplayed,bringingthedeathoftheAfghanistanIknewandmarkingthestartofastillongoingeraofbloodletting.
Justbeforesunrise,Baba'scarpeeledintothedriveway.Hisdoorslammedshutandhisrunningfootstepspoundedthestairs.ThenheappearedinthedoorwayandIsawsomethingonhisface.SomethingIdidn'trecognizerightawaybecauseI'dneverseenitbefore:fear."Amir!Hassan!?heexclaimedasherantous,openinghisarmswide."Theyblockedalltheroadsandthetelephonedidn'twork.Iwassoworried!?
Welethimwrapusinhisarmsand,forabriefinsanemoment,Iwasgladaboutwhateverhadhappenedthatnight.
THEYWEREN'TSHOOTINGducksafterall.Asitturnedout,theyhadn'tshotmuchofanythingthatnightofJuly17,1973.Kabulawokethenextmorningtofindthatthemonarchywasathingofthepast.Theking,ZahirShah,wasawayinItaly.Inhisabsence,hiscousinDaoudKhanhadendedtheking'sforty-yearreignwithabloodlesscoup.
IrememberHassanandIcrouchingthatnextmorningoutsidemyfather'sstudy,asBabaandRahimKhansippedblackteaandlistenedtobreakingnewsofthecouponRadioKabul.
"Amiragha??Hassanwhispered.
"What'sa‘republic??
Ishrugged."Idon'tknow.?OnBaba'sradio,theyweresayingthatword,"republic,?overandoveragain.
"Amiragha??
"Does‘republic?meanFatherandIwillhavetomoveaway??
"Idon'tthinkso,?Iwhisperedback.
Hassanconsideredthis."Amiragha??
"Idon'twantthemtosendmeandFatheraway.?
Ismiled."Bas,youdonkey.Noone'ssendingyouaway.?
"Doyouwanttogoclimbourtree??
Mysmilebroadened.ThatwasanotherthingaboutHassan.Healwaysknewwhentosaytherightthing--thenewsontheradiowasgettingprettyboring.HassanwenttohisshacktogetreadyandIranupstairstogrababook.ThenIwenttothekitchen,stuffedmypocketswithhandfulsofpinenuts,andranoutsidetofindHassanwaitingforme.Weburstthroughthefrontgatesandheadedforthehill.
Wecrossedtheresidentialstreetandweretrekkingthroughabarrenpatchofroughlandthatledtothehillwhen,suddenly,arockstruckHassanintheback.Wewhirledaroundandmyheartdropped.Assefandtwoofhisfriends,WaliandKamal,wereapproachingus.
Assefwasthesonofoneofmyfather'sfriends,Mahmood,anairlinepilot.Hisfamilylivedafewstreetssouthofourhome,inaposh,high-walledcompoundwithpalmtrees.IfyouwereakidlivingintheWazirAkbarKhansectionofKabul,youknewaboutAssefandhisfamousstainless-steelbrassknuckles,hopefullynotthroughpersonalexperience.BorntoaGermanmotherandAfghanfather,theblond,blue-eyedAsseftoweredovertheotherkids.Hiswell-earnedreputationforsavageryprecededhimonthestreets.Flankedbyhisobeyingfriends,hewalkedtheneighborhoodlikeaKhanstrollingthroughhislandwithhiseager-to-pleaseentourage.Hiswordwaslaw,andifyouneededalittlelegaleducation,thenthosebrassknuckleswerejusttherightteachingtool.IsawhimusethoseknucklesonceonakidfromtheKarteh-Chardistrict.IwillneverforgethowAssef'sblueeyesglintedwithalightnotentirelysaneandhowhegrinned,howhegrinned,ashepummeledthatpoorkidunconscious.SomeoftheboysinWazirAkbarKhanhadnicknamedhimAssefGoshkhor,orAssef"theEarEater.?Ofcourse,noneofthemdaredutterittohisfaceunlesstheywishedtosufferthesamefateasthepoorkidwhohadunwittinglyinspiredthatnicknamewhenhehadfoughtAssefoverakiteandendedupfishinghisrightearfromamuddygutter.Yearslater,IlearnedanEnglishwordforthecreaturethatAssefwas,awordforwhichagoodFarsiequivalentdoesnotexist:
"sociopath.?
OfalltheneighborhoodboyswhotorturedAli,Assefwasbyfarthemostrelentless.Hewas,infact,theoriginatoroftheBabalujeer,Hey,Babalu,whodidyoueattoday?Huh?Comeon,Babalu,giveusasmile!Andondayswhenhefeltparticularlyinspired,hespiceduphisbadgeringalittle,Hey,youflat-nosedBabalu,whodidyoueattoday?Tellus,youslant-eyeddonkey!
Nowhewaswalkingtowardus,handsonhiships,hissneakerskickinguplittlepuffsofdust.
"Goodmorning,kunis!?Assefexclaimed,waving."Fag,?thatwasanotherofhisfavoriteinsults.Hassanretreatedbehindmeasthethreeolderboysclosedin.Theystoodbeforeus,threetallboysdressedinjeansandT-shirts.Toweringoverusall,Assefcrossedhisthickarmsonhischest,asavagesortofgrinonhislips.Notforthefirsttime,itoccurredtomethatAssefmightnotbeentirelysane.ItalsooccurredtomehowluckyIwastohaveBabaasmyfather,thesolereason,Ibelieve,Assefhadmostlyrefrainedfromharassingmetoomuch.
HetippedhischintoHassan."Hey,Flat-Nose,?hesaid."HowisBabalu??
Hassansaidnothingandcreptanotherstepbehindme.
"Haveyouheardthenews,boys??Assefsaid,hisgrinneverfaltering."Thekingisgone.Goodriddance.Longlivethepresident!MyfatherknowsDaoudKhan,didyouknowthat,Amir??
"Sodoesmyfather,?Isaid.Inreality,Ihadnoideaifthatwastrueornot.
"Sodoesmyfather,?Assefmimickedmeinawhiningvoice.KamalandWalicackledinunison.IwishedBabawerethere.
"Well,DaoudKhandinedatourhouselastyear,?Assefwenton."Howdoyoulikethat,Amir??
Iwonderedifanyonewouldhearusscreaminthisremotepatchofland.Baba'shousewasagoodkilometeraway.Iwishedwe'dstayedatthehouse.
"DoyouknowwhatIwilltellDaoudKhanthenexttimehecomestoourhousefordinner??Assefsaid."I'mgoingtohavealittlechatwithhim,mantoman,mardtomard.TellhimwhatItoldmymother.AboutHitler.Now,therewasaleader.Agreatleader.
Amanwithvision.I'lltellDaoudKhantorememberthatiftheyhadletHitlerfinishwhathehadstarted,theworldbeabetterplacenow?
"BabasaysHitlerwascrazy,thatheorderedalotofinnocentpeoplekilled,?IheardmyselfsaybeforeIcouldclampahandonmymouth.
Assefsnickered."Hesoundslikemymother,andshe'sGsheshouldknowbetter.Butthentheywantyoutobelievethat,don'tthey?Theydon'twantyoutoknowthetruth.?
Ididn'tknowwho"they?were,orwhattruththeywerehiding,andIdidn'twanttofindout.IwishedIhadn'tsaidanything.IwishedagainI'dlookupandseeBabacomingupthehill.
"Butyouhavetoreadbookstheydon'tgiveoutinschool,?Assefsaid."Ihave.Andmyeyeshavebeenopened.NowIhaveavision,andI'mgoingtoshareitwithournewpresident.Doyouknowwhatitis??
Ishookmyhead.He'Assefalwaysansweredhisownquestions.
HisblueeyesflickedtoHassan."AfghanistanisthelandofPashtuns.Italwayshasbeen,alwayswillbe.WearethetrueAfghans,thepureAfghans,notthisFlat-Nosehere.Hispeoplepolluteourhomeland,ourwatan.Theydirtyourblood.?Hemadeasweeping,grandiosegesturewithhishands."AfghanistanforPashtuns,Isay.That'smyvision.?
Assefshiftedhisgazetomeagain.Helookedlikesomeonecomingoutofagooddream."ToolateforHitler,?hesaid."Butnotforus.?
Hereachedforsomethingfromthebackpocketofhisjeans."I'llaskthepresidenttodowhatthekingdidn'thavethequwattodo.ToridAfghanistanofallthedirty,kasseefHazaras.?
"Justletusgo,Assef,?Isaid,hatingthewaymyvoicetrembled."We'renotbotheringyou.?
以下内容已过滤百度推广
日&-&手表后面写着allst ainlesssteel是什么意思 hy | 14-03-25 全部答案
(共 2 个回答)
全部精钢制作 不生锈 没啥特别的意思,好表都这样 andersen_m | 1...&&普通
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