A letter to Khaled Hosseini

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒚. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

𝑲𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒊, 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑹𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓

Dear Khaled,

It's with a heavy heart that I write this letter to you.

But, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓.

I finished The Kite Runner an hour back, and the pain, the turmoil, and the heartbreak of the story are still cursing through my blood. Hassan, poor dear, Hassan. What do I say about that man? What do I say about him that you don't already know? That you didn't already want me to feel when you wrote his heartbreaking story. His story hurt me. His story was THE story. Yes, I have a place for Amir and Sohrab and Baba in my heart too, but what do I do with this mountain-shaped hole that Hassan's story has created in my heart? How do I get over all that he went through? Yes, he was just a character, but his humility, loyalty, and sheer goodness wasn't just that of a character, was it? Then whose it is? Yours? Of some boy you based his character on? Of hundreds of other Hazara boys you came to know about? I don't know. I wouldn't know. But what I do know is that this book hit me the hardest. I love A Thousand Splendid Suns and I love And The Mountains Echoed beyond words, but something about Hassan's story refuses to leave my mind. And heart, of course. But I have shik-wah, a complaint. I wanted to know more about Hassan. I wanted to read about him. I wanted to read about his struggles, his love, his journey through adulthood and through fatherhood. I wanted to know what went on in his mind the day Amir hit him with pomegranates, I want to know what he thought of Amir the day he realized his most favorite story had been a lie. I wanted more, Khaled. I wanted so much more. But then again, maybe 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔, do they?

With a thousand other questions and echoes,

Laeba

~•~•~•~

I know this isn't a review. Maybe there will be one someday. For today, this one will suffice (for me).

That's what Khaled's stories do to you. They make space for pain and tears in your heart. Just when you think you've read enough, you've cried enough over a book, a fictional story, a fictional character, there comes another paragraph, another line, another word that shakes your heart, moves you to tears, makes your heart and mind jump out of their cages because the emotions, the heartbreak is too much. Too much for a fist-sized blood-pumping organ to take. Too much for a soul to read and forget. And I never would. Khaled's stories I can and would NEVER read and forget. His characters get under my skin. They're real and raw and they tell me that life isn't just and fair and reasonable. They slap me right across my face with this realization. They tell me there is still time to be good again.

Khaled Hosseini, the master of words.