I became who I am today on a cloudy cold winter day in 1975
Twelve years old. I distinctly remember lying behind a collapsed mud wall, peering into the alley next to the frozen stream.
Many years have passed, and people say that old things can be buried, but I finally understand that this is wrong, because the past will climb up on its own. Looking back, I realize that for the past twenty-six years, I have been peering into the deserted alley.
One day this summer, my friend Rahim Khan called from Pakistan and asked me to go back to visit him. As I stood in the kitchen, the earpiece pressed to my ear, I knew that the phone line was connected not only to Rahim Khan, but also to my past sins that had not been redeemed.
After hanging up the phone, I left the house and went for a walk on Spruke Lake, north of Golden Gate Park. The afternoon sun shines on the sparkling water, and dozens of light boats drift in the breeze. I looked up and saw two red kites, with long blue tails, rising in the sky. They danced, flying over the woods west of the park, over windmills, floating side by side, like a pair of eyes looking down on the old jinshan, the city I now consider home. Suddenly, Hassan's voice rang in my head: For you, a thousand times. Hassan, the rabbit-lipped Hassan, the kite chaser.
I sat down on a bench under a willow tree in the park, thinking about the meaningful words that Rahim Khan had said before he hung up the phone. There's a way to be a good guy again. I looked up at the wind that was flying in unison, etc.
I remember Hassan. I miss Dad. I thought of Ali. I miss Kabul. I think of my life, of the winter of 1975 that changed everything. That's who I am today.
The people behind us cheered and applauded, erupting into whistles and applause. I gasped.
The last time I felt so excited was on that winter day in 1975, just after I cut a kite after the zui, when I saw my dad on our roof, clapping and radiant.
I looked down at Sohrab, the corner of his mouth slightly cocked.
smile.
Oblique.
Almost invisible.
But it's there.
Behind us, the children were galloping, and the kite chasers kept screaming and messing up, chasing the broken-line kite that was fluttering high above the treetop. I blinked and the smile was gone. But it showed up there, and I saw it.
"Do you want me to chase that kite for you?"
His throat knot swallowed and squirmed up and down. The wind swept up his hair. I think I saw him nod.
"For you, a thousand times." I heard myself say. Then I turned around and I chased.
It was just a smile, nothing else. It didn't get everything back to normal. It didn't get anything back to normal. Just a smile, a little thing, like a leaf in the woods, swaying in the flight of a startling bird.
But I'll greet it with open arms. Because whenever spring comes, it always melts a snowflake every time; And maybe what I just saw was the melting of diyi snowflakes.
I chase. An adult runs through a crowd of screaming children. But I don't care. I chase,
The wind blew across my face, and i had a big smile on my lips like Panjhir Gorge.
I chase.
Ah Xiang after reading: Childhood memories are always full of infinite memories and sadness, every experience of childhood, every thing done will plant a seed for our future, will be full of influence on our lives, but also another kind of salvation of the soul. As the translator Li Jihong said, "Everyone has a kite in their heart, which can represent family, friendship, love, integrity, kindness and honesty." Whatever it means, we should be brave enough to chase it."
No matter what kind of suffering, we can also be like Hassan, like Amir and his father and servants for the people they love thousands of times, and pass on to the children the virtues of integrity, kindness, honesty and bravery. All the efforts are reaped in the future, and all the loneliness is waiting for the flowers to blossom. Behind each piercing, there is hidden the energy given by the road that has been traveled [breeze]