(The Kite Runner) Amir's Journey To Redemption

Amir's Journey To Redemption

I received a call from Rahim Khan. He was asking me to come to Pakistan. I was happy to hear from him but at the same time I could hear my past of unatoned sins knocking and whispering throughout the call. I could feel my palms growing sweaty and my throat going dry.

All the memories I've been trying to bury came rushing back. They were like demons trying to crawl out from the hole I've shut themselves in, clawing and screaming, after being silenced for so long.

It was suffocating. "There's a way to be good again." I couldn't stop thinking about what Rahim Khan said.

Suddenly, the guilt that I've been holding back was lodged in my throat, it was on the tips of my fingers, on the soles of my feet. It was running through my veins and had its claws wrapped around my beating heart, holding it captive. They were shackles that bound me to the ground I stood on.

AMERICA:

Guilt had never finished eating me up. It was a monster that loomed over me, a beast that kept me close. It never let go of me yet it never got rid of me. Every single day, I was reminded of its presence, in some days I felt it more.

Being in America eased the guilt but it was never gone. It never went away. In all honesty, I don't think it ever will. The "what ifs" and "could-have-beens" were stronger, were louder when I was here.

But even though the guilt was overwhelming me, it was much more bearable than when it was in Kabul.

If you were asking me to describe him, then I'd say that the Amir in the US learned to live with the guilt. He - I learned to live with that weight on my chest – with the fingers constantly wrapped around my throat.

Throughout the years I've lived in the US, I've learned to cope with it. Soraya, was the one who carried me through everything. She was the one who shone bits of light in my life. I know that I don't deserve her, I don't deserve happiness but God knows how much she has saved me. He knows how much she means to me.

PAKISTAN:

I got to Pakistan and Rahim Khan and I talked for a long time. He told me about Hassan, about his wife, his mom, his son, Sohrab. Everything.

He told me about Hassan's death, about how he died protecting our home. I was.. *sighs*, so much feelings were welling up inside me, they were mixing up – guilt, grief, regret...

All I could say was no over and over again, I wanted so much for the world to take me back to my childhood.

Then I wondered, what about Sohrab? Rahim Khan asked me if I could go to Kabul and take Sohrab. To bring him to Peshawar.

I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to go back to Kabul. I didn't want to be within the danger of the Taliban. I had a peaceful life. I didn't want to be reminded of all the mistakes I've made. I said no, that I couldn't, then Rahim Khan suddenly said..

He told me about Ali being sterile and I could guess what he was trying to say. 

Baba sinned. Baba stole.

I was furious, thinking that the Baba I was so proud to have, the Baba I looked up to, committed the one sin he despised so much. He stole Hassan and my right to the truth, Hassan's right to his identity, Hassan's chance to live as a Pashtun...

I stormed out.

Left with my thoughts, I kept thinking about everything I just learned about today.

I can't go to Kabul, I had said to Rahim Khan. I have a wife in America, a home, a career, and a family. But how could I pack up and go back home when my actions may have cost Hassan a chance at those very same things?

Even in death, Hassan was saving me and now, a small part of Hassan lived on and I won't let the guilt overcome me again. Yes, I'm a coward. I was hesitant, but I wasn't letting the monster take over me again. This time, I'm fighting back, even if it was just yelling at it to let go.

AFGHANISTAN:

I got to Kabul, I met with Farid who helped me throughout my search for Sohrab.

Kabul was a foreign place to me at that time yet it still stayed the same somehow. Destruction and poverty was everywhere. People were suffering but the Afghans stayed the same. The same tough and stubborn people who love their land wholeheartedly were fighting to stay alive. They were fighting for something that's supposed to be a right, not a privilege.

Farid and I found Sohrab then encountered Assef who was now a Taliban. He was worse than when we were kids. He was... indescribable. He was the personification of the beast that haunted me.

After fighting with him and escaping with Sohrab we left for Istanbul. I found out that the Caldwells didn't exist and that Rahim Khan disappeared but it was fine.

My journey to Kabul made me so much braver. I've gone from being a coward to someone who actually picked a fight with the monster that has long been haunting me. I picked up a weapon and actually fought back. I fought against the guilt- against everything that's been holding me back. Even if it was too late and I had almost zero chances of winning.

I did it. I was no longer stuck to the ground and it felt so relieving.

Now, I was completely focused on caring for Sohrab and making sure he would be as kind and as loving as his father. I would raise him as my own. I'd give him the life that Hassan didn't get to live. This was the only way I'd repay Hassan for his loyalty.

I couldn't be the friend that Hassan deserved or the brother he was supposed to have but I will be the father his son should have.

I went to the old pomegranate tree to say hello to Hassan. I went to face the sins I've been forcing myself to forget. I went there to remember. I touched the carvings that I put when we were kids That pomegranate tree is the witness to all of my and Hassan's memories – of me reading to him, going to the cinema to watch our favorite movies, the sin that I committed, how our friendship ended. This was the grave of our relationship.

I changed a lot over the course of a few months. I became a little braver and a little bit stronger every time I moved closer to Kabul. Every time something would spark the memories I buried inside. I thought that going back would be a nightmare but instead it became my chance to redemption. A part of me thinks I should've done it sooner but it's okay. I'm done with regretting. I'm just looking forward to the future and what it brings.

I put down the book and left. I won't get the chance to read it to Hassan but I know he would've loved it.