• S e v e n t e e n •
K. Housseni: (٤) "Picture of Fallen Splendor"
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This is just the dunya. -- We've been saying this to remind ourselves how everything (hardships and pain) is temporary. We drive great strength from it. SubhanAllah, we depend on it to keep moving forward.
But... Isn't this the temporary which matters, and the fleeting moments we spend here that count? Is it "just" dunya now? For the first time, "The Kite Runner" made me question it this way. I could say it's a treasure I found from this book, because no matter how temporary it is, it is fate. And fate is a curiously comforting thing; one destined to conform us into the deserving.
It's like there are strings that keep you bound on a road that is best for you. You can't escape it, no matter what you try, but there's enough room to dream. It isn't just anything. We're in a grand story of life created by the Architect that lets everything revolve on its orbit, each one of us playing our part without error. If there was one treasure I discovered from reading this book, it's that there's a fine line between what we can and can't do. Fate draws that line, suspending us on a ball of soil.
Then again, there's the promise of our Lord. We aren't alone here, the du'a you make shifts those lines of fate. It is only apparent, but isn't it elegant how we are led to speak that specific du'a? Is your du'a strong enough to see through those lines of fate? Do you make du'a in a way like you've been asking for the brightest star from the night sky? Like you believe he could bring the ships of fate to shore? Like your du'as hold the answers for someone's heart? Like you could be the home their soul is searching for? Are you this beautifully dependent on your du'as yet?
I keep asking myself how strong my belief in His Power is, and I don't like the fact that this book offers none of it. Not that the reality isn't harsh, but it's perceived in such a stale way by so many people, I almost felt like not reading the entirety of it. There's no other emotion behind those words except pain, almost like Khaled H. knew nothing of the flavour of knowing your blessings.
Because a true believer's du'a alone should be enough to calm our hearts in submission, for there is a connection within our souls and the Creator. A merciful bond that reminds us He does no harm. You know what corrupts the mind into thinking that we can hide? Assumptions, abandoning the needy, not trying enough, and arrogance. Amir was truly damaged beyond repair.
The entire text, and every chapter of guilt and misery that Amir lives through, I could only think; Why doesn't anyone tell him he's wrong when he is? Why isn't there anyone who could look at him with hope? We glorify success to unhealthy levels, because inherently, we are addicted to that adrenaline rush. So much so that for most of us, we don't see failure as an option, in fact the problem is we can't.
It's social conditioning, with a little twist in Koi's Law.
For those of you who haven't heard of Koi's Law, it shows that the Koi fish grows according to the size of its tank / water body. People apply this to humans in various contexts. (I've been thinking of including it in a new writing project to explain those contexts... In Shaa Allah). In Amir's case, it's Rahim Khan who was deciding the size of the tank, because he knew about the misadventure that happened to Hassan while running that kite. The thing that really pushed me over the edge was how coolly Rahim Khan "handled" the situation. In my head, I was screaming:
Tell him. Tell him he's wrong!
Only a few of us are blessed with friends who tell us where we're going wrong, sometimes we don't know it ourselves. I never expected Rahim Khan to be so abandoning, despite the special bond he had with Amir. It just shows how some relationships seem strong but when it comes to withstanding the tides, they break within seconds. People could say it's protection; no, it isn't, nor is it kindness to let people *CHILDREN* wallow in self-guilt even if you had the power to tell them how they could overcome it.
Abu Hurayra said, "A believer is the mirror of his brother. When he sees a fault in it, he should correct it." Reference: Al-Adab Al-Mufrad 238
The story was, of course, woven that way to cause maximum effect at climax. And it did, because I am still so mad at Rahim Khan. It's plainly inhumane to watch someone you know dig themselves a grave out of their life like that. Pointing out mistakes in a way that doesn't add weight to the ego is a sign of care.
Growing up isn't easy on its own because we have people around us who would rather save themselves the trouble of your wrongdoings than trying to save you. Rahim Khan could've easily gotten rid of Amir's unease when he was young, but he let it brew and bubble for years. He let Amir get away with it, making him think that all his failures and misfortunes are a result of him being a coward. The one who was majorly at fault at that time too; was society and people like Rahim Khan.
Everything comes back to you, good or bad was the moral of a story in my English textbook when I was in Year 4. I believed it that day. And perhaps to this day, somehow or the other, I can see the truth beneath it. But we are Muslims, we also believe in a Divine Power above us, one who is Capable of erasing our wrongdoings. Isn't this why we are able to live in peace? Just because of our pleas and du'as? I've seen the moral in TKR too, but there is almost zero representation of religion in it.
The concept is so dilute, it could pass for unislamic.
This is how destructive abandonment could become. Especially to a child who doesn't know what he's supposed to do with guilt. But then, I can't testify for someone else's intentions. That would be like using my imagination to figure out what was going on in someone else's mind. What we see as justice could actually not be that, because our stories are not designed by Allah in our views of justice and injustice.
I am only talking about Rahim Khan because I have no words for Amir's father. He has just crushed every bit of respect that was left. I may probably still be in shock, maybe I'll address his issues another day. But I can't say Khaled Housseni isn't gifted with literary skills, he was awesome.
If there were words to summarise the whole book, it would be the words used to describe Amir's house at the very end of the book, it is indeed, a "picture of fallen splendor".
(*I've used the American spelling of splendour for the keen-eyed reader, because Khaled Housseni used the same version. :P Lol.)
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-Jasmin A.
YOU ARE READING
Tales From Agrabah
Randomagrabah (n.) : the place where I and my mind fictionally live.
