![]() The skirting finally came to an end over dinner when the general put down his fork and said, "So, Amir jan, you're going to tell us why you have brought back this boy with you?" "Iqbal jan! What sort of question is that?" Khala Jamila said. As if we were skirting around the edge of what he really wanted to know. (2.23)īut as we spoke, I caught his eyes drifting again and again to Sohrab sleeping on the couch. ![]() I had heard some of the kids in the neighborhood yell those names to Hassan. It also said some things I did know, like that people called Hazaras mice-eating, flat-nosed, load-carrying donkeys. The book said a lot of things I didn't know, things my teachers hadn't mentioned. The book said part of the reason Pashtuns had oppressed the Hazaras was that Pashtuns were Sunni Muslims, while Hazaras were Shi'a. It said the Hazaras had tried to rise against the Pashtuns in the nineteenth century, but the Pashtuns had "quelled them with unspeakable violence." The book said that my people had killed the Hazaras, driven them from their lands, burned their homes, and sold their women. An entire chapter dedicated to Hassan's people! In it, I read that my people, the Pashtuns, had persecuted and oppressed the Hazaras. I blew the dust off it, sneaked it into bed with me that night, and was stunned to find an entire chapter on Hazara history. It was written by an Iranian named Khorami. Then one day, I was in Baba's study, looking through his stuff, when I found one of my mother's old history books. School text books barely mentioned them and referred to their ancestry only in passing. For years, that was all I knew about the Hazaras, that they were Mogul descendants, and that they looked a little like Chinese people. (21.They called him "flat-nosed" because of Ali and Hassan's characteristic Hazara Mongoloid features. "And they call themselves Muslims," he whispered. A low-pitched murmur spread through the crowd. "And what manner of punishment, brothers and sisters, befits the adulterer? How shall we punish those who dishonor the sanctity of marriage? How shall we deal with those who spit in the face of God? How shall we answer those who throw stones at the windows of God's house? WE SHALL THROW THE STONES BACK!" He shut off the microphone. "Every sinner must be punished in a manner befitting his sin!" the cleric repeated into the mike, lowering his voice, enunciating each word slowly, dramatically. My head was pounding and the sun felt much too hot. Those are the words of GOD!" He pointed with his free hand to the sky. Those are not my words, nor the words of my brothers. And what does God say? I ask you! WHAT DOES GOD SAY? God says that every sinner must be punished in a manner befitting his sin. We listen to what God says and we obey because we are nothing but humble, powerless creatures before God's greatness. We are here today because the will of Allah and the word of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, are alive and well here in Afghanistan, our beloved homeland. "Brothers and sisters!" he called, speaking in Farsi, his voice booming through the stadium. When the prayer was done, the cleric cleared his throat. "God help us all if Afghanistan ever falls into their hands." (3.13-25) "Do you want to know what your father thinks about sin?" "Yes." "Then I'll tell you," Baba said, "but first understand this and understand it now, Amir: You'll never learn anything of value from those bearded idiots." "You mean Mullah Fatiullah Khan?" "They do nothing but thumb their prayer beads and recite a book written in a tongue they don't even understand." He took a sip. ![]() "But if what he said is true then does it make you a sinner, Baba?" "Hmm." Baba crushed an ice cube between his teeth. "I see you've confused what you're learning in school with actual education," he said in his thick voice. He told us one day that Islam considered drinking a terrible sin those who drank would answer for their sin on the day of Qiyamat, Judgment Day. He lectured us about the virtues of zakat and the duty of hadj he taught us the intricacies of performing the five daily namaz prayers, and made us memorize verses from the Koran – and though he never translated the words for us, he did stress, sometimes with the help of a stripped willow branch, that we had to pronounce the Arabic words correctly so God would hear us better. His name was Mullah Fatiullah Khan, a short, stubby man with a face full of acne scars and a gruff voice. When I was in fifth grade, we had a mullah who taught us about Islam.
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