#kitefighting

   The Kite Runner. Though I have endured much heartache and multiple sacrifices to earn it, this title is my greatest honour.  I am aware the idea of kite fighting might go over the heads of some foreigners reading this blog, but here is a useful link which I hope helps explain this interesting tradition.  It is so great to see people from other countries appreciate Afghanistan’s traditions! Also, despite not being a native, this man describes kite fighting splendidly.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiOFpLd1jKE 

   Kite fighting is a beloved pastime in Kabul, but the reason it is held so dear to my heart is because it is a beloved pastime of Amir Agha and Agha Sahib. If Amir Agha had asked me to be a spectator, I would surely do it; but he didn’t, he gave me the chance to run his kites. To me, kite running is liberation. When my legs sail through the streets of Kabul, I feel much like the kite. Free.  As my feet scurry through the dirt, nothing matters; being a Hazara, my mother’s absence, the taunting, all irrelevant. I have no more issues than that kite in the sky; just one purpose, to reunite with it. Maybe that’s why I never have to look to the sky when I’m running, because me and the kite are complimentary, and I like to think, that maybe it is looking for me too.  As Amir Agha taught me last week, it is fascinating.

  Speaking of Amir Agha, I am swollen with pride for him! There was no contender more deserving of first place, than him at the kite tournament last week.  Also, I am glad that Agha Sahib was there to see it, as anyone with eyes can see how Amir Agha pines for his approval; and I want the best for both of them. However, I must note that Amir Agha has seemed hostile towards me ever since his win at the kite tournament. I am almost certain he knows of what happened to me when I ran for that blue kite.  Maybe that is why he wants nothing to do with me now, because I am rubbish. I will not divulge further into detail, but I lost my innocence that day, and apparently, my best friend. Was Assef right, am I truly just a pet to Amir Agha? Just because I am Hazara and he is Pashtun? I would be heartbroken if this is true; Amir Agha is such a ginormous part of my story. I wonder if his narrative would be full of regret and guilt, as mine seems to be shaping up to be. Would I mean anything to him? My heart would sink deeper than the Kabul river if was to ever find out that I had caused him any guilt or suffering. I already know what being the kite runner means to me, both freedom and sacrifice. But while me and Amir Agha go through these harsh times, I just want to know; what does the kite runner mean to him?