I watched Baba’s car pull away from the curb, taking with it the person whose first spoken word had been my name.
Kehilangan sesuatu yang kita miliki selalu lebih menyakitkan daripada tidak memiliki sama sekali.
But, miraculously, something of her former life remained, her last link to the person she had been before she had become so utterly alone. A part of Tariq still alive inside her, sprouting tiny arms, growing translucent hands.
Can I ask what you’re reading?“... She turned the book so the cover faced me. Wuthering Heights. “Have you read it?” She said. I nodded. I could feel the pulsating beat of my heart behind my eyes. “It’s a sad story.” “Sad stories make good books,” She said. “They do.
Prinsip Baba dalam menyelenggarakan pesta adalah: Bukan pesta kalau kau tidak mengundang semua orang di seluruh dunia.
Dan akhirnya, pertanyaan yang selalu kembali padaku adalah: Bagaimana mungkin aku, dari semua orang lain, menghakimi seseorang atas masa lalu mereka?
Tapi waktu sungguh serakah, kadang-kadang ia mencuri semua detail tanpa menyisakan apapun.
Luka bisa disembuhkan. Reputasi tidak bisa dipulihkan.
There is only what you do and what you don’t do.
Seruas jari harus dipotong untuk menyelamatkan tangan.
Mereka tidak melakukan apa pun kecuali menghitung butiran tasbih dan memamerkan hafalan isi kitab yang ditulis dalam bahasa yang tidak mereka pahami. Kuharap Tuhan melindungi kita semua jika suatu saat nanti Afganistan jatuh ke tangan mereka.
For courage, there must be something at stake.
Of course, it wouldn’t have happened if Mammy had shown up like she was supposed to either. Sometimes Laila wondered why Mammy had even bothered having her. People, she believed now, shouldn’t be allowed to have new children if they’d already given away all their love to their old ones. It wasn’t fair.
I was glad I didn’t have to return his gaze. Did he know I knew? And if he knew, then what would I see if I did look in his eyes? Blame? Indignation? Or, God forbid, what I feared most: guileless devotion?
So much had happened since those childhood days, so much that needed to be said. But that first night the enormity of it all stole the words from her. That night, it was blessing enough to be beside him. It was blessing enough to know that he was here, to feel the warmth of him next to her, to lie with him, their heads touching, his right hand laced in her left.
My dear Martin, in the long summer of childhood, when I was a boy the age you are now, your uncles and I spread our mattress on the roof of your grandfather’s farmhouse outside of Homs.
That night, it was blessing enough to be beside him. It was blessing enough to know that he was here, to feel the warmth of him next to her, to lie with him, their heads touching, his right hand laced in her left.
Time is the most unforgiving of fires.
Tak ada tindakan yang lebih buruk daripada mencuri. Orang yang mengambil sesuatu yang bukan haknya, baik itu kehidupan orang lain ataupun sepotong naan.
The truth was no. The lie was yes. I settled for something in between. “I don’t know.