第十七章 - 追风筝的人 - 蜗牛双语阅读

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追风筝的人 | 第十七章

2/12

A tall man dressed in a white turban and a green striped chapan stood with a little boy in front of a set of wrought-iron gates. Sunlight slanted in from the left, casting a shadow on half of his rotund face. He was squinting and smiling at the camera, showing a pair of missing front teeth. Even in this blurry Polaroid, the man in the chapan exuded a sense of self-assuredness, of ease. It was in the way he stood, his feet slightly apart, his arms comfortably crossed on his chest, his head titled a little toward the sun. Mostly, it was in the way he smiled. Looking at the photo, one might have concluded that this was a man who thought the world had been good to him. Rahim Khan was right: I would have recognized him if I had bumped into him on the street. The little boy stood bare foot, one arm wrapped around the man's thigh, his shaved head resting against his father's hip. He too was grinning and squinting.

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I unfolded the letter. It was written in Farsi. No dots were omitted, no crosses forgotten, no words blurred together -- the handwriting was almost childlike in its neatness. I began to read:

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In the name of Allah the most beneficent, the most merciful, Amir agha, with my deepest respects,Farzana jan, Sohrab, and I pray that this latest letter finds you in good health and in the light of Allah's good graces.

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Please offer my warmest thanks to Rahim Khan sahib for carrying it to you. I am hopeful that one day I will hold one of your letters in my hands and read of your life in America. Perhaps a photograph of you will even grace our eyes. I have told much about you to Farzana jan and Sohrab, about us growing up together and playing games and running in the streets. They laugh at the stories of all the mischief you and I used to cause!

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追风筝的人 | 第十七章

2/12

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