Kite Runner, The (2007)

[bunniefuu]

San Francisco, California 2000

You ready? Yeah. Let's go.

Is that what I think it is? I think so.

You nervous? As long as they spelled my name right.

You want a moment alone with it? I want you right here with me.

There it is.

There it is.

Your baby.

I'll get it.

Hello?

Hello?

Amirjan.

Rahim Khan?

It is kind of you to remember.

I have missed you, Amir jan.

It's good to hear your voice.

You should come home.

Home?

I don't know if now's such a good time.

It's a very bad time, but you should come.

There is a way to be good again, Amir.

Kabul, Afghanistan 1978

Take the spool. Hold it right.

Give me string!

Hold the spool right.

I cut him! Victory!

Victory!

This way!

Where are you going?

Catch it, it's going this way!

We're losing it!

Trust me!

What are you doing here?

Come sit, Amir.

You're wasting time here.

The kite went the other way.

It will come this way.

How do you know? I know.

But how?

Have I ever lied to you?

How should I know?

I'd rather eat dirt.

Would you really do that?

Do what? Eat dirt if I told you to.

If you asked, I would.

But would you really ask me to do such a thing?

Are you crazy?

You know I wouldn't.

I know.

Thank you, Agha sahib.

I want them to start building tomorrow.

This should have happened a long time ago.

Absolutely, Sahib! And thank you.

The orphans of Kabul will never forget you.

Somehow I suspect they will.

You know the bureaucrats will steal half the money.

Only half?

They've gotten lazy.

Hey, Mister Jaylawni Conjure up the winds for me You could have beaten him.

Me? Weren't you watching Omar back there?

He never loses.

If you have the right kite, you'll win the tournament this year.

With the victory of Saur Revolution for the first time in the history of this country the political sovereignty and political power have been bestowed upon the Democratic Party of the People of Afghanistan.

This will get bloody before it gets better.

Usually a safe bet.

They say the Communists are starting brawls at the university.

A student was stabbed last week.

I'm glad Amir's too young to be involved in all this.

Amir?

Trust me, he won't be getting into any brawls.

Sometimes I see him playing on the street with the neighborhood boys.

They push him around, take his toys from him, but Amir, he never fights back. Never.

So he's not violent.

You know what happens when the other kids tease him?

Hassan steps in and fends them off.

And when they come home, I say to him, "How did Hassan get that scrape on his face?"

He says, "He fell down."

There's something missing in that boy.

My friend, children aren't coloring books.

You don't get to fill them with your favorite colors.

He's not like you. He'll never be like you.

But watch. He'll turn out well.

A boy who won't stand up for himself, becomes a man who won't stand up for anything.

Amir jan, may I come in?

I wanted to say goodbye.

I'm going to Pakistan tomorrow.

That's a fine kite.

Hassan ran it down.

The boy's got a gift.

What are you working on?

A story.

May I read it?

It's not very good.

All the same, I'd love to read it.

Thank you, Amir jan.

I'll read it tonight.

He hates me because I k*lled her.

My mother.

Amir, don't ever say such a thing.

Don't ever think it.

But it's true.

No, Amir jan.

It's a dangerous thing, being born.

Dangerous for the mother, dangerous for the child.

Your father would die for you.

You know that,

don't you?

Amir jan.

Come on, do it. It's wrong, Amir agha.

Do you have to be so holy all the time?

Just one?

Just one.

You'd think one day he'd wise up.

You got your allowance?

Yeah, how about we see The Magnificent Seven again?

We deal in lead, friend!

I'm a friend of Harry Luck's. He tells me you're broke.

No. I'm doing this because I'm an eccentric millionaire.

There's a job for six men watching over a village just south of the border.

How big's the opposition?

Thirty g*ns.

I admire your notion of fair odds, mister.

I admire your notion of fair odds, mister.

Harry tells me you faced bigger odds in the Travis County w*r.

Who's your favorite? Steve McQueen.

I like Charles Bronson. Maybe someday we'll go to Iran.

Why?

Maybe we'd see him somewhere.

I could get his autograph.

Charles Bronson's not Iranian. He's not?

So why does he speak Farsi with an Iranian accent?

Where are you going, fagots?

What do you boys think:

If I paid you to be my friends, would you really be my friends? Or would you be my servants?

Gee, Assef, if you were paying us, that would make us your servants!

So I guess Amir has no friends.

We're not bothering you.

Wrong.

You are bothering me.

Afghanistan is the land of the Pashtuns.

We're the real Afghans.

Not this flat-nose Hazara.

His people pollute our homeland. They dirty our blood.

If idiots like you and your father didn't take these people in, we'd be rid of them.

Please leave us alone, Agha.

Put it down, you motherless Hazara.

Leave us in peace.

Maybe you didn't notice, but there are three of us, and two of you.

And maybe you didn't notice that I'm the one holding the slingshot.

Forget it.

We'll deal with these fagots later.

What's this? Rahim Khan left it for you.

He liked it.

Liked what?

My story!

Well of course he liked it. You tell great stories.

"Bravo," he wrote. Bravo!

Bravo?

Do you know what "bravo" means?

It's Italian for genius.

What's the story about?

It's about a man who finds a magic cup.

And he learns that if he weeps into the cup, his tears turn to pearls.

He's very poor, you know?

And, at the end of the story, he's sitting on a mountain of pearls with a bloody Kn*fe in his hand and his dead wife in his arms.

So he k*lled her? Yes, Hassan.

So that he'd cry and get rich.

Yes, you're very quick.

What?

Nothing, Amir agha. Are you done with breakfast?

What?

Well, will you permit me to ask a question about the story?

Of course.

Why did the man have to k*ll his wife?

Because each of his tears becomes a pearl.

Yes, but why couldn't he just smell an onion?

The mullahs at school say drinking is a sin.

They say drinkers will pay when the Reckoning comes.

Do you want to know what your father thinks about sin?

Yes.

Then I'll tell you.

But first understand this and understand it now:

You'll never learn anything of value from those bearded idiots.

You mean the mullahs?

I piss on the beards of those self-righteous monkeys.

They do nothing but thumb their prayer beads and recite a book written in a tongue they don't even understand.

There is only one sin. And that is theft.

Every other sin is a variation of theft. Do you understand that?

No, Baba jan.

When you k*ll a man, you steal a life.

You steal his wife's right to her husband, his children's right to a father.

When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth.

There is no act more wretched than stealing.

Do you see?

Yes, Baba.

Good.

All this talk of sinning is making me thirsty.

Hassan! Hassan!

Go, he's calling you.

Happy Birthday.

It's made in America.

I figured, if you're going to be my bodyguard, you need a proper w*apon.

Thank you, Amir agha.

Come on, let's go.

What does it say?

Amir and Hassan, the Sultans of Kabul.

The Sultans of Kabul!

You want a story?

Rostam and Sohrab.

Not them again. I've read you that one fifty times.

How about Rudabeh?

It's your book, Amir agha.

All right, Rostam and Sohrab. It's your birthday.

Your dad got a new car?

Isn't that the car they drive in Bullitt?

Steve McQueen!

I heard it was someone's birthday.

It's your day, Hassan. Why don't you sit up front?

Are you ready for your birthday present?

Is it a drawing book? Better!

A toy g*n? Better!

Uncle Saifo!

My brother! It's been too long.

Everyone good?

It's his birthday, he can have any kite he wants.

Here they are.

Take your pick.

I want that one.

We'll take it.

A good choice.

I was just lucky that time.

It wasn't luck, Amir agha. You're better than him.

I know you're going to win.

You have too much faith in me.

Ali made the cauliflower especially for you.

Yes. Every time I come, he makes the cauliflower.

I know. You come here too often.

The tournament's tomorrow?

Are you and Hassan ready?

We've been practicing.

Did I ever tell you about the year I won?

I'm fairly sure you told everyone in Kabul about the year you won.

Fourteen kites I cut down.

I think that's still a record.

Yes, yes, yes. Eat.

I think you're going to make Agha sahib very proud today.

You think so?

Inshallah.

Inshallah.

It's really crowded.

I'm not sure it's the best day to fly a kite.

Why?

It's a beautiful day.

It's the two of us against all of Kabul.

I admire your notion of fair odds, mister.

Let's fly.

Put down the spool.

Take it!

Take it from under.

Okay, I'm under.

We cut him! We cut him!

Amir agha!

Go a little to your right.

We cut him! We cut him!

They could break your record.

Let's see.

Hold the spool right.

Take him, Omar!

Omar! Omar! Omar!

Omar!

I cut him!

Victory! Victory!

How many has he cut? I've counted twelve.

I think he wants Baba's record.

We can't let that happen.

Last one, Omar agha.

Pull your string forward.

Cut him!

It's just the two of them now.

Bravo, Amir agha!

You cut him!

We won! We won!

Amir, I'm going to run that blue kite for you.

Hassan! Come back with it!

For you, a thousand times over!

What am I supposed to do with this? You're the reason I got cut!

Have you seen a Hazara boy come this way?

Wearing a red chapan.

I saw a boy running that way. He had a kite in his hand.

They've probably caught him by now. Who?

The big boys chasing him.

Where's your slingshot, Hazara?

You don't look so brave today.

But I'm in a mood to forgive. What do you say to that, boys?

Very generous.

Especially after the rude manners he showed last time.

Forgiven. It's done.

Of course, nothing is free in this world.

My pardon comes with a small price.

Nothing is free.

You're a lucky Hazara.

Because, today, it's only going to cost you that kite.

Fair deal.

What do you think, boys? More than fair.

Amir agha won the tournament and I ran this kite for him.

This is his.

Loyal Hazara.

Loyal dog.

Before you sacrifice yourself for him, think about this, Hazara:

Would he do the same for you?

Have you ever wondered why he only plays with you when no one else is around?

I said, "Why," Hazara!

Because, to him, you're nothing but an ugly pet.

Something he can play with when he's bored.

Something he can kick when he's angry.

Amir agha and I are friends.

Friends?

You fool. Enough of this.

Give us the kite.

Last chance.

As you wish.

Keep it.

So it will always remind you of what I'm about to do to you.

Nothing is free.

He's just a servant's son.

I'm not sure, Assef. My father says it's wrong.

Your father's a Communist.

And there's nothing wrong about teaching this donkey a lesson.

Just hold him down.

Let's get out of here.

Where were you? I was looking for you.

Let's go, Agha sahib will worry.

Good job.

Come here.

Well done.

Where's Hassan?

He went back to sleep.

The last few weeks, all he wants to do is sleep.

After chores he just crawls under his blanket.

Can I ask you something?

Did something happen, Amir agha?

Something he's not telling me?

How should I know? Maybe he's sick.

People get sick, you know.

The mullahs want to rule our souls and the Communists tell us we don't have any.

More importantly, El Cid is playing. We could go tomorrow.

Tell Hassan to come with us?

He's not feeling well.

Really? What's wrong with him?

He's got a cold or something.

Ali says he's sleeping it off.

I haven't seen you two playing together in weeks.

What happened?

Nothing. He's just been a little sick.

Hassan never gets sick.

Whatever's going on, you should deal with it before too long.

Take care not to let these things fester.

Time will only make it worse.

What are you reading?

It's for little kids. I just... I'm trying to learn.

I'd rather hear one of your stories.

I'm done making up stories.

Why?

Because they're stupid.

I don't think they're stupid. I love your stories.

What would you do if I hit you with this?

What would you do?

Hit me back!

Hit me back!

Hit me back!

Hit me back.

You're a coward.

Blood's good for the trees.

Come on, birthday boy. Let's go inside.

Ali, is everything ready?

Don't worry, it will be soon.

Move it back a little. Yes, of course.

Have you ever thought about getting new servants?

Why would I want to do that?

I guess you wouldn't. It was just a question.

I grew up with Ali.

My father took him in, loved him like his own son.

Forty years he's been with my family. Forty g*dd*mn years.

And you think I'm just going to throw him out?

I've never laid a hand on you, but you ever say that again...

You bring me shame.

And, Hassan...

Hassan's not going anywhere.

Do you understand?

I said, do you understand?

Yes, Baba.

You bring me shame.

Massoud jan, how are you?

Welcome. Happy birthday.

Welcome.

Hello, Amir jan. Happy birthday.

Hello, Amir jan. How are you?

It is modest and not worthy of you.

Happy birthday.

Hassan said your copy was getting old, missing some pages.

Thank you.

Amir.

Happy birthday, Amir jan.

Happy birthday.

What a splendid suit. Great party, Amir.

Aren't you going to thank Assef?

Thank you.

Please, enjoy.

Amir jan.

Shouldn't you be entertaining your guests?

I didn't know you drank.

Turns out I do.

But only on the most important occasions.

You know you can tell me anything you want. Anytime.

I know.

Here, I almost forgot.

For your stories.

Come. You're missing your party.

Baba.

Have you seen my watch anywhere?

The one I just bought you?

Don't tell me you already lost it.

No. I know I had it in my room.

I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere.

What's wrong?

Ali.

When you finish your work, come inside with Hassan.

Yes, Agha sahib.

Did you steal Amir's watch, Hassan?

Yes.

I forgive you.

We're leaving, Agha sahib.

What?

We can't live here any more.

But I forgive him. Didn't you hear me, Ali?

Life here is impossible for us now, Agha sahib.

We're leaving.

I don't care about the watch.

I don't understand why you're doing this.

I'm sorry, Agha sahib, but our bags are already packed.

We've made our decision.

Ali.

Haven't I provided for you?

Haven't I been good to you and Hassan?

At least tell me why.

I forbid you to do this!

Do you hear me?

I forbid you!

Respectfully, you can't forbid me anything, Agha sahib.

We don't work for you any more.

Soviet Invasion December 1979

Pack a bag. Only what you need.

Hurry up!

They'll come for me. We don't know that.

Read your history, my friend. By the time we know it, it will be too late.

You know how I am. You know how I talk.

Everyone in Kabul has heard me cursing the Communists.

Will you watch over the house for me? We'll be back when the Russians leave.

What if they don't leave?

Everyone leaves. This country is not kind to invaders.

And you, my friend?

Where will you go?

Pakistan, first.

After that, wherever is safest for the boy.

The smugglers want five thousand a head for safe passage to Pakistan.

I'm fairly sure they won't take cheques.

What about a Mustang?

He wants a half hour with the lady in the back of the truck.

What?

No.

Brother.

Please ask mister soldier sahib to show a little mercy.

Maybe he has a wife, too.

It's his price for letting us pass.

I want you to ask this man something.

Ask him where his shame is.

He says, there is no shame in w*r.

Tell him he is wrong. w*r doesn't negate decency.

What did he say?

He says he'd enjoy putting a b*llet in you, almost as much as he'd enjoy her.

I'll take a thousand of his b*ll*ts before I let this indecency take place.

Baba, please, he'll sh**t you. Have I taught you nothing?

Tell him he'd better k*ll me good with the first sh*t.

Because if I don't go down, I'm tearing him to pieces, g*dd*mn his father!

You are very kind.

It's not worthy of a thank you.

Get out. Come on, get out.

Keep it moving. Keep it moving.

Why did you stop?

We can't get you across the border in that truck.

We don't have enough money for all the Russians.

So what are we doing? Go climb into that vehicle.

You're joking.

Your choice, Agha sahib.

Climb up quickly.

Turn around and go down.

I'm with you. Go.

You see it?

Yes.

Don't be afraid. I'm right here with you.

I can't breathe, Baba.

Think of something else. Think of a poem.

Rumi?

You've memorized some, haven't you?

I want to hear one.

"If we come to sleep we are His drowsy ones

"And if we come to wake we are in His hands"

Keep going.

"If we come to weeping we are His cloud full of raindrops

"And if we come to laughing we are His lightning in that moment"

Good job.

"If we come to anger and battle it is the reflection of His wrath

"And if we come to peace and pardon it is the reflection of His love

"Who are we in this complicated world?"

Fremont, California 1988

A pack of those.

Is that your car? Yeah.

Beautiful car. Thanks.

Richard Hidalgo.

Erin Hill.

Denise Hawking.

Damon Hooper.

June Kitagawa.

Hi. Hello.

Tonight I'm very happy. Well, that's good.

Tonight I drink with my son. Hi.

How are you, my friend? Let's have a drink with us.

What you like to drink? Scotch.

Three Scotch, please. I'll have a beer instead. Thanks.

Budweiser? Sure.

Please.

My son, the college graduate.

It's just community college. It's college.

And someday, Dr. Amir!

You know I want to write. Write?

I don't want to be a doctor.

Cheers.

One more, sir.

So instead of being doctor and saving lives, he wants make up stories.

And for money, you can work at the gas station with me.

We'll put your diploma on the wall.

Whatever you think.

Beautiful! Beautiful sh*t! You see that sh*t?

A pitcher of beer for gentlemen, please.

Cheers. My son, he graduates college today.

Way to go, man. Congratulations. Thank you.

f*ck the Russia!

f*ck the Russia! f*ck Russia.

I wish Hassan had been with us today.

This would make him happy.

Four, so that's $6. Okay.

Amir jan.

This is General Sahib, Mr. Iqbal Taheri.

He was a decorated general in Kabul.

Such a lofty introduction.

Salaam, my child. Salaam, General Sahib.

Amir is going to be a great writer.

It is God's will.

Will you be writing about our country?

History, perhaps?

I write fiction.

A storyteller.

Well, people do need their stories to divert them occasionally.

Father, you forgot your tea. You are too kind, my dear.

My daughter, Soraya jan.

Well, time to go set up.

Best of luck with the writing.

Until later. Goodbye.

What?

She has made an impression on you?

Please, Baba.

What are you writing?

A story.

Write well.

How much? $160.

Not bad.

You want a Coke? Sure. Be careful.

Of what?

The General is a Pashtun to the root. He has honor and pride.

I was only going to get us Cokes.

Just don't embarrass me.

That's all I ask.

I won't.

Hi. Hi.

Is General Sahib here today? Yeah, he went that way.

Will you tell him that I stopped by to pay my respects?

I will.

Thank you. Oh, and my name's Amir.

In case you need to know, so you can tell him that I stopped by.

To pay my respects.

I'll go now. Sorry to disturb you. Oh, no, no, you didn't.

Good.

Can I ask what you're reading?

Have you read it?

It's a sad story.

I heard you write.

Would you like to read one of my stories?

I'd like that.

Great.

How much for this? $5.

I'll give you three. Okay.

Thank you.

You're not much of a haggler. I know.

I brought you something.

You remembered. Of course.

Our aspiring storyteller. What a pleasure.

They say it will rain this week.

Hard to believe, isn't it?

You know, child, I've grown rather fond of you.

You're a decent boy.

But, sometimes, even decent boys need reminding.

So it's my duty to remind you that you are among peers.

Here, everyone is a storyteller.

Do pass my respects to your father.

Yes, of course.

For your granddaughter? My granddaughter.

Impossible. Thank you very much.

Here you go. Thank You.

Have a good day. You're welcome.

Amir.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

The General?

You okay?

You all right?

Have you been coughing?

Yes.

Where are you from?

I grew up in Michigan. Came out here for medical school.

Once you get used to that California sunshine...

But your family? My family.

We're originally from Russia.

I'm sorry.

How are you feeling? The same.

We have your results back.

Wait outside for me.

"The citizens of Kabul were skeletons now, skeletons selling naswar in the night market, skeletons drinking cups of strong tea, skeletons playing cards in the moonlight.

They greeted me as I passed, teeth clacking together in their jaws.

'Salaam, brother', they said.

"Welcome home."

It's sort of a work in progress.

It's called The Sultans of Kabul.

Good title.

Keep going.

That's the end.

That's not an ending.

It's my story.

I get to end it how I want.

I'm tired of these machines. Tomorrow I want you to take me home.

But Dr. Amani said...

It's not Dr. Amani's decision.

How are you, my friend?

You shouldn't have burdened yourselves.

It's no burden.

No burden at all.

If you need anything, ask me like you'd ask a brother.

Your coming here has brightened my eyes.

What about you, Amir jan?

Do you need anything?

No, thank you, General Sahib.

Excuse me.

Thank you.

Those are beautiful flowers.

I'm really sorry.

You better go back inside or your father will come after me.

Your story made me cry.

You read it?

Our secret?

Yeah.

Our secret.

Can I do anything else for you?

No, child. Thank you.

Then I wonder if you'd do something for me.

I want you to go khastegari.

I want you to ask General Taheri for his daughter's hand.

Are you sure?

More sure than I've ever been about anything.

Then give me the phone and my address book.

Now?

Then when?

Yes, much better.

It was gracious of you to come.

I called to ask, if you have time, if I may pay you a visit tomorrow morning.

It's an honorable matter.

Nine o'clock?

That's just fine.

Until then.

Go home.

I'll call you in an hour.

Okay. Good luck.

Hello?

The General accepted.

He accepted? Yes, he accepted.

But Soraya jan wants to talk to you first.

About what? About what?

How do I know about what? She wants to talk to you.

Okay. Okay. I'm on my way.

How are you? Come inside and have some tea.

He didn't come for tea.

It doesn't matter, we're going out for a walk.

You do want to get married?

To me, I mean. Of course I do.

It's just... I want to tell you something, something you need to know.

I don't want us to start with secrets.

We lived in Virginia before we came here.

We left because I ran away with an Afghan man.

I was 18. I guess I thought I was being rebellious.

We lived together for almost a month.

All the Afghans in Virginia were talking about it.

My father eventually found us.

He showed up at the door and he made me come home.

I was hysterical, and I told him I hated him.

We moved out to California a few weeks later.

I didn't talk to my father for a very long time. And now...

Now I feel like he's the reason why I'm here.

Does what I told you bother you?

A little.

Does it bother you enough to change your mind?

No.

Not even close.

I'd marry you tonight if I could.

What do you see?

The rest of my life.

They're so funny. They were crazy.

That's a funny picture.

They're so cute.

Amir jan? Right here, Baba.

Help me to bed.

Of course.

I'll come back with your morphine and a glass of water.

No.

There is no pain tonight.

Come here, my daughter.

San Francisco 2000 It will not be easy.

But you must come, Amir.

All right.

You're a good man.

God willing.

Goodbye.

You all right?

I have to go to Pakistan.

Pakistan?

Rahim Khan is very sick.

Your father's friend?

Is it safe right now?

What about the book tour?

There wouldn't be any books if not for Rahim Khan.

Peshawar, Pakistan It's terrible what's happening in your country.

Afghani people and Pakistani people, they are like brothers.

Muslim have to help Muslim.

They call this area Afghan Town.

Sometimes it feels like Peshawar is a suburb of Kabul.

This way.

Amir jan.

Amir jan.

Welcome, welcome.

You've become a man.

General Taheri's daughter.

She's a beauty.

Any children?

We tried, but it doesn't seem possible for us.

Thank you.

How long have you been in Pakistan?

Less than a year. Kabul is no longer safe for me.

The Taliban are as bad as they say?

Oh, worse.

Much worse. They don't let you be human.

They even banned kite flying.

I have something for you.

What's this?

Look.

"For Rahim Khan, who listened to my stories

"before I knew how to write them."

This is a great honor, Amir.

Let me take you home with me.

I can find you a good doctor.

They're coming up with new treatments all the time.

Amir, Amir, Amir.

I see America has infused you with her optimism.

But there is such a thing as God's will.

Come, sit.

I didn't bring you here to complain about my health.

Forgive me, Amir jan. Forgive me for what I have to tell you.

Hassan is dead.

How?

You know I watched over your father's house after you left.

But none of the caretakers I hired lasted more than a year.

Some were dishonest, some lazy.

So a few years ago I went to Hazarajat and brought Hassan and his family home with me.

His wife, Farzana, and his son, Sohrab.

Rostam and Sohrab

It was so good to have them there.

Hassan kept the house from falling apart.

And Farzana cooked the meals.

It was good.

Very good.

But when my health began to fail, well, there isn't a hospital in Afghanistan that can help me, so I came here.

A few weeks after I left, the Taliban came to the house.

Hassan told them that he was looking after the house for me, but...

They said that he was a liar and a thief like all the other Hazaras.

And they ordered him to leave with his family by nightfall.

Hassan wouldn't leave.

So they took him to the street and ordered him to kneel

and sh*t him in the back of the head.

Farzana came screaming and att*cked them and...

They sh*t her, too.

And the boy?

Sohrab?

He is in an orphanage

in Karteh Seh.

Hassan sent this to me a week before he d*ed.

It's for you.

He taught himself to read and write.

He didn't want to send you a letter until he could do it properly.

Amir,

you need to go back to Kabul.

I've arranged for a driver. He's a good man.

I can't go back to Kabul.

Can't you pay someone here to go? I'll pay for it if it's a matter of money.

It's not about money.

You are a storyteller.

Some part of you has always known this story.

Ali's first wife was from Jaghori.

What does that have to do with anything?

After five years she left him childless, and married a man from Khost.

She bore that man three daughters.

Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?

Ali was sterile.

But he had Hassan.

He raised Hassan. He didn't father him.

Your father loved you both because you were both his sons, and Sohrab... No.

He's your nephew.

I don't believe you.

You do.

That's what frightens you.

You're saying my father, for all those years, lied to me.

Please think.

All that a man had back then was his honor, his name, and if people talked...

He lied to me. He lied to both of you.

And now there is a way to be good again.

"In the name of God, the merciful, the compassionate, Amir agha, with my deepest respects.

My wife and son and I pray this letter finds you in fine health, and in the light of God's good graces.

I'm hopeful that one day I will hold one of your letters in my hands and read of your life in America.

I am trying to learn English. It's such a tricky language.

But one day, agha. I miss your stories.

I've included a picture of me and my son, Sohrab.

He's a good boy.

Rahim Khan and I taught him how to read and write, so he doesn't grow up stupid like his father.

And can he sh**t with that slingshot you gave me!

But I fear for him, Amir agha.

The Afghanistan of our youth is long dead.

Kindness is gone from the land, and you cannot escape the killings.

Always the killings.

I dream that God will guide us to a better day.

I dream that my son will grow up to be a good person, a free person, an important person.

I dream that flowers will bloom in the streets of Kabul again, and music will play in the samovar houses, and kites will fly in the skies.

And I dream that someday you will return to Kabul to revisit the land of our childhood.

If you do, you'll find an old faithful friend waiting for you.

May God be with you always.

Hassan.

Hello?

Hi.

Did I wake you up? No.

You all right?

I have to tell you a story.

What's his name?

Stop playing with it.

I really have to wear it?

You know what the Taliban will do to you if they see you are clean-shaven?

So what brings you back to Afghanistan?

Come to sell off your father's land, pocket the money?

I'm not here to sell anything.

I'm going to Kabul to find a boy.

A boy?

This boy?

This Hazara boy?

Yeah.

What he means to you?

His father meant a lot to me. He's the man in the photo.

He's dead now.

It was a friend of yours?

He was my brother.

I feel like a tourist in my own country.

You've always been a tourist here. You just didn't know it.

What happened to the trees? The Russians chopped them down.

You know what they're doing?

He's selling his leg?

He can get good money for it.

Feed your kids for a couple of weeks.

What's that smell? Diesel.

The power's always going off so people use generators.

Do you remember what this street smelled like in the old days?

Lamb kabob.

Beard patrol.

What's the matter with you?

What?

Don't you ever stare at them!

Understand me?

Never!

We're looking for this boy.

I'm sorry. I've never seen him.

You barely looked at the picture, my friend.

I know all the children here and that one doesn't look familiar.

And now, if you'll permit me...

We don't mean him any harm.

I told you he's not here.

Now, please, go away. Friend, we are not with the Taliban.

The man wants to take this boy to a safe place.

I knew Sohrab's father.

His name was Hassan.

There's hope for this boy, Agha.

A way out.

I can take him back to America with me.

I'm his uncle.

What I have to tell you is not pleasant.

I tell you, because I believe you.

You have the look of desperate men.

There is a Talib official.

He visits every month or two.

He brings cash with him.

Not a lot, but better than nothing.

Usually, he takes a girl.

But not always.

And you allow this?

What choice do I have?

You're the director here.

Your job is to watch over these children.

There is nothing I can do.

You're selling children! Easy.

You're here to protect them!

Yes, I am here to protect them.

Sit.

And you, brother?

You come here to rescue a boy, take him back to America, give him a good life.

It must seem heroic, huh?

But what of the other two hundred children?

You'll never see them again.

You'll never hear them howling in the night.

I spent my life savings on this orphanage.

Everything I owned or inherited I sold to run this godforsaken place.

You think I don't have family in Pakistan or Iran?

I could have run like everyone else.

If I deny him one child, he takes 10.

So, I let him take one, and leave the judging to Allah.

I take his filthy money, and I go to the bazaar, and I buy food for the children.

You think I spend it on myself?

Look at me.

Look.

What happens to the children he takes?

Sometimes, they come back, more often, they don't.

Who is he?

How do I find him?

Go to the Ghazi Stadium tomorrow.

You'll see him at halftime.

He'll be the one making speeches.

Now, please leave. You've frightened the children.

Pull over here.

We should go.

I have to look at one more thing.

Nothing that you remember has survived.

Better to forget.

I don't want to forget any more.

Do you want to stay here?

No, but we have to.

That's him.

Brothers and sisters!

We are here today to carry out Shari'a.

We are here today to carry out justice.

We listen to what God says, and we obey.

And what does God say?

Every sinner must be punished in a manner befitting his sin.

Those are not my words, nor the words of my brothers.

Those are the words of God!

And what manner of punishment benefits the adulterer?

How shall we punish those who dishonor the sanctity of marriage?

How shall we deal with those who disobey God?

How shall we answer those who throw stones at the windows of God's house?

We shall throw stones back!

My friend.

My friend, a word?

We have business with your brother.

Personal business.

I guess I'll wait in the car. This is your business now.

Thank you for helping me.

Anyone there?

I was told to come here.

Come in.

Thank you.

How soft.

Sit down.

Sit down.

I think there's been a mistake.

I came to see your friend.

The man who made the speech at the stadium.

He has other business.

You can do away with that now.

I'm not sure what you mean.

Take off your beard.

One of the better ones I've seen.

Take off the turban.

You come from America?

Yes.

I'm looking for a boy.

Isn't everybody?

I understand your friend brought him here.

His name is Sohrab.

Let me ask you something.

What are you doing with that whore America?

Why aren't you here with your Muslim brothers, serving your country.

I've been away for a long time.

That's an answer?

Not an answer, they say.

I'm only here for the boy.

Do you want to see him?

Come, my boy.

Such a talented little Hazara.

Leave us be.

I've been wondering, whatever happened to your great Baba, anyway?

What did you think?

That you'd put on a fake beard and I wouldn't recognize you?

I knew you the second I saw you in the stadium.

I never forget a face. Never!

Assef?

Amir jan.

What are you doing here?

Me?

I'm home.

The question is, what are you doing here?

I'm taking the boy home with me.

You want my advice?

Run away.

That's what you do best.

Not without Sohrab.

Why's that?

The boy's too good for his country?

What do you know about Afghanistan?

You weren't here when the Communists sh*t our mullahs and pissed in our mosques.

This country was like a beautiful mansion littered with garbage.

We took out the garbage. We brought law. We brought justice.

I have seen your laws and your justice.

And I'm taking the boy home with me.

All right, then.

Of course, I didn't say you could take him for free.

No more.

No more, Agha. Please, stop hurting him.

Put it down, Hazara. You'll get yours next.

Put it down!

Get it out!

Get it out!

k*ll him!

Go home to your family.

Are you Amir?

Rahim Khan left this for you.

Where did he go?

I did not ask.

But he'll be back?

He has left us, my child.

You're wasting your hand.

Sohrab?

Sohrab?

Sohrab?

Sohrab?

Take off your shoes, dear brother.

Forgive me.

I thought I lost you.

He used to come get me in the morning before prayers.

I didn't want him to get me any more.

He won't, Sohrab.

I swear to you, he can't get you any more.

Are your parents dead?

Yes.

Do you remember what they look like?

I never met my mother.

I remember what my father looked like.

I'm starting to forget their faces.

Is that bad?

Here.

Sometimes I'm glad they're dead.

Why?

Because...

Because I don't want them to see me.

I'm so dirty.

You're not dirty.

I won't hurt you.

That's my wife.

Missed you. Missed you, too.

Sohrab jan, this is your aunt.

We've all been waiting for you.

Ready to meet your new family?

Let's go.

Do you like your room?

You don't look so bad.

I don't think he's looked at me once.

Give him time.

I'm knitting him a turtleneck sweater for next winter.

The sweaters they sell here don't last a month.

Amir jan.

You're going to tell me why you've brought this boy back with you?

What sort of question is that?

While you're busy knitting sweaters, my dear, I have to deal with the community perception of our family.

People will ask why there is a Hazara boy living with our daughter.

What do I tell them?

You can tell them...

It's all right.

The General is correct.

People will ask.

Amir? It's all right.

You see, General Sahib, my father slept with his servant's wife.

And she bore him a son named Hassan.

Hassan is dead now.

That boy sleeping in the other room is Hassan's son.

He's my nephew.

That's what you tell people when they ask.

And one more thing, General Sahib.

You will never again refer to him as "a Hazara boy" in my presence.

He has a name, and it's Sohrab.

It felt so real. Thank you.

My pleasure. Thank you.

Look. Look at that.

Excuse me a second.

I'd like that kite, please.

And I'll take this spool.

Do you like the kite?

Did I ever tell you your father was the best kite runner in all Kabul?

He made all the neighborhood kids jealous.

He'd run the kites and never look up at the sky.

Some claimed he was just chasing the kite's shadow.

But they didn't know him like I did.

Your father wasn't chasing shadows.

He just knew.

That's all.

Do you want to help me fly this?

Okay.

Looks like I have to fly it solo.

Last chance.

Here I go.

It's a good kite, no?

Do you want to try?

Here.

Hold it tight, Sohrab jan.

Good job, Sohrab.

Pull, pull, pull!

Looks like someone wants a fight.

Are you sure?

Let's teach him a lesson, no?

Watch, Sohrab.

I'm going to show you one of your father's favorite tricks.

An old technique.

Lift and Dive.

Come.

Come closer.

Here he comes!

We're going to catch him now, right?

Look, I cut him!

What are you doing, you can't hold it right?

I'm sorry!

Do you want me to run that kite for you?

For you, a thousand times over.