A Thousand Splendid Suns
Khaled Hosseini did wonders, yet again. After Syu introduced me to his first book, The Kite Runner, I fell in love instantly. It was by far (at the time) one of the best fictions I have ever read. It is hard for me to re-read the book because everytime I opened the book, I was drowned in Amir's guilt and it hurts so much that it makes me nauseous. Seriously. There is a little of Afghanistan culture mentioned, since the story was set in Kabul. Still, the story is mostly about making amends.
When I saw his second book, A Thousand Splendid Suns, on the top shelf in Popular Bookstore in Mesra Mall, I was very skeptical. It is very common that many authors did their best job in their first book but fails to do the same in the second. There I was, in the bookstore, holding the book feeling skeptical despite the many good reviews and compliments on the cover. I bought it still. I mean, it maybe not as good as the first one but it couldn't be that bad, isn't it?
Oh, how wrong I was. A Thousand Splendid Suns is every emotion put into one story. It was incredible, an amazing read. Two women, two generations, both were brought up differently, brought together by fate. Mariam, who forever let people choose for her, found herself making decision when she meets Laila. Laila, whose dreams shatters at a sound of a whistle and is now forced to abide to other's decision.
From Herat to Kabul, my heart jumps and stops in every twist of events. I wept at little Mariam's despair and I smiled at Laila's love story. I cringed at Rasheed's name and hoped at Tariq's. Taliban, Afghanistan, war, love, hate, despair, all blend together in this gripping story.
I guess women would connect more to this book because in this life, you are either a Mariam or a Laila. Given that situation, who would you become? There's nothing wrong with either because both are brave in their own way. As for me, I am more drawn to Mariam's character. Not that I can relate to her. In fact on the contrary. Mariam is everything that I am not. It would require a different level of bravery when you voluntarily walk to your own death for other people's sake.
All in all, I love this book. Khaled Hosseini mentioned that the title was a part of a 17th century poem called Kabul by a Persian poet Saib-e-Tabrizi. It was translated into English by Josphine Davis. Although, it is not a literal translation, but it has been generally accepted.
Kabul Ah! How beautiful is Kabul encircled by her arid mountains
And Rose, of the trails of thorns she envies
Her gusts of powdered soil, slightly sting my eyes
But I love her, for knowing and loving are born of this same dust
My song exhalts her dazzling tulips
And at the beauty of her trees, I blush
How sparkling the water flows from Pul-I Bastaan!
May Allah protect such beauty from the evil eye of man!
Khizr chose the path to Kabul in order to reach Paradise
For her mountains brought him close to the delights of heaven
From the fort with sprawling walls, A Dragon of protection
Each stone is there more precious than the treasure of Shayagan
Every street of Kabul is enthralling to the eye
Through the bazaars, caravans of Egypt pass
One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs
And the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls
Her laughter of mornings has the gaiety of flowers
Her nights of darkness, the reflections of lustrous hair
Her melodious nightingales, with passion sing their songs
Ardent tunes, as leaves enflamed, cascading from their throats
And I, I sing in the gardens of Jahanara, of Sharbara
And even the trumpets of heaven envy their green pastures
And Rose, of the trails of thorns she envies
Her gusts of powdered soil, slightly sting my eyes
But I love her, for knowing and loving are born of this same dust
My song exhalts her dazzling tulips
And at the beauty of her trees, I blush
How sparkling the water flows from Pul-I Bastaan!
May Allah protect such beauty from the evil eye of man!
Khizr chose the path to Kabul in order to reach Paradise
For her mountains brought him close to the delights of heaven
From the fort with sprawling walls, A Dragon of protection
Each stone is there more precious than the treasure of Shayagan
Every street of Kabul is enthralling to the eye
Through the bazaars, caravans of Egypt pass
One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs
And the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls
Her laughter of mornings has the gaiety of flowers
Her nights of darkness, the reflections of lustrous hair
Her melodious nightingales, with passion sing their songs
Ardent tunes, as leaves enflamed, cascading from their throats
And I, I sing in the gardens of Jahanara, of Sharbara
And even the trumpets of heaven envy their green pastures
