The Kite Runner: Chapter Activity I

Our class divided into groups and worked on projects in World Literature class, all for The Kite Runner. We had to choose an activity for every two chapters starting with chapters fifteen to sixteen. My personal favorite chapter activity for The Kite Runner that I worked on is the short story activity. This activity was about writing an at-least two paged short story in the view of any character in the original book except the character, Amir, who tells readers the story in The Kite Runner. My partner and I chose this activity for chapters fifteen to sixteen and created the story in the viewpoint of Hassan, Amir's best friend. This short story we created contained flashbacks to the period Hassan left Kabul with Ali, his father, to the time he is visited by Rahim Khan, a man who was close to him during his childhood.

I chose this chapter activity as my favorite out of the four I did because while I was writing it, I felt as if I was the character himself. I tried to step into the shoes of Hassan in order to help readers feel the mood of the story. I also tried to create this story so readers could clearly imagine the scenes. Below is the copy of the short story chapter activity.

The Kite Runner Chapter Activity: Short Story

This short story is in the view of Hassan from The Kite Runner for chapters fifteen to sixteen. We wrote the story from Hassan’s point of view with flashbacks to the period he left Kabul with Ali to the time he is visited by Rahim Khan.

I was washing the dishes while the thoughts of the memories I had in Kabul came through my mind. Many years have passed since I left Kabul and arrived in Hazarajat. My father, Ali, and I decided to move out from Amir and his father’s house because we could not live, I mean, I could not live with the feeling I had when my one close friend, Amir, stayed silent although he saw me get raped by Assef. He himself did want me to leave his house as well. He had me take the blame for stealing his watch and money to make me leave. I did miss Amir’s father. I missed Amir too, but less than how much I missed his father. I came across to think a lot about Rahim Khan and how he was such a thoughtful, caring, and wise person to look up to. I missed him.

Several years after I moved to Hazarajat, I met a girl named Farzana. She was quiet and beautiful. She has beautiful hazel eyes and probably is the most courteous, wisest woman I have ever seen in my entire life. I was the luckiest person on earth when I married her. We soon found ourselves a house. The house was very small, but it was the only house in Hazarajat that had a mud wall with a walled garden or as our neighbors like to call it, the “green” wall. We thought our house was similar to a bright, glorified, warm hut. To think about it, I am living a life that I would ask for if I was ever given a choice to choose what my life would be like.

I stopped thinking about the past when my wife called me over to the living room so I could help her clean it. She was small, and I sometimes would have to move things over for her while she was cleaning, but it became more difficult for her to clean since we were expecting a child. After I helped her, I walked back to the kitchen right next to the living room to continue washing the dishes.

It was raining for a little while a few days later, which made our green garden wall look much greener. I was placing dough on a large wooden spatula and slapping it against the wall of the tandoor, a cylindrical oven made of clay used for cooking and baking, just next to the acacia tree that my wife loves and takes care of so much. Just then, a man came to me and started staring at me. I looked at the man, and he was surely the skinniest and the most ill-looking man I have seen in that year. He was extremely skinny and pale, and he also looked internally, mentally damaged and ill as in being lonely as well. I asked him if he was looking for someone or a house in Hazarajat. I dropped my dough into the tandoor when I heard him talking.

I recognized the voice at the moment. He was Rahim Khan.

I was so taken back to see him standing right here, in front of me, for the first time in years since I moved to Hazarajat. I started to kiss his hands continuously until he told me to stop. After a few more moments of being amazed, I welcomed Rahim Khan into my house. Farzana asked me who he was, and I introduced Rahim Khan to her, and her to Rahim Khan with a voice that anyone could tell that I was proud of her.

Rahim Khan and I started to have a conversation about the people I missed and the people he missed and how we were both living. I told him that I have been living a wonderful life and told him that our baby is due inshallah (if it is God’s will) this winter, and that I am praying he will be a boy to carry my father’s name.

“Speaking of Ali, where is he?”

I told him that my father was killed by a landmine with his cousin two years ago.

My wife then brought us a freshly cooked and warm shorwa. Rahim Khan ate it like it was the best thing he ever ate in years. After he ate, he asked me if I was willing to take Farzana with me to Amir’s house in Kabul with him. I did not give him an answer right then, but I later told him that Farzana and I made ourselves a life at Hazarajat, and that Hazarajat was our home now. He understood.

I asked about Amir. I asked if he got married, has kids, is happy now, and so much more that even I could not tell how many questions I had asked. Rahim Khan did not know the answer to most of the questions about Amir. When I asked about Amir’s father, Rahim Khan looked down and told me he passed away. I cried for him the rest of the night. That night, Farzana and I thought about once more if we should go back to Kabul with Rahim Khan.

The next morning, I told him, “"We don’t have that much to drop, Rahim Khan. We’ll go with you. We’ll help you take care of the house.” Rahim asked me if I was sure, and I nodded my head. Farzana and I prepared to leave for Kabul that day, and as we were leaving, I looked back at our green-walled house one last time.