Page 179 - The Kite Runner

168 Khaled Hosseini

In keeping with tradition, Soraya was not present.
A few moments of small talk and idle chatter followed until
the general cleared his throat. The room became quiet and
everyone looked down at their hands in respect. The general nod-
ded toward Baba.
Baba cleared his own throat. When he began, he couldn’t
speak in complete sentences without stopping to breathe. “Gen-
eral Sahib, Khanum Jamila jan . . . it’s with great humility that my
son and I . . . have come to your home today. You are ...honorable
people ...from distinguished and reputable families and ...proud
lineage. I come with nothing but the utmost ihtiram . . . and the
highest regards for you, your family names, and the memory ...of
your ancestors.” He stopped. Caught his breath. Wiped his brow.
“Amir jan is my only son ...my only child, and he has been a good
son to me. I hope he proves...worthy of your kindness. I ask that
you honor Amir jan and me . . . and accept my son into your family.”
The general nodded politely.
“We are honored to welcome the son of a man such as yourself
into our family,” he said. “Your reputation precedes you. I was your
humble admirer in Kabul and remain so today. We are honored
that your family and ours will be joined.
“Amir jan, as for you, I welcome you to my home as a son, as the
husband of my daughter who is the noor of my eye. Your pain will
be our pain, your joy our joy. I hope that you will come to see your
Khala Jamila and me as a second set of parents, and I pray for your
and our lovely Soraya jan’s happiness. You both have our blessings.”
Everyone applauded, and with that signal, heads turned
toward the hallway. The moment I’d waited for.
Soraya appeared at the end. Dressed in a stunning wine-
colored traditional Afghan dress with long sleeves and gold trim-