I cried so much reading the latter part of this book.
The earlier chapters stirred more rage than tears, rage at Rasheed, at the cruelty he inflicted, and at the twisted plans he concocted. I cursed the sky for the injustice of it all.
I’m grateful that Laila at least had a father who supported her dreams, though those dreams ultimately collapsed under the weight of war, a power-hungry society, and people who misused the name of God and religion to justify chaos, heartbreak, and suffering.
Then there’s Mariam, “the daughter of a harami,” as they called her. I could never understand men like her father, who already had three wives yet still pursued lust, made a maid pregnant, and refused to take full responsibility for his actions. Mariam’s only “sin” was being born, yet she bore the burden of shame and pain until her death. Married off against her will because her father would not protect her, his eventual attempt at reconciliation came far too late.
I was relieved when Mariam and Laila found companionship in each other, even within the suffocating walls of that abusive household. They became each other’s lifelines. Yes, what Laila did with Tariq was wrong, but Rasheed’s reaction; his twisted plots and unforgivable cruelty; revealed his selfish, violent nature. And the worst part? The system enabled him, in a world where women had no rights at all.
The values upheld by the Taliban were a far cry from true Islamic values, and reading this made me even more thankful to be born in Malaysia. Yet it also left me questioning: what can I do for my Muslim sisters around the world who are still suffering, oppressed, and silenced by such systems?
To be fair, it is wrong to judge all Muslim men as Rasheeds. There are Tariqs, and there are fathers like Laila’s and Tariq’s, men who value kindness, respect, and equality. At the end of the day, it comes down to individual character.
The part that broke me completely was Mariam’s punishment, the quiet courage she showed in her final moments, and Laila’s return to Mariam’s old home, imagining her younger self there. Those scenes left me speechless, powerless, and aching, because while this is a work of historical fiction, I know there are countless Mariams and Lailas still living similar tragedies today.
Rating: ★★★★★
A solid 5 stars. Khaled Hosseini masterfully wove plot, subplot, and character arcs with historical depth and emotional weight. It is dark, haunting, and heartbreaking, yet profoundly human. I understand why this book comes so highly recommended, but I’m glad I read it in my 30s. Through the lens of motherhood and marriage, the story resonated even more deeply, making it not just a novel I read, but one I felt.
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