It was the spring of 1981. I was eighteen years old when Baba and I left for America. Fremont California we were heading to. It was sad to leave behind the memories, yet the new surrounding helped me forget about my betrayal to Hassan. Over the years Ali and Hassan were forgotten. Baba and I never talked about the past.
Every Saturday we would wake up early, jump in the tan van, and go to garage sales finding the best bargains possible. Then, we would go to the market, set up our stand and try to sell the junk for a profit. It surprised me how many people actually would buy the stuff. The other vendors there were Afgahn culture as well. We all became family. The chattering and stories would go around all day long. The market was significant in my life because it was where I met the love of my life Soraya.
A couple months after being married Baba got extremely sick. He was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors suggested chemo but Baba refused. He had a painful few months and then one day never woke up. I was so alone without Baba, even with Soraya's comfort. To this day I still miss him terribly.
It seemed as though one bad thing after another was happening. We found out that Soraya was unable to have kids. It destroyed both of us. They suggested adoption for us but we still wanted our own kids. I had published four novels by that time which was great accomplishment. Yet it didn't seem like enough.
Then I got a phone call and learned that Baba's best friend Rahim Khan was very sick and on the verge of death. It wasn't even a question, I had to go visit him back in Afgahanistan. After talking it over, Soraya and I decided that I should go to Afgahanistan and she will stay back with her mother.
It was back to my hometown. Where the flashbacks and memories became alive.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment