စြန္လိုက္သူ

စာေရးသူအမည္                             =    Khaled Hosseini 
ထုတ္ေ၀သည့္ခုႏွစ္ ၊။                        =   April 27th 2004 by Riverhead Trade (first published 2003)


အဓိကဇာတ္ေကာင္           = အမီးရ္  ၊ ဟက္ဆန္ ၊ အာဆက္ဖ္
ဇာတ္အိမ္တည္ေဆာက္ရာေနရာ       =  ကဘူးလ္ ျမဳိ႕ ( အာဖဂန္နစၡတန္ )  နယူးေယာက္ ျမဳိ႕ ( အေမရိကန္ႏိုင္ငံ ) ဖရီးမြန္႔ ျမဳိ႕ ( အေမရိကန္ႏိုင္ငံ )

ရရိွေသာ စာေပဆုမ်ား literary awards =   Humanitarian Award by UNHCR (2006), Exclusive Books Boeke Prize (2004),
                                                         ALA Alex Award (2004)


ဖခင္မ်ားႏွင့္သားမ်ားအေၾကာင္း၊ သူငယ္ခ်င္းမိတ္ေဆြသံေယာဇဥ္ႏွင့္ သစၥာဖ်က္ျခင္း ၊ စသည့္ အျခင္းအရာမ်ားမွာသည္ မ်က္ေမွာက္ အာဖဂန္ႏိုင္ငံ၏ မင္းမဲ႕စရုိက္ ႏွင့္ လူသားမဆန္ေတာ့သည္မ်ား

ဒီစာအုပ္ကို ဆရာမ ၀င့္ျပဳံးျမင့္ က တိမ္ယံသစၥာ အမည္ နဲ႕ျမန္မာဘာသာ ျပန္ဆိုျပီး  ပုဂံစာအုပ္တိုက္ မွ ၂၀၀၉ ခုႏွစ္မွာ ထုတ္ေ၀ခဲ့ဘူးပါတယ္ ။
ဖတ္ေစခ်င္ေသာ အပိုင္းအစေလးမ်ားကေတာ့ ၊

“When you kill a man, you steal a life,” Baba said. “You steal his wife’s right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone’s right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. Do you see?"

“Hassan!” I called. “Come back with it!”
He was already turning the street corner, his rubber boots kicking up snow. He stopped, turned. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “For you a thousand times over!” he said. Then he smiled his Hassan smile and disappeared around the corner. The next time I saw him smile unabashedly like that was twenty-six years later, in a faded Polaroid photograph.

In the end, I ran.
I ran because I was a coward. I was afraid of Assef and what he would do to me. I was afraid of getting hurt. That’s what I told myself as I turned my back to the alley, to Hassan. That’s what I made myself believe. I actually aspired to cowardice, because the alternative, the real reason I was running, was that Assef was right: Nothing was free in this world. Maybe Hassan was the price I had to pay, the lamb I had to slay, to win Baba. Was it a fair price? The answer floated to my conscious mind before I could thwart it: He was just a Hazara, wasn’t he?
I ran back the way I’d come. Ran back to the all but deserted bazaar. I lurched to a cubicle and leaned against the padlocked swinging doors. I stood there panting, sweating, wishing things had turned out some other way

“Do you want me to run that kite for you?”
His Adam’s apple rose and fell as he swallowed. The wind lifted his hair. I thought I saw him nod.
“For you, a thousand times over,” I heard myself say.
Then I turned and ran.
It was only a smile, nothing more. It didn’t make everything all right. It didn’t make anything all right. Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird’s flight.
But I’ll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time, and maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting.
I ran. A grown man running with a swarm of screaming children. But I didn’t care. I ran with the wind blowing in my face, and a smile as wide as the Valley of Panjsher on my lips.
I ran.ဒီမွာ ေဒါင္းမယ္ ဗ်

http://www.mediafire.com/file/e0z03mjceqh/The_Kite_Runner-1.pdf