The Kite Runner- Amirs' Inner Conflicts

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Baba stiffens. That’s enough to send chills through all in the truck. I feel my hand reach out and tug at his sleeve, “Baba sit down. Please.” The Russian draws his pistol. Why does Baba always have to be the hero? Can’t he just let it go for once? The problem is letting go isn’t in his nature and his nature is about to get us killed. All I can do is sit and watch. My mind flashes back to the winter day six years ago. I see myself again suffering from my cowardice, peering down the alley, watching. Baba said it himself; if he hadn’t seen me pulled from my mother he would’ve never believed I was his son, something I myself have to question. My Baba is “Mr Hurricane”, Baba the honourable. Baba is a hero where as I Amir am a coward, a frail disappointment. I’m nothing like him. He would do something. He would have saved Hassan and Hassan would have suck up for me. Our slave is more like my father than I am. I’ll always be the coward. I’ve seen the way Baba looks at Hassan. He looks at him as if he’s the son he never had. Now, looking back in the alley I see more to that scene. I open my mouth to speak, to protect my dearest friend from the suffering he is about to entail, but I hear Assef’s voice. “I’m letting you keep the Kite Hazara” Perhaps if the kite had not been in the picture I would’ve acted with more honour. That blue kite, the kite I had cut winning something for once, was the key to Baba’s heart. If I brought it home then maybe we would have something in common. I could be a winner just like Baba then perhaps I would catch his eyes on me for once, with pride. Baba’s love was something I had always longed for. Was Assef right? Was Hassan just a Hazara? Hassan was not just a Hazara. He would soon be the foundation of my guilt and regrets. It was out of my weakness and jealousy of Baba’s love that I didn’t intervene. I actually aspired to cowardess

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