bohemian clothing. Understandably this is not what Amir was expecting. Amir is astounded by the illustrious leader’s questions:
I’ve been wondering,” the Talib said, his bloodshot eyes peering at me over Sohrab’s shoulder. “Whatever happened to old Babalu, anyway?” The question hit me like a hammer between the eyes. I felt the color drain from my face. My legs went cold. Numb. He laughed. “What did you think? That you’d put on a fake beard, and I wouldn’t recognize you? Here’s something I’ll bet you never knew about me: I never forget a face. Not ever. (Hosseini, 2009, p. 294).
Amir is startled by this conversation about his father ‘Babalu’, and he realises that he is confronted with a demon from his