He doesn't know what the world is like today. The thought that his own conception of the world was so different from his father's was like a protecting wall around his entire being. When his father went out into the street he had only the mosque, the Koran, the other old men in his mind. It was the immutable world of law, the written word, unchanging beneficence, but it was in some way wrinkled and dried up. Whereas when Amar stepped out the door there was the whole vast earth waiting, the live mysterious earth, that belonged to him in a way it could belong to no one else, and where anything at all might happen.
In the narrative, there is a notable contrast between the worldview of the father and that of his son, Amar. The father's perspective is rooted in traditional beliefs and institutions, symbolized by the mosque and the Koran. He perceives the world through a lens of rigidity and adherence to established norms, which feels lifeless and static. This rigid outlook creates a protective barrier for Amar, as he realizes his father's understanding of the world is limited and outdated.
Conversely, Amar experiences a more dynamic and expansive view of life when he steps outside. He feels a deep connection to the world around him, sensing its potential and mysteries. To him, the earth is not just a physical space but a realm of possibilities that invites exploration and adventure. This vibrant worldview contrasts sharply with his father's, highlighting a generational divide and the evolving nature of beliefs and experiences.
