The Pakistani Bride. Bapsi Sidhwa

catch the strings of drifting, defeated kites and the triumph of hauling them in was shared by all. Nikka, too, loved flying kites and there were many good-natured fights between him and the experts on the Mullah’s roof.

      In the Mullah’s house the men wore beards. It was an austere household and even the little girls covered their heads at the warning click from the microphone which preceded the Mullah’s call to prayer. The men gathered in the mosque and the women who had performed wazoo, that is, had washed themselves as specified in the Quran, spread their mats wherever they could. They knelt, facing Makkah, to pray, undisturbed by the children crawling, squalling, running, and quarrelling around them. The rest of the women covered their heads and prayed silently for the duration of the call, carrying on with whatever they were doing, stirring the pot in the kitchen or breast-feeding the babies.

      Once Zaitoon overheard a woman saying that a ten-year-old was pregnant. “How can that be?” she asked incredulously. “She’s not married: it’s impossible!”

      “It has happened, strange as it might be.” Someone confirmed it, and Zaitoon believed it was a miracle. For a while after that she yearned for the miracle to strike her as well.

      Besides the Mullah’s, Miriam and Zaitoon regularly visited the butcher’s, electrician’s, haberdasher’s, and hakeem’s families. All of them were as well-off if not better off than Miriam, considering the quantities of lamb cooked in their kitchens, and the presence of servants.

       Chapter 7

      One warm Friday morning toward the end of spring, just after prayers, Nikka was offered his first important political commission.