Sikander managed to glimpse a smile from her and responded in kind. As she too, withdrew into the rear of the house, it dawned on Sikander that Yaqub was probably married to both this woman and the older one. Yaqub’s oldest son and Hinna had to be the older woman’s children.
As the conversation meandered over dinner, Sikander learned that he had guessed correctly and that the younger woman’s name was Yasmeen. The older one was Shahnaz. The night drew on and the hosts and guests chatted about things in Pakistan and the war and life in general. Each time a new course of food was served, Hinna brought it in and collected the empty dishes. Yaqub made several more references to his daughter’s skills and other fine qualities without sounding too much like a salesman but making it increasingly apparent to Abdul Latif that Yaqub was hoping for a proposal. In these parts, no clock ticked faster than for a daughter that had come of age and getting her married as soon as possible was a parental duty. The evening’s invitation had not lacked such a motive.
As far as Sikander was able to see, Yaqub’s aspirations for Hinna might have been making headway with Ejaz. It wasn’t long before the travelers’ weariness was all too apparent and the guests finally asked their host’s permission to leave. Aurangzeb led them back to the rest house to spend the night.
Among the dreams Sikander experienced that night, the most memorable was vivid and pleasant. He was alone, in front of a large shiny granite wall. Deep black in color, it seemed to challenge him to climb it. All around him was barren sand, a blue sky, and this impossible wall. Looking up he saw that it rose to a great height, perhaps a hundred meters. Instinctively, he reached out to caress the smooth granite with the palm of a hand, a little higher up the wall than his head and was surprised to feel it grip the surface, almost as a lizard’s foot might do. His knees and toes were similarly endowed and readily supported his weight. With impossible ease he scaled the wall, and when he reached the top he found he was standing on the top surface of an immense granite cube where he could comfortably walk upright.
Almost immediately, the hitherto shiny black surface transformed into a beautiful green pasture, and a short distance in front of him was a fast-flowing stream. The smell of clean air was palpable. He found himself dwelling on each breath to savor its sweetness. A small boat moored to the stump of what was once a large bush floated on the stream. As he neared the boat, he became aware of a stunningly beautiful girl standing on the stream’s opposite bank. About his age, possibly younger, she was dressed in black from head to toe, but her dupattha and qamees were trimmed with a silver embroidered design. The dark outfit contrasted with her creamy face, and as his eyes connected with hers, she held his gaze expectantly and leaned very slightly forward in a demure bow.
While bowing, she made a gently beckoning gesture with her arm, then straightened and smiled, hopeful for Sikander’s next move.
Without a thought he stepped into the boat, loosened the mooring, and shoved off toward her. But the boat soon began taking on water.
Immediately Sikander’s attention was drawn to preventing it from sinking, but as he lost his balance the boat capsized, depositing him into the water. Strangely, he didn’t feel the need to struggle even as he sensed his lungs filling. Through the surface of the water, mesmerized by her appearance, Sikander saw the girl looking down upon his submerged face and heard her soft voice calling: “Sikander… Sikander… Sikand—”
Sikander’s eyes stirred, then opened. Ejaz?
Ejaz was calling out to him in a loud whisper while nudging him awake.
“Uuh? What? What is it?” Sikander asked, disappointed with the realization he’d only been dreaming, though pleased with the experience.
“You awake?” whispered Ejaz.
“I am now, but…what time is it?” Sikander rubbed his eyes.
“Three o’clock.”
“Three? In the morning!?” Sikander whispered wearily, preserving the relative silence between them.
“I can’t sleep,” Ejaz clarified. “I can’t stop thinking about Yaqub’s daughter. Did you see her eyes and her golden hair? Huh! W’Allahi, she’s put a spell on me. I…I’m lost to her!” Idiotically, Ejaz shook his head as he emitted a heavy sigh.
“Mhmm… I know what you mean, Ejaz,” acknowledged Sikander, still in a loud whisper, and now more awake. “Want to go outside and talk?” Against the faint light coming through a window, Ejaz’s silhouetted head nodded as he quietly arose, picked up his blanket, and wrapped it around his shoulders. The two crept out into the open to talk more easily.
Sikander felt out of place. He was at least three years the junior of the two and hardly in a position to dispense advice. It was no doubt a measure of Ejaz’s less than competent state of mind, thought Sikander, that he imagined his new, young friend might help him think through his predicament. Still, Sikander was mildly annoyed that this was the only reason he’d been transported from such a delightful scene as his erstwhile dream into Ejaz’s reality.
“So?”
“So, I suppose I could tell my uncle that as she’s an available girl and I am after all, unmarried…maybe he could intercede for me with Yaqub?” said Ejaz as he developed his idea.
“Sounds straightforward enough. What’s your problem?” Sikander’s puzzlement compounded his irritation.
“What if she doesn’t want to marry me?”
Sikander was surprised but impressed by the question. “Ejaz, surely if her father consents, why do—?”
“It’s his consent without hers that I worry about,” Ejaz interrupted. “She’s obviously lived under her mother’s wing until now and what could he possibly know of her wishes, to be handing her over to a stranger like me?”
“Well, we’re in no position to solve that problem right now, are we, Ejaz? I mean, we’re what—eight?—maybe ten kilometers behind where we should be right now, and this…distraction…is hardly something we can afford.” Sikander shook his head. “I can’t imagine your uncle getting sidetracked by it when we have to press on to Laghar Juy.”
“I can…” The voice from behind startled both of them. “Hm! But not for long.”
“Uncle!” uttered Ejaz, in surprised embarrassment.
Abdul Latif suspended a shrug. “I heard voices and thought someone might be stealing the cargo or the mules,” he explained in a low voice.
“What uh, what exactly do you think you can do?” Ejaz asked,
Smiling smugly Abdul Latif turned to the matter at hand. “Ejaz, I was there last night, you know, and I understand the mind of someone like Yaqub a lot better than you do.” Abdul Latif remained cryptic to entertain himself just a little longer with Ejaz’s uncertainty over the extent of any eavesdropping. “Oh, come now, Ejaz,” he continued. “Let’s get to the point. You want to ask for Hinna and Yaqub wants you to ask for her. After that, will you like her? Will she like you? Allahu a’alam!” he shrugged.
Ejaz was transfixed.
“Ejaz, who likes whom is one of life’s unfathomable mysteries, but know that you won’t remain who you are and she won’t remain who she is, at least not for long. You’ll affect who she’ll become and she you. So the way I see it, what matters isn’t so much what’s true now, but what you both do in life together to make true for the future.”
“So, what do you have in mind, Uncle?”
Abdul Latif was way ahead of Ejaz.
“Well, it would be proper for me to approach Yaqub. He seemed interested last night anyway so he shouldn’t be surprised. But I’m also going to suggest that he seek his daughter’s permission to accept his recommendation. I’ll say it’s our family custom and we think it’s bad luck not to consult the bride-to-be.” He chuckled triumphantly.
“Uncle…I—” began Ejaz, who could then say little else. His uncle’s characteristic beneficence, understanding, and intellect had again proven indispensible.
“It’s almost time for fajr. We have a long day in front of us,” said Abdul Latif in closing. “Now that you’ve ruined a night
’s sleep, do you mind if we get back to bed for the hour or so we have left?”
The three of them returned to the house and slid back under their blankets. As he lay there, Sikander recalled the passage he’d last read in Shakespeare and mused that here was Ejaz, who had taken the tide at its flood all right, but who also seemed to understand exquisitely the bard’s reference to “losing our ventures.”
Morning broke and the usual duties were performed. Yaqub wasn’t about to risk his melmasthia reputation by allowing his guests to come looking for breakfast. He ordered up food and instructed Nadeem and Sohail to take it to their quarters, while Aurangzeb was directed to tend to the mules that had to be fed and watered before resuming the journey.
After breakfast, Abdul Latif returned to Yaqub’s house with Ejaz to broach the subject of Hinna.
“Brother Yaqub,” he began, “you’ve been a most gracious host and indeed attended to our every need while we’ve been here. Reluctantly, we must now depart, but before we do, I confess that having seen how richly endowed you are with your…talented…daughter, we would be most honored if you would give your permission and seek hers to be…well, to be engaged to my nephew.” He gestured to Ejaz.
Barely concealing his delight, Yaqub briefly studied Ejaz before returning his attention to Abdul Latif. “I see,” he declared. “And what have you in mind exactly?” It was Yaqub’s cryptic reference to mehr.
“That will need to be determined no doubt more precisely,” offered Abdul Latif, “but Brother Yaqub, you might consider that Ejaz is an upstanding man and the surviving son of Abdus Sami, my brother, the shaheed who fought and died for the mujahideen at the caves of Zhawar. Will she not be honored enough by becoming his wife?”
“Of course, of course!” uttered Yaqub, having heard this for the first time and now really warming to the idea. He called out to his senior wife, “Shahnaz!” and gestured to Aurangzeb to retrieve his mother. It was also her right to give her daughter away in marriage. With her dupattha drawn forward, Shahnaz stepped silently into the room. She offered a dignified salaam greeting and was respectfully acknowledged. Yaqub described the proposal from Abdul Latif as she absorbed it all through her veil without words or movement. Hers was also a concern about the mehr and she, too, had her own tangential way of addressing it.
“Brother,” she began, “Hinna is as close to me as my own liver and I have sheltered, clothed, and fed this daughter of mine for almost twenty years. I cannot allow her to be harmed in any way. We know of the honorable ways of the Shinwari and we respect your brother’s brave shahadah. But how can I be confident that my daughter will not be abused?”
“On my word of honor, your daughter shall be our daughter. Is it not said that a daughter is but a guest in her parents’ home and that her true destiny lies with the family into which she marries? I commit that if my nephew so much as harms a hair of her head, he will answer to me for it. And he will be happy to pay the mehr, which will not be less than—fifty?—thousand rupees?—upon demand to her. If he fails to live up to this condition then w’Allahi, he will be brought to your doorstep to answer for it.”
Yaqub and Shahnaz were sold. By deciding they would ask their daughter for her permission, however, a face-saving option was thus created in case they changed their minds. They could put it down to Hinna’s lack of interest and no one would be slighted or accuse the other party of reneging on an understanding.
In the quiet of the back room, with her father present, Hinna was asked by Shahnaz and only after the briefest of pauses did she nod in agreement. As she did, she drew her dupattha further over her face in shyness at the proposal and directed her gaze downward as befitted a girl in her situation. Yaqub meanwhile, emerged triumphant with the news.
“W’Allahi, then it’s settled!” exclaimed Abdul Latif, jubilantly exchanging glances with Ejaz. “And my warmest mubarak to you and your family! We will, of course, need to go on today, but we’ll be back inshaAllah and with a full baraat when you’re ready for us. We’ll also send a ring as soon as we’ve given the good news to Ejaz’s mother and obtained her consent.”
This was satisfactory to Yaqub, who was delighted at having landed a match for his daughter and with such honorable people, as far as he could judge.
Beaming, Abdul Latif emerged from the house with Ejaz, and as soon as they were outside enveloped him in a loving embrace as he broke the news to the rest of his party. Once free from the bear hug, Ejaz himself was overcome with bliss while the others looked on in amusement and heartfelt happiness. Although genuinely pleased for him, Sikander couldn’t help reflecting upon how such a scene might ever play out on his own behalf. He wondered what his wife-to-be was doing at that moment and what kind of a life she might have led up to now. But it would not be so bad, he thought, if she resembled the mystery girl of his dream.
Abruptly, his conscious reflection came to a halt. Sikander couldn’t recall the dream girl’s face. He had been so consumed by absorbing her overall beauty that nothing of his mind had remained available to retain her particular features. Still, even if he couldn’t remember what she looked like, he could at least remember the delight that night had given him.
Indeed, that starry night—with its small village of the Aka Khel, the mountains of the Khyber, and the girl of his dream—was one he’d surely remember until his dying breath.
Chapter 4
Laghar Juy
AFTER A BRIEF BUT COLORFUL celebration of the engagement, Abdul Latif directed his companions to gather their belongings, check the fastenings on their mules and cargo and prepare to leave. When they were ready, he and his men returned to Yaqub and his family. The women were already out in front of the house, unable to conceal their happiness. Ejaz and Hinna were allowed to exchange a few words with each other now that their status had been transformed, nominally at least, until Ejaz’s mother approved of the match.
Yaqub offered two villagers to escort the travelers until they were out of the vale. In light of the newly established bond, it was not an offer to refuse. Soon, with the sun still low in the sky behind them and the escorts riding out in front, Abdul Latif and his men bid salaams to Yaqub and his family and waving to their overnight hosts, proceeded northwest out of the village.
Mountains surrounded them but in the northwest corner of the plain lay a passage that, after a short climb, would allow them to reach a second, much larger plain. They were soon at the passage, and followed it around to the west and then southwest as it deposited them into the eastern end of the next plain. This was as far as the escorts could take them, and after farewell salaams, they headed back to their village.
In the new plain, to the travelers’ left was a mountain chain running first to the southwest then due west, creating a southern wall that curved gently northward. To their right a much taller set of mountains including some that were snow-capped, continued first northwest and then west, forming a northern wall curving southward. In the northern mountains rivers or streams spilling their waters onto the lowland had carved several gaps. Both mountain chains met at the far western end of this leaf-shaped plain some eight kilometers ahead of the travelers. In the middle of this flat expanse, about three kilometers from the travelers’ location, lay an isolated hill resembling an island.
Tracking southwest, Ejaz and Abdul Latif strode out at the head of the group. Ejaz was thoroughly energized by his enchantment with Hinna and the prospect of being her husband. His steps were light and he couldn’t help drawing poetic comparisons of the scene with his fiancée’s captivating beauty—comparisons made all the more easy as the vista in every direction was indeed enchanting. Along the travelers’ initial southwesterly track, the mountains to their left, shaded from the low morning sun, formed a gray-green wall casting long shadows onto the plain. For as long as possible, Abdul Latif kept his troop close to the southern wall walking in the mountain shadows, making themselves both less visible and cooler.
Their way out of this plain was to be through the
northern mountains. The planned route required them to take one of its gaps about halfway along the length of the chain. That gap would lead them toward Chenar across the border. However, given the excellent weather, Abdul Latif decided to bypass Chenar and commit to a direct path to Showlghar. Although a higher climb would be involved, it would shorten their journey by no less than ten kilometers. This would require them to take another gap farther west along the northern chain than the one for Chenar. After about an hour of hugging the southern wall, Abdul Latif led his men diagonally northwest across the plain toward the Showlghar passage.
Behind Abdul Latif and Ejaz were Saleem and Abdul Rahman, walking in the usual formation of mules on the outside and travelers on the inside. Abdul Majeed and Sikander brought up the rear.
Abdul Majeed was less than twenty years old, Sikander guessed. Exact ages were not especially important to village-dwelling Afghans, so even Abdul Majeed himself had only a rough idea. Although quiet, he seemed to Sikander a more intense individual than either of his cousins or his older brother. His dark beard was almost as long as Abdul Latif’s, and his eyes were brown and narrow. He was a striking young man and most people would consider him handsome.
Over his gray qamees and shalwar Abdul Majeed wore a black sleeveless jacket always left unbuttoned. On his head was a black turban. A tall hundred and eighty centimeters, he carried himself in a dignified manner without seeming arrogant.
“What about you, Abdul Majeed? When do you think you’ll be married?” Sikander inquired half-jokingly. On the heels of Ejaz’s provisional engagement, the subject of marriage had been foremost on the travelers’ lips.
“Allahu a’alam,” declared Abdul Majeed with his brightly miswaaked grin and a shrug inherited from his father.
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