Page 133 - Leadership in the Indian Army

thanks to God."

"Heart attack. His second," Tariq's mother said, giving her husband an

admonishing look.

Tariq's father blew smoke and winked at Laila. It struck her again that
Tariq's parents could easily pass for his grandparents. His mother hadn't

had him until she'd been well into her forties.

"How is your father, my dear?" Tariq's mother said, looking on over her
bowl-As long as Laila had known her, Tariq's mother had worn a wig. It

was turning a dull purple with age. It was pulled low on her brow today,

and Laila could see the gray hairs of her sideburns. Some days, it rode
high on her forehead. But, to Laila, Tariq's mother never looked pitiable

in it- What Laila saw was the calm, self-assured face beneath the wig,

the clever eyes, the pleasant, unhurried manners.

"He's fine," Laila said. "Still at Silo, of course. He's fine."

"And your mother?"

"Good days. Bad ones too. The same-"

"Yes," Tariq's mother said thoughtfully, lowering her spoon into the

bowl "How hard it must be, how terribly hard, for a mother to be away
from her sons."

"You're staying for lunch?" Tariq said-

"You have to," said his mother. "I'm makingshorwa"