Page 166 - Leadership in the Indian Army

beans and dried dill, kofia, steaming hot maniu drenched with fresh

yogurt and topped with mint.

"You're plucking your eyebrows," Mammy said, as she was opening a

large burlap sack of rice by the kitchen counter.

"Only a little."

Mammy poured rice from the sack into a large black pot of water. She
rolled up her sleeves and began stirring.

"How is Tariq?"

"His father's been ill," Laila said "How old is he now anyway?"

"I don't know. Sixties, I guess."

"I meant Tariq."

"Oh. Sixteen."

"He's a nice boy. Don't you think?"

Laila shrugged.

"Not really a boy anymore, though, is he? Sixteen. Almost a man. Don't

you think?"

"What are you getting at, Mammy?"

"Nothing," Mammy said, smiling innocently. "Nothing. It's just that

you…Ah, nothing. I'd better not say anyway."