Page 189 - Leadership in the Indian Army

"Let me marry you, Laila. Today. We could get married today."
He began to say more, about going to a mosque, finding a mullah, a

pair of witnesses, a quick nikka.…

But Laila was thinking of Mammy, as obstinate and uncompromising as

the Mujahideen, the air around her choked with rancor and despair, and

she was thinking of Babi, who had long surrendered, who made such a

sad, pathetic opponent to Mammy.
Sometimes… I feel like you 're all I have, Laila.

These were the circumstances of her life, the inescapable truths of it.
"I'll ask Kaka Hakim for your hand He'll give us his blessing, Laila, I

know it."

He was right. Babi would. But it would shatter him.
Tariq was still speaking, his voice hushed, then high, beseeching, then

reasoning; his face hopeful, then stricken.

"I can't," Laila said.

"Don't say that. I love you."
"I'm sorry-"
"I love you."
How long had she waited to hear those words from him? How many

times had she dreamed them uttered? There

they were, spoken at last, and the irony crushed her.

"It's my father I can't leave," Laila said "I'm all he has left. His heart

couldn't take it either."
Tariq knew this. He knew she could not wipe away the obligations of

her life any more than he could his, but it went on, his pleadings and her

rebuttals, his proposals and her apologies, his tears and hers.
In the end, Laila had to make him leave.

At the door, she made him promise to go without good-byes. She