Page 319 - Leadership in the Indian Army

perfectly still and looked at Tariq until her chest screamed for air and her

eyes burned to blink. And, somehow, miraculously, after she took a
breath, closed and opened her eyes, he was still standing there. Tariq

was still standing there.

Laila allowed herself to take a step toward him. Then another. And

another. And then she was running.

43.
Madam
Upstairs, in Mariam's room, Zalmai was wound up. He bounced his new

rubber basketball around for a while, on the floor, against the walls.

Mariam asked him not to, but he knew that she had no authority to exert

over him and so he went on bouncing his ball, his eyes holding hers
defiantly. For a while, they pushed his toy car, an ambulance with bold

red lettering on the sides, sending it back and forth between them across

the room.

Earlier, when they had met Tariq at the door, Zalmai had clutched the

basketball close to his chest and stuck a thumb in his mouth-something

he didn't do anymore except when he was apprehensive. He had eyed
Tariq with suspicion.

"Who is that man?" he said now. "I don't like him."

Mariam was going to explain, say something about him and Laila

growing up together, but Zalmai cut her off and said to turn the

ambulance around, so the front grille faced him, and, when she did, he
said he wanted his basketball again.

"Where is it?" he said. "Where is the ball Baba jan got me? Where is it?

I want it! I want it!" his voice rising and