Page 32 - Leadership in the Indian Army

Mariam sat down. She tried to make time pass by drawing an elephant
in one stroke, the way Jalil had shown her, over and over. She became

stiff from all the sitting but wouldn't lie down for fear that her dress

would wrinkle.

When the hands finally showed eleven-thirty, Mariam pocketed the

eleven pebbles and went outside. On her way to the stream, she saw

Nana sitting on a chair, in the shade, beneath the domed roof of a

weeping willow. Mariam couldn't tell whether Nana saw her or not.

At the stream, Mariam waited by the spot they had agreed on the day

before. In the sky, a few gray, cauliflower-shaped clouds drifted by. Jalil
had taught her that gray clouds got their color by being so dense that

their top parts absorbed the sunlight and cast their own shadow along the
base. That's what you see, Mariam jo, he had said, the dark in their

underbelly.

Some time passed.

Mariam went back to the kolba This time, she walked around the

west-facing periphery of the clearing so she wouldn't have to pass by

Nana. She checked the clock. It was almost one o'clock.

He's a businessman, Mariam thought. Something has come up.

She went back to the stream and waited awhile longer. Blackbirds
circled overhead, dipped into the grass somewhere. She watched a

caterpillar inching along the foot of an immature thistle.