Page 354 - Leadership in the Indian Army

"You be a good, strong boy, now," she said. "You treat your mother
well." She cupped his face. He pulled back but she held on. "I am so

sorry, Zalmai jo. Believe me that I'm so very sorry for all your pain and

sadness."

Laila held Zalmai's hand as they walked down the road together. Just

before they turned the corner, Laila looked

back and saw Mariam at the door. Mariam was wearing a white scarf
over her head, a dark blue sweater buttoned in the front, and white

cotton trousers. A crest of gray hair had fallen loose over her brow. Bars

of sunlight slashed across her face and shoulders. Mariam waved
amiably.

They turned the corner, and Laila never saw Mariam again.

47.

Madam

Back in a kolba, it seemed, after all these years.

The Walayat women's prison was a drab, square-shaped building in
Shar-e-Nau near Chicken Street. It sat in the center of a larger complex

that housed male inmates. A padlocked door separated Mariam and the

other women from the surrounding men. Mariam counted five working
cells. They were unfurnished rooms, with dirty, peeling walls, and small

windows that looked into the courtyard. The windows were barred, even

though the doors to the cells were unlocked and the women were free to
come and go to the courtyard as they pleased. The windows had no