Page 54 - Leadership in the Indian Army

wedding band, with a bruised, helpless look on his face. From inside the

cabinet, the clock ticked on and on.

"Jalil jo?" one of the women said at last.

Mil's eyes lifted slowly, met Mariam's, lingered for a moment, then
dropped. He opened his mouth, but all that came forth was a single,

pained groan.

"Say something," Mariam said.

Then Jalil did, in a thin, threadbare voice. "Goddamn it, Mariam, don't

do this to me," he said as though he was the one to whom something was
being done.

And, with that, Mariam felt the tension vanish from the room.

As JaliPs wives began a new-and more sprightly-round of reassuring,

Mariam looked down at the table. Her eyes traced the sleek shape of the

table's legs, the sinuous curves of its corners, the gleam of its reflective,
dark brown surface. She noticed that every time she breathed out, the

surface fogged, and she disappeared from her father's table.

Afsoon escorted her back to the room upstairs. When Afsoon closed the

door, Mariam heard the rattling of a key as it turned in the lock.

8.

In the morning, Mariam was given a long-sleeved, dark green dress to

wear over white cotton trousers. Afsoon gave her a green hijab and a