Page 46 - And the Mountains Echoed (novel)

each other, and in Saboor’s hand Parwana saw the notebook. Her notebook.

I found it in the house, Masooma said later. Was it yours? I’ll pay you back
for it somehow, I promise. You don’t mind, do you? I just thought it was perfect
for him. For his stories. Did you see the look on him? Did you, Parwana?
Parwana said no, she didn’t mind, but inside she was crumpling. Over and
over she pictured how her sister and Saboor had smiled at each other, the look
they shared between them. Parwana might as well have winked out into thin air
like a genie from one of Saboor’s stories, so unaware had they been of her
presence. It cut her to the bone. That night, on her cot, she cried very quietly.
By the time she and her sister were eleven, Parwana had developed a

precocious understanding of the strange behavior of boys around girls they
privately liked. She saw this especially as she and Masooma walked home from
school. School was really the back room of the village mosque where, in
addition to teaching Koran recitation, Mullah Shekib had taught every child in
the village to read and write, to memorize poetry. Shadbagh was fortunate to
have such a wise man for a malik, the girls’ father told them. On the way home
from these lessons, the twins often came across a group of boys sitting on a wall.
As the girls passed, the boys sometimes heckled, sometimes threw pebbles.
Parwana usually shouted back and answered their pebbles with rocks, while
Masooma always pulled her elbow and told her in a sensible voice to walk
faster, to not let them anger her. But she misunderstood. Parwana was angry not
because they threw pebbles but because they threw them only at Masooma.

Parwana knew: They made a show of the ribbing, and the bigger the show, the
deeper their desire. She noticed the way their eyes ricocheted off her and trained
themselves on Masooma, forlorn with wonder, helpless to pull away. She knew
that behind their crass jokes and lascivious grins, they were terrified of
Masooma.
Then, one day, one of them hurled not a pebble but a rock. It rolled to the
sisters’ feet. When Masooma picked it up, the boys snickered and elbowed one
another. An elastic band held a sheet of paper wrapped around the rock. When
they were at a safe distance, Masooma unrolled it. They both read the note.

I swear, since seeing Your face,

the whole world is fraud and fantasy.
The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf or blossom.

The distracted birds can’t distinguish the birdseed from the snare.