Page 65 - And the Mountains Echoed (novel)

no more lest she grow suspicious—and thereby extend my time with her. I drove

with both hands clenching the wheel, and my eyes firmly on the road. I exercised
rigid self-control and did not look at her in the rearview mirror, doing so only if
she addressed me. I contented myself with the mere fact of her presence in the
backseat, with breathing in her many scents—expensive soap, lotion, perfume,
chewing gum, cigarette smoke. That, most days, was sufficient to lend wings to
my spirits.
It was in the car that we had our first conversation. Our first real
conversation, that is, discounting myriad times she had asked me to fetch this or
carry that. I was taking her to a pharmacy to pick up medicine, and she said,
“What is it like, Nabi, your village? What is it called again?”
“Shadbagh, Bibi Sahib.”

“Shadbagh, yes. What is it like? Tell me.”
“There isn’t much to say, Bibi Sahib. It is a village like any other.”
“Oh, surely there is some distinguishing thing.”

I stayed calm in my appearance, but I was frantic inside, desperate to retrieve
something, some clever oddity, that might be of interest to her, that might amuse
her. It was no use. What could a man like me, a villager, a small man with a
small life, possibly have to say that would capture the fancy of a woman like
her?
“The grapes are excellent,” I said, and no sooner had I uttered the words than
I wished to slap my own face. Grapes?
“Are they,” she said flatly.

“Very sweet indeed.”
“Ah.”
I was dying a thousand deaths inside. I felt moisture beginning to form under
my arms.
“There is one particular grape,” I said from a suddenly dry mouth. “They say

it grows only in Shadbagh. It is very brittle, you see, very fragile. If you try to
grow it in any other place, even the next village over, it will wither and die. It
will perish. It dies of sadness, people in Shadbagh say, but, of course, that is not
true. It’s a matter of soil and water. But that is what they say, Bibi Sahib.
Sadness.”
“That’s really lovely, Nabi.”
I chanced a quick glance at the rearview mirror and saw that she was looking
out her window, but I also found, to my great relief, the corners of her mouth
curled up just so, in a shadow of a smile. Heartened now, I heard myself say,