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Authors: Timeri N. Murari

BOOK: The Taliban Cricket Club
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The Dead End

J
AHAN TRUDGED UPSTAIRS TO WAIT FOR MOURNERS
to pay their respects. I knew death was draining, it stole a part of the living to take into the next world as memory, and we needed to mourn Mother alone, but that would have to wait.

I was exhausted by the end of the day. I broke into tears each time I thought of my mother, trying to make believe she had just gone to visit a friend and would return home soon. Now I waited for Veer's money to save me.

I returned to the room and lay down. I started to fall asleep, praying to escape the pain that pursued me with the same lethal zeal as Wahidi. I had forgotten him until his name and image detonated through the grinding plates of grieving to surface in my consciousness. I paused in my sad flight, a bird struck by a catapult's stone, tumbling down to the earth. And then as my vision grew darker, Mother appeared, smiling and opening her arms. I slipped into those arms and Mother rose, carrying me into a blue sky. We were laughing as we flew . . .

“Rukhsana,” Jahan called from a distance, and I sat up.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly five. Noorzia wants to see you.”

“Are you sure it's her?”

“Of course. I recognize her voice.” He waited patiently for my decision.

Should I see her? Why had she come? I wanted to feel her invigorating presence that had filled me with defiance before. “She can't see me in this room. We'll meet in the corridor.”

I followed him out, closing both the doors, and waited for her. She swept down the stairs with such elegance, despite the burka. I knew that only she could move with such confidence.

“My Babur,” she said, removing the garment to reveal her stylish self beneath it. Designer jeans, a silk blouse, perfumed, touching her hair back into place. She brought her own light into this gloomy hallway, and when she opened her arms, I went into them.

“I did not know about your mother. I am so sorry.”

“It was a release from her suffering,” I managed to say.

She drew back and caressed my beard. “It's kept its shape.”

“It's my lifesaver.”

“I came to say good-bye. I am leaving tonight and couldn't go without seeing you.”

“You have your ticket and papers?” I said, suppressing my envy.

“Yes.” She laughed, and then stopped. “I couldn't find Juniad to take me. No one knows where he is, and I have to leave.”

“Jahan tried to find him too. So how will you go?”

“Remember? I told you about my uncle. He has an old car and he's said he'll drive me. He knows the passes well. He will take me to Karachi and from there I'll fly to Colombo and then to Melbourne. I'll be married there. Now, what about you?”

I told her everything that had happened until the moment she came in and she listened gravely.

“You have nothing to keep you here now. Go, go quickly to Veer.” She stopped and clapped her hands. “I know. You come with me right now. Be my Babur and I'll have two
mahrams
.”

Her excitement was contagious and I didn't hesitate a moment. “I can perform Maadar's third-day ceremony in a mosque in another country.” I hesitated, the practical raising its objections. “But I don't have enough money yet.”

“I have enough for food for us on the journey and we can share a hotel room in Karachi. But I can't loan you any.”

“By then the money will be here and Jahan can bring it when they win the match.” I sobered from the intoxicating feelings. “
If
they win. I told you Qubad can't play, and he was a big hitter for us. Now they have to find just another body to make up the eleven.”

“So? If they lose, Jahan can use the money to join you.”

“You're right. The others will be bitterly disappointed though.”

She grabbed my hand. “Come on, we mustn't waste time. The police car in the road will think of you as just another male mourner leaving the house.” She put on her burka. “Oh, to see the world without blinkers.”

We hurried to the stairs. I needed my passport, which was in Father's study, and I wanted to say good-bye to Jahan, Dr. Hanifa, and Abdul. My life was reduced to these essentials. I would call Veer from Karachi and tell him that I was on my way.

We were halfway up, giggling like schoolgirls, when we met Jahan coming down.

“At least someone sounds happy.” He managed a smile through his mourning and looked down at me. “Veer's waiting to see you.”

No Greater Love . . .

“V
EER
!” M
Y HAND FLEW TO COVER MY MOUTH TO
hide both the panic and the smile fighting to shape my lips. “Oh god, I didn't expect him. He's Nargis's brother and—”

Noorzia breathed his name as I did, “Veer.”

“I know who he is,” Jahan said.

“What do you know?”

“Mother told me.” And when he saw the surprise in my face, he smiled. “Everything. You're not the only one who talked to her and held her hand. We talked. She told me he had phoned and spoken to you. Why didn't you tell me all this?”

“Because . . . because I was afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Yes.”

He frowned, puzzling over the remark. “I was angry when Mother told me, but only because you hadn't,” he admitted. “I promised her I would look after you, and I'll keep that promise. Why didn't you trust me?”

“I do, but sometimes men are difficult to understand, and I wasn't sure. Your mind was set on my marriage to Shaheen.”

“I thought that was what you wanted.”

“No. That's what the family wanted.”

“I will never understand you.” He smiled. “You better see him . . .”

Noorzia pushed past Jahan, taking his hand as she went up. “You two are the only ones left in this family and you mustn't squabble. Obey each other's wishes.” She laughed. “Now, I have to meet Veer, I can't leave without doing that.”

“I can't like this . . .” I looked down at my crumpled
shalwar,
touched my bearded face, and sniffed my body. I hadn't bathed, only washed quickly, as I was afraid I'd be trapped in the bathroom. “Give me five minutes . . .”

“No five minutes,” Noorzia said. “You can't beautify yourself into Rukhsana, and I don't have the time. Where is he?”

“In the
mardaana
.”

“May I enter?”

She didn't wait for an answer and crossed the hall. I followed quickly, now pushing Jahan aside. My Veer was here. I was a step behind Noorzia and saw a bearded man, wearing a black turban, a white, crumpled, dusty
shalwar
, and an equally rumpled coat.

He came to his feet lightly, moving toward Noorzia's covered shape. “Rukhsana . . .”

Noorzia's laughter stopped him. It wasn't my laugh. “I'm not Rukhsana, and now I wish I was. She's the youth behind me.”

I was still at the doorway, watching him, devouring him, and felt an overwhelming need to be held and protected by him. I didn't know what to say except that I loved him.

“Rukhsana?” He stepped around Noorzia, ignoring Jahan, to stop a foot before me.

He held out his arms to embrace me, and I wanted to run into them and have him hold me. Then our laughter was stifled as we remembered Mother. Instead of embracing me, Veer placed his palms together in the Hindu act of obeisance, and bowed his head. “I am very saddened, Rukhsana. Please accept my deepest condolences. I wish I could have met her.”

“So do I.” I took a step closer to him and placed my palms on either side of his. Just the touch was exhilarating.

He looked up and saw my eyes and the shape of my mouth emerge from out of the shadows and the beard. “I've waited so long to see you, and you've grown a beard since I saw you last.” He had the same smile I remembered. “I'll take you even with that beard.”

“And so have you . . .” We both reached to touch the hair on each other's faces. “If you tug mine, it will come off.”

“Then I will.”

“No, you can't, not yet.” But I did tug on his.

“It's my own. I hadn't shaved for a month and was going to when we talked. The beard is mandatory here, so I kept it.”

I remembered my letter and slowly ran my finger from his brow to the tip of his nose, meaning to land it on his lips for a kiss.

Noorzia coughed gently and broke our aura. “I have to go.”

I stepped back, having forgotten her. “I'll come to the door . . .”

“And no further now.” She embraced me tightly and whispered, “Go with him.”

“I will. You will keep in touch? Where will I find you?”

She opened her purse and took out a scrap of paper. “That's my friend's address and phone number in Melbourne.”


Khoda haafez,
” we said to each other and she hurried out with Jahan.

I forgot her again the next moment as Veer kissed me, gently, the second we were alone. Just the soft brush of his mouth and I pressed against him, having waited so long in my dreary solitude.

“I'll get tea,” Jahan called out.

We remained in an embrace, both afraid to let go in case we would never find each other again. We both thought the same thing:
I love you, I love you.

I pulled away to whisper the words and then had to tell him, “Veer, Veer, I don't believe you're here, holding me, but you shouldn't have come. It's dangerous if they find you here.”

“I had to deliver my letter,” he said and pulled out a creased envelope. “The one I was writing and meant to post if I could find a postbox in the Amazon.” Out of another pocket he pulled a roll of dollar bills. “Your beard's driving me crazy, and that turban . . .” He swept it off my head and looked astonished. “I loved touching your hair, brushing it off your face . . .” He ran his hand over the cropped hair and opened it to the air.

“Noorzia,” I said and took off his turban, his hair falling over his brow. “At least yours is still there.” I brushed it back and kissed him. “Tell me what you wrote.”

“That I love you . . . that I'll do whatever it takes to be with you . . . that there are nights I dream you're beside me . . .”

“I dream too . . . we're close and touching . . .” I touched his face. “We're not dreaming, are we? I'm not going to wake up and find myself in that dark room . . .”

“No, we're not. Even if we are, we're in the same dream and we'll wake together.”

“How's Nargis?” I remembered to ask.

“She sends her love and her prayers for us.”

We parted only when we heard Jahan pushing on the door. Veer led me to sit beside him on the divan, his hold tight on my hand in case I flew out the window. I drank the tea greedily, my throat parched from the fear an hour back and now with the love that swelled my tongue.

“How did you get here?” Jahan sat opposite, noticing our clutched fingers.

“I flew into Karachi. I still had a month left on my visa, and then I had my mujahedeen friend pick me up. He knows the passes through the mountains that only birds can see. And here I am.” He leaned against the bolster. “Now tell me everything.”

We took turns in our telling. He listened intently, turning from one to the other as we told our tale. When we fell silent, he sat up.

“We leave now, this moment.” He started to stand in his hurry to get me out, pulling on me. “Jahan, I'll take her to Delhi, but before that I need to ask your permission, as her
mahram,
to marry your sister, Rukhsana.”

“I give it,” Jahan said and smiled. “But there is one condition.”

“What's that?”

We both stopped, half risen, and I saw a calculating look in my brother's eyes that I'd not seen before.

“You're a good cricketer?” Jahan said quietly.

“I played a lot once, and I was good, but it's a long . . .” Veer stood up straight. “I know what you're going to ask. The answer is no. We have to get her out.”

Jahan ignored him. “You must play for us. It's the only chance the team has of winning the matches and leaving.”

“You come with us too. We'll cross the border in four . . . five hours.”

“No,” Jahan said firmly. “I cannot abandon my cousins, my family, for my own safety. It is against my honor.”

Veer looked at me. “Honor! Is he crazy? He wants me to play in a match while you're being hunted by this Talib who wants to marry you?”

“Veer,” Jahan added with such finality. “If you won't play, I will not give my permission.”

“We'll marry without that.”

Jahan glanced at me and then back to Veer. “Look at her face.”

I knew what was in my eyes. Jahan was the only one of my family left and I would not marry Veer without my brother beside me on the wedding day. He would never forgive me and would never speak to me again if I went against his wishes. Losing my brother would throw a dark shadow over my love for Veer.

“Rukhsana . . .”

“I can't,” I whispered.

“Veer, you are going to become part of my family.” Jahan was the only calm one in the room. “If you marry Rukhsana. Here, family is all important, and if you want to belong you must play.”

“This is blackmail,” Veer said, still angry.

“No, this is Afghanistan,” Jahan replied.

Veer sat down, looking from one of us to the other, puzzled, struggling to understand. He nodded his head. “I'll play.”

“Then we'll win our matches.” Jahan lost his solemnity and was a boy again, excited by his success.

“Listen, Jahan, there's no guarantee that just because I play you'll win the matches. Cricket is a very unpredictable game and I've played it many more times than either of you. One day you win, the next day something goes wrong and you lose. A catch is dropped, a batsman run out, a bowler is on a lucky streak.”

“But with you, they have a better chance to win than without you. And you're playing for me too.”

“Two blackmailers,” he growled. “What kind of family am I marrying into?”

“One you'll love,” I said and squeezed his hand.

“You told me there's a good fast bowler on their side,” Veer said, coming to grips with his commitment. “How good? Young?”

“Both. I think he can bat well too.”

Veer groaned. “Young, good, and I haven't touched a bat for years.”

“But you never forget.”

“Then, this being Afghanistan, can this Droon, Wahidi, fix the match? Cricket, like any other sport, is open to that.”

“There'll be the International Cricket Council man watching the matches.”

“Ah, to have such faith as you have in an Englishman,” Veer said cynically and then focused his attention on Jahan. “Okay, here's the deal and I want to make sure you understand. I play and, win or lose, you give your permission to marry?”

“Yes, on my word.”

“When you win, your team is sent to Pakistan and I will take Rukhsana with me and cross the border. And if you lose the first match, we leave Saturday night?”

“Yes. But we won't lose against the other team.”

“Let's say you do.” Veer was not to be distracted. “We leave, then what do you and the team do?”

“Jahan will come with us, of course,” I said.

“No.”

“Jahan, listen to Veer and me now.”

“I can't leave just by myself. If we lose, the team must go with you. You have a car and a driver.”

Veer hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Why not take the whole stadium? It's only an old Jeep—it won't seat twelve people. It can take another three or four, but not more without cracking an axle on those high-pass dirt tracks.” Veer paused, looking at Jahan. “If you all want to leave, why play in these matches? We can go now. I brought the money and we can hire a minibus. I'll check with my driver, Youseff. He must know someone who'll make that run.”

“We thought we had a smuggler, Juniad, but he's disappeared,” I said and then had a scary thought. “They must have followed Jahan to Juniad and arrested him.”

“I thought so too but didn't want to frighten you. You saw the police car outside, they will follow me when I leave. You and Babur can leave, as they'll think you're two mourners. But if I leave too, they'll believe I could lead them to Rukhsana. Mother's not here anymore and I'm the only way they have to find you.”

“They'll follow you to the matches . . .”

“Yes,” he said, waiting for Veer to continue.

“. . . and if your team wins . . .” Veer looked to me too. “They won't let you on that flight on Sunday.”

“I'll come home,” he said quietly and simply. “And if we lose, take Rukhsana and my cousins out.”

“Jahan, you can't do that,” I said, my voice cracking in horror. “I won't let you.”

“What's the alternative?” he asked gently. “You marry Wahidi? I won't give permission, and neither did Mother. You're my sister and I must get you out. You will marry Veer.” He tried to smile. “And I'll be there for it. When you're safe in Delhi, you will send the money for me.”

I saw Veer struggling to understand the implications of what we had said. He was more familiar with the noble savagery of tigers and cheetahs than the cruelty of men.

“And will they put a bullet in your head?” Veer asked quietly.

“Droon will send Jahan to Pul-e-Charkhi,” I said, and even Veer winced at that name.

“They won't,” Jahan said with what he thought was confidence. “Wahidi wouldn't allow that to happen to family.”

“Jahan, you know who you are dealing with,” I cried out. “They won't blink an eye. I can't let you do this.”

“We must take you too,” Veer said.

“You can't.” Jahan was determined now. “I'm the one they're watching.” He saw the tears in my eyes. “I'm a good liar, and they have to sleep sometime. I'll slip out and hide here or even in Mazar and let you know where I am.” He rose. “I think you should leave. We'll meet tomorrow at the stadium. Babur will be there too.”

“I should stay here,” I said in panic. “I can't be seen in public as Babur.”

“I can't leave you alone in the house,” Jahan said. “They could come again, even bomb the house in revenge. At least with the team around you, you'll be safe and you'll be the twelfth man.”

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