“Hakim was always scared that we'd get caught and that my father would give him a slapping.”
“‘Your father's going to give me a slapping,’ he'd always say. He was so cautious, so serious, even then.”
“And then one day I said to him, I said, ‘Cousin, what will it be? Are you going to ask for my hand
“or are you going to make me come khasiegari to you?’ I said it just like that.”
“You should have seen the face on him!” Mammy would slap her palms together as the women, and Laila, laughed.
Listening to Mammy tell these stories, Laila knew that there had been a time when Mammy always spoke this way about Babi.
A time when her parents did not sleep in separate rooms. Laila wished she hadn't missed out on those times.
Inevitably, Mammy's proposal story led to matchmaking schemes.
When Afghanistan was free from the Soviets and the boys returned home, they would need brides,
and so, one by one, the women paraded the neighborhood girls who might or might not be suitable for Ahmad and Noor.
Laila always felt excluded when the talk turned to her brothers,
as though the women were discussing a beloved film that only she hadn't seen.
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