‘Do you like pistachios and almonds?’ she asked. ‘They make you big and strong, you know.’

A teardrop rolled down Tarlok’s small face. Through his blurry eyes, he could almost see his Biji sitting, hand extended, telling him to have his pistachios and almonds if he wanted to grow up and be big and strong. He could hear her call after him, as he ran off to catch the school bus with Toshi, thrusting the nuts into his hand as he clambered on.

He blinked his tears away and saw that this lady was not his Biji. Rukhsana held out her arms to him.

‘I know I’m not your mother, but I would be the happiest person alive if you were to be my son.’

Rahmat Bibi’s eyes filled with grateful tears. She gently unclenched Tarlok’s fist from the folds of her shalwar and gave his hand into Rukhsana’s.

Rukhsana kissed his plump little hand and hugged the little boy. It was as if destiny had been defied and she had been given what she had been denied.

‘Habib Haider, my son, I will love you with every breath I take,’ she whispered.

Threads

London, United Kingdom

‘And that’s how I grew up as Habib Haider.’

Toshi was too overcome to say anything. It seemed to her like a latticework of fragmented memories had found a thread that bound them together, and she held on to it tightly, too scared to let go.

‘Loki, did you ever see Biji and Papaji again . . . ?’

Habib shook his head.

‘I was told that all of you had died . . . ’ he began, his voice thick with feeling, the words stuck to the back of his throat.

‘But didn’t Zulaikha Baaji tell you that Bade Papa, Badi Ma and I had gone to India?’ asked Toshi. ‘It was she and Khalid Chacha who helped us get on that train. Did you not meet them again?’

Habib shook his head again.

‘All I heard was that they had disappeared. Some people thought that they had also been killed. For helping kaafirs,’ he said quietly.

Toshi’s eyes brimmed with tears.

‘I still cannot believe that life has brought us together again, Loki. It has been over sixty years. We have so much lost time to catch up on. I can’t explain the thrill of saying your name—and knowing that you’re there. There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t regretted that day when I left you out in that gully all by yourself, Loki,’ she said, her voice breaking.

Habib looked at his sister and saw beneath her greying hair, the same ten-year-old girl neatly piling the pebbles.

‘I know,’ he said softly.

They sat there, talking about the paths their lives had taken them on, trying to fill in the gaps of six decades.

‘Where do I begin? There’s so much I want to ask,’ said Toshi.

Habib smiled, ‘My turn first. So, Jai is your grandson. Who did you marry, Toshi di? How many children do you have?’