Caution made them hold back, made them hide themselves under a tree. The scene before them was all freshness and hope. A house of worship rising. They felt the sincerity that fuelled the manual work, men toiling to build what they might not live to see, working for a necessary grandeur and elevation. Moni, Iman and Salma saw the monks come in and takes their vows, some of which they would keep and many of which they would not be able to uphold. Vows of celibacy that were not imposed on them by the Almighty, which they took on voluntarily and then fell into sin. Iman, Salma and Moni saw the years sweep over the monastery, the waning of faith bringing with it corruption and corruption further eroding faith. They saw the abuse of little boys and the unlawful accumulation of wealth. They saw worldliness encroach upon the sacred, the secular triumphing over the religious, how this life became more important than the next. They saw enthusiasm dwindling and distractions growing until the place was empty, devoid of prayers. Then the renovations began. Architects hired to restore the original features, designers to make the apartments fit the theme. The chapel becoming a swimming pool.

But not everything was swept away. There was something of the prayers left behind, a concentration of what had been the most sincere, a density. The three of them had come upon it in the refectory, Salma first, then Iman and Moni. They felt the print left by the priest who had read the prayers up at the pulpit while the monks ate their meals. Men deprived of women experienced the deepest thankfulness for the food on their plates.

‘You can see him now,’ said the Hoopoe. ‘If you go down and look through the window, you will be able to see the whole scene.’

The three held hands and ran down the hill. The sun shone down on them and afterwards, for the rest of their lives, they would remember this as one of their happiest moments. They would recall the anticipation and how young they felt, like little girls, with all their strength and flexibility, with easy joints and laughter in their throats. Iman held Salma’s hand and Salma held Moni’s hand. It started to rain, a light drizzle that sprinkled them as they moved. The water touched their heads and made them special. The hill sloped down, and they gave in to the pull of gravity, the acceleration of their steps and heartbeats. Each of them was self-conscious, aware of her restored body, how good it felt to be whole, to be upright. How good it was to have a clear mind and balance, to have a tongue that could talk and feet that could hold up her weight with ease.