After buying seekh kebab, shami kebab, tilli and kheri, they headed to the bakery. They ordered naan. Some unfortunate, distressed people were begging outside the bakery. Two or three of them were sitting and eating something. Near the footpath drain, a mouse lay covered in blood. The blood that had dripped out of its mouth had dried up. Probably a car had just run over it. Its stomach had burst open and the intestines had fallen out. There were flies all over it. While buying naan, Mohammad Ali told Asrar that Moosa Bhai was happy with him. ‘He has increased your salary by two thousand.’ The increment added to Asrar’s excitement. He didn’t know what to say. He uttered, ‘Why did you hide this from me till now?’

Mohammad Ali took the bread from the shopkeeper and paid him. Then he turned towards Asrar and said, ‘You did not give me a chance. I have been hearing about your Hina since …’ A grin spread on his face before he could even finish the sentence. Asrar smiled too.

Mohammad Ali said that he was happy that the salary had been increased. That was why he was hosting a party for the boys in the kholi. ‘It’s difficult to find a friend like you,’ Asrar said emotionally.

‘Come on! Do not butter me,’ Mohammad Ali said in a carefree tone.

They returned to the kholi. Asrar was aware that an increment of Rs 2000 had happened at Mohammad Ali’s request, or else it would not have been possible. On hearing the good news, everyone shook hands with Asrar and congratulated him, then they immediately attacked the food. The party went on for quite some time.

When Hina reached home, she was surprised to see Yusuf sitting on the sofa and reading a newspaper. The happiness on her face that could be seen from the taxi to the door of the house. She wondered if Yusuf had seen her with Asrar at McDonald’s or near the sea. If that were the case, what justification would she give? She entered the house, wished her father and sat next to him. Darakhshan was making tea in the kitchen. Yusuf asked, ‘Where are you coming from?’

This question turned Hina’s face pale. Before she could answer, Darakhshan entered with a tray in her hand. In one plate there was chuda, a dish made from flattened rice, and in the other, four pieces of barfi. On seeing Hina, she asked, ‘When did you come?’