‘Oho! What is there to cry about then? I love you too.’

After uttering this sentence, he felt a weird languishing feeling within himself. His soul told his heart that he was lying. This was when his heart became curious about what love was. What did love mean? He immediately regained control over himself. Jamila Miss had said that those who loved each other also cared about each other, but he had only called her once after going to Mumbai. He thought that this apparent lack of communication had made Miss think that he didn’t love her. He patiently listened to all her grievances. He held his ears and apologized and promised not to repeat these mistakes in the future. Jamila Miss liked the way he held his ears. He hugged her tightly.

They chatted for a long time. Their conversation was interrupted for tea and sweets. Jamila Miss tried to persuade him to stay back for dinner, but he said that there was dinner at home with some of his relatives coming over. They stood near the window. The moon shone brightly. Both were reminded of that night when passion filled the gaps between their bodies.

‘Jamila Miss, that night was like the end of the world,’ he said, reminiscing about the past.

‘Yes, you left scratches all over me,’ she replied with a smile.

Their continuously stared at each other, and they shared the pleasure of silence for some time. Asrar finally decided to bid farewell and promised to return the next day. Jamila Miss escorted him to the door.

He went to Mohammad Ali’s house the next morning. His house was fifteen minutes from Asrar’s place. Mohammad Ali had given him a parcel to deliver. He knocked at the door and was welcomed by a beautiful woman in her mid-forties. She said, ‘Mohammad Ali had informed me over the phone that you would come.’ He entered the house. No sooner had he taken two steps than he realized that he had forgotten to take off his slippers. He felt embarrassed. He removed his slippers immediately and re-entered the room. There were a few chairs and he sat on one of them. A girl served him a glass of water. This girl was the same age as him. The woman introduced the girl, ‘She is Ali’s younger sister, Saira.’ Asrar greeted her and she reciprocated and went back to the kitchen. The beautiful woman asked many questions about Mumbai and Mohammad Ali and Asrar patiently answered. She told him that Ali’s father was at sea. The girl served tea. She told him that Ali’s father served as a khalasi on a boat. She drank tea and inquired about Asrar’s mother.