An hour later, Peer Sahib emerged from his room in the corner of the courtyard. He was a tall, wiry man with closely cropped hair. Unlike most Muslim divines, he did not grow a beard; only a scissor-trimmed stubble spread from one ear to the other. He had a thin moustache which fell below his chin on either side in the fashion of the Mongol, Genghis Khan. He wore large earrings and a necklace of amber beads the size of pigeon eggs over his black silk shirt. He was handsome in an austere sort of way—high cheek bones and sunken eyes. He had no loose flesh over his big, bony frame. Women found him compelling since he carried an air of spiritual disdain towards their sex.

He filled his brass jug from a pitcher which stood on a stool beside his door and washed his face. He gargled noisily and spat the water on the wall; then splashed more water on his head, face, and hands and held up his hands in the air to dry (the Prophet had never used a towel). He came to his congregation praising Allah in his rich, bass voice.

‘Salaam, Peer Sahib; may Allah bring plenty to you,’ exclaimed the Muslims and put offerings of a few pice each on the tomb. Shunno touched the holy man’s feet and placed something wrapped in a towel in front of him. Peer Sahib looked away. Shunno removed the towel and uncovered a silver plate with slices of coconut and five shining rupees.

Five rupees was many times more than the measly copper pice the faithful had offered. Peer Sahib saw them from a corner of his eye; but he was not one to express interest in money—particularly when it came from an infidel woman. He looked up to the sky and said: ‘May Allah be merciful to you, my daughter, and fulfil your wishes. The offerings are not for us; we have nothing to do with money. If you want to give something in the name of the Almighty, place it on the tomb of our revered ancestor, now sitting in the lap of Allah.’

Shunno did as she was told. It gave her a peculiar pleasure to have a man, young enough to be her son, call her daughter.

‘It is time for our evening prayer. Ask what you have to ask; then we must devote ourselves to the praise of our Maker.’

The women asked what they wanted, got the Peer Sahib’s blessings, and departed with their children and menfolk. Shunno waited until the last one had left; her troubles could not be mentioned in public.

‘Daughter, what is it you desire?’

‘You are a Man of God who can remove all affliction.’

‘Allah is the remover of ills; we are only his slaves. What ails you, my child?’

Shunno only shifted her weight from one leg to another.