The shopkeeper’s son came out of the shop and escorted her to the gurdwara. Major Virk watched her walk away at a brisk pace as if she had an appointment with the lord. The young lieutenant came and stood next to the major. Virk placed his hand on his shoulders and said, ‘She’s deeply shattered, so much that it’s going to be an acid test even for her God. She thinks that by merely bowing inside the gurdwara her problems would be solved. She doesn’t understand how the politics of religion have wrecked her life. I pray that her wishes come true, but I’m worried that things might not be as easy . . .’

The young officer nodded in agreement. ‘Ameen,’ he said, his eyes shut momentarily in prayer.

A little while later, Bibi returned to where they were standing, followed by the little boy, Kumar. She was visibly calmer. Perhaps she did get to meet her God after all, wondered the major. Bibi thanked the shopkeeper and gently patted the boy on his head. And then, turning towards Major Virk, she said, ‘I would like to stay in this village. Can we look at the available houses?’

Virk smiled in return, nodded gently and said to himself, It’s so important to have faith. Why am I not surprised?

The adjutant, Lieutenant Pankaj Bhardwaj, took the lead and escorted Bibi to one of the first shortlisted houses close to the market. Its ground floor was occupied by an aged couple—Allah Rakha and his wife Begum Shahida—who had been told about the visit. The couple was working in their kitchen garden, and seeing Virk and his team heading towards them, they stepped forward and greeted the visitors. Virk bowed in return with folded hands. After exchanging pleasantries, Virk said, ‘Khan Sahib, as we had discussed, this lady here would like to take a look at the first floor of the house. Please show her the place. She has been separated from her family across the border and desperately needs the support and company of noble people. I would be grateful if you could help.’