Bibi looked up at him and noticed that something was bothering him. But before she could ask, Virk spoke up. ‘May I take a look at the balcony?’ He waited for her response. She nodded.

Virk walked to the balcony door. He unbolted it and pushed it open. A gust of fresh wind hit him in the face. He stepped out and looked down to find Allah Rakha looking up at him. Standing close by was his wife, Shahida. He waved at them and exchanged pleasantries. Virk noticed the relief on their faces. His eyes scanned the road and the steep ridge beyond. Rubbing his beard gently, he turned back to find Bibi standing with two cups of steaming kehwa.

‘Yes, that’s where Ismail fell. But how did you come to know?’

Virk accepted the cup and took a long sip. He looked at her closely with immense admiration but didn’t respond. Closing the door behind him, he walked towards the small living room and perched himself on the same chair. Bibi sat opposite him and placed her mug on the table. ‘I am extremely grateful to you for bringing me here, Sir. I couldn’t have withstood the trauma that I was carrying on my soul all by myself. This place and the beautiful people here have helped me overcome what at one point looked like an impossible past. I have been looking for an opportunity to convey my deep gratitude to you. Only I didn’t know how to reach you.’ Bibi spoke like she was delivering a well-rehearsed speech.

Virk smiled. She has matured and is able to handle her emotions well, he told himself. Bibi replenished his cup and went back into the kitchen. The sound of banging utensils told him that she was preparing a meal. That she didn’t even ask him before cooking showed that she considered him someone she had a right on. It made him feel at home.

They ate in silence. Bibi instinctively knew that Virk had been promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel, but he was not there to make a courtesy call or celebrate his promotion. There was something far more important that had made him drive all the way to Tunda, but he was taking time to open up. She did not inquire or push him to speak his mind.

Virk finished his meal and washed his hands. From his expression, she could make out that he had liked what he had eaten. Bibi brought in more kehwa, and they both filled their respective mugs. His silence was killing her. She finally decided to break the ice. ‘Where are you posted now? And how long are you going to be here? Have you made any arrangements to stay or are you heading back to the district headquarters?’ Her voice was filled with confidence, yet carried traces of concern and affection. Virk felt encouraged to speak his mind.