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Ramlal quickly gave me an old number that he hadn’t used in a long time. I texted my Sneha bahu with that number.“Did you enjoy last night?” I came straight to the point.Ramlal and I waited patiently for her to reply. Around 15 minutes had passed, but there was no reply from her side. I desperately looked at the mobile screen with all my hope when a message popped up.“Who are you?” The message read.“You didn’t answer my question. Did you enjoy last night?” I asked again.“Was it not evident?” My bahu asked.“It was, but I still want to hear it from you., I texted.“Yeah. I enjoyed last night. I was terrified, but still, I enjoyed it,” Sneha bahu said.“That’s why you searched for your secret fucker at lunchtime?” I wrote back.“What? You were there?” My bahu asked.“Yes. I saw you scanning all the men, wondering who had fucked you,” I texted“Please tell me, who are you?” She asked again.“I will tell you if you come to see me tonight,” I said.“No. What happened last night was a mistake. I. " With a note of pride, he added, "I'm ten minutes older." You miss?"He broke their gaze. "Yeah."Masha-il had felt an ache around her heart. Did this brother know where he was? Did he know, she found herself wondering, that Abdel-Nasser was even alive?War was a terrible thing and no one could argue that. Then again, what did she know, a twenty-year-old Hijazi girl who had left commercial secondary school two years ago, who spent her days tending sheep and would probably end up marrying a dull boy from a neighbouring village? What on Earth could she possibly know about how the world worked? Yet as despicable as war was, she felt a helpless gratitude for whatever chain of events had crossed her path with Abdel-Nasser's.She touched his forehead again. Was someone else waiting for him in Egypt—a woman sleepless with worry who had no way of knowing that he slumbered on the floor of a white-washed stone bungalow at the bottom of a valley of Tihamah, while she knelt beside him and listened.
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