“All right, so you won’t come here tomorrow.” I fell into thought. “Why should I come here either, all by myself—”
•
Tasnim! She left me and went away. She was preparing to do an M.A. in History. She first came to me bearing a letter of recommendation, and asked my help in her preparation. She appeared regularly, sat with her notebook open, jotted down notes with great earnestness, and left. She wouldn’t by any means start any casual conversation. Not that I wanted to chat with her, anyway. She seemed a very plain, colorless girl. Why would I chat with her? But that day she appealed to me. It was morning. I had just had a bath and changed my clothes before leaving home, and she too looked shining clean. In that full bus, after making myself a place to stand among the ladies’ seats, I saw that she was standing in front of me. So close that her white neck and pink earlobes were within the reach of my breath. I found myself breathing a little faster.
When she got down from the bus, I got down too. It took me a little while to force my way through the crowd and get to the door. In this small amount of time, she vanished. Well, it didn’t matter. I thought she’d be coming to study that evening, but that evening she didn’t come. Well, tomorrow evening for sure, I consoled myself. But she didn’t come that evening either. Her not coming made me even more eager.
The next day I phoned her and, as her teacher, asked why she hadn’t come. She gave some meaningless answer, and hesitantly said, “I’ll come today.”
That day passed with the weight of a mountain, as I waited for the evening. But finally the evening came, and she too came. When she came, she sat down in silence. The concentration with which she used to ask questions and jot down notes was no longer in evidence. Today my heart wasn’t in the teaching, either. I wrapped up the lesson quickly. Then she was silent, and I was silent.
“Tasnim!” I finally opened my mouth.
In response, she lifted her eyes to me, but I didn’t know what I’d wanted to say to her. I was lost, dissolved, as though I didn’t exist at all.
Finally she rose. I too rose, confused and flustered. I escorted her to the door. As I was leaving the room I said softly, “Tasnim!”
She paused, but I was struck dumb. Then with the speed of lightning she left the room. I was left standing there.
She didn’t come again.
•
Tasnim had gone. My evening’s occupation was over. Empty inside, indifferent outside, I wander in the city. For no reason my footsteps turn toward the Shiraz. Abdul is astonished. “Zakir Sahib! Where have you been?”
“Right here. Where are the others?”
“Nobody has been coming. Shall I bring tea?”
“Yes, bring it.”
I’m sitting alone in a corner, drinking tea. Around me all the faces are new and strange. Oh, so the white-haired man still keeps coming. He’s a man of fixed principles. But where are my friends? How strange it is. In the Shiraz we were once the main group. Now we’re gone as completely as though we’d never been here at all.
Afzal suddenly enters. “Yar, where is everybody? I’ve worn myself out looking for you. I didn’t find a single mouse. I’d heard that you and Irfan had taken to sitting in the Imperial.”
“We used to.”
“Anyway, I went there with the idea that I’d find you there. Yar, that place is in terrible shape. The cabaret show was going on, the lights were out. Well, I sat down. I said to myself that when the lights came on I’d search out those mice. When I look at the floor, no Miss Dolly. A disgusting woman was dancing. The people who praised her sounded just as disgusting. When the lights came on and I looked around, it was all boorish rustic types. I cursed you both and came away.”
Afzal was telling the truth. This was the Imperial’s new style. I too had gone there one evening. When I saw how things were, I left again.
“Yar, where have the good people gone?” As he spoke, Afzal was looking all around. He muttered, “Who are these people? Where has everybody gone?”
“Zavvar has joined the Civil Service and left the city.”
“He can go jump in the lake. Tell me about the others.”
“Salamat might go off to America, he’s running around trying to get a scholarship. You can usually find him in the U.S.I.S. Ajmal has been swallowed up by his Basic Democracy job.”
“And Irfan?”
“He’s got a job with a newspaper.”
“Mouse!” Afzal grumbled, “What are you doing?”
“Love.”
“Love?” Afzal looked me over judiciously from head to foot. “Well, you’re a good man.”
“Sitting in the Shiraz chewing over literature and art and politics isn’t everything.”
Afzal listened gravely to my words. “You’re right. Love is a bigger task than that. But, fellow, to make love, a man ought to be virtuous.”
“Yar, you’re certainly virtuous yourself.”
“Yes, I’m virtuous, but I’m very much occupied here.”
“Occupied?”
“Fellow! Don’t you know how much of my time is spent in the company of birds and trees? I don’t have time for love. You make love, I’ll pray for you.”
“Yar, what good will prayer do me now? She was here, but now she’s gone away.” I heaved a long sigh.
Afzal regarded me very sympathetically, and advised me, “Fellow! Keep the door open, and stay awake.”
The door that had been closed for so long, she opened as she left. Now I couldn’t close it. The door stayed open, and I kept waiting. She didn’t come, someone else came. I ran into Anisah at a music conference. I was surprised to see her: “What, you! When did you get back from London?”
In fact, what surprised me wasn’t that she had suddenly come back from London. What surprised me was that she had come back with a new elegance. When I had seen her in the Imperial, I hadn’t been struck by her at all at the time. She had even shown a bit of interest in me, but I didn’t give her the smallest chance. How could I have? The door was closed inside me. And furthermore, at that time she wasn’t exactly eye-catching. Her figure seemed utterly flat. But now her body was full of curves, and her breasts were very apparent. Her plump, rounded arms were bare, her waist and hips swayed attractively, her full breasts seemed to quiver when she moved. With wonder and joy, I looked her over from head to foot. “Anisah! London has transformed you!”
She accepted my words as a compliment. She laughed, then said, “It’s getting on into the night — when will this conference be over?”
“Do we have to wait for it to be over?”
“No, we don’t.”
We immediately went out. When I opened the car door, she looked at me with surprise. “Why, you’ve gotten a car! That means I’m not the only one who’s changed, you’ve changed too.”
“It’s second-hand.”
“Second-hand ones run more smoothly.” She burst out laughing.
“Shouldn’t we go somewhere and have tea?”
“Of course. Why else did we leave the conference? How is the Imperial nowadays? In London I only missed one single thing here — the Imperial.”
“The Imperial has changed too. But it’s changed differently. When you see it now, you’ll be dismayed.”
“Then I certainly ought to go and see it.”
I turned the car toward the Imperial.
Now the Imperial had gone even further downhill. No cabaret, no band playing. The tables were mostly empty. Here and there a customer or two sat drinking tea, in silence. The tawny cat lay next to the manager’s chair, her eyes closed. Then she rose with a kind of lassitude. She yawned, and straightened out her body. Then, moving wearily, she passed under various empty tables until she paused by a customer eating shami kabobs and gave a meek “Meow.” But when she saw his indifference she went on. She reached the dirty, dusty dance floor, sat down in the middle of it, and closed her eyes.