The Last Storyteller (First Edition) | Page 51

"I gave her my five rupees." Abdullah paused. He did not meet my eyes. "What did she do?" I asked with great intensity. "Knowing that I was immature, she did everything." "So you got what you paid for." I looked at Abdullah and waited to hear what else he had to say. "I am not sure. There was an intolerable smell on her body and mouth, like the stinking smell of a dead animal. Even at that young age, I sensed that sex should be sweet and gentle, not repulsive. But that is not the worst of it. Afterwards she told me, 'Run away now'." "No love or kindness? She just told you to run away?" "Correct," Abdullah said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I looked at her dumbfounded. 'Why should I run?' I asked her." I moved closer to Abdullah. "What did she say?" "Her answer was quite upsetting for me." Abdullah moved back to the table, sat down, and examined the tablecloth closely. "She said, because now it is feeding time for your father. Your mother is pregnant, you know." "I felt as if someone had thrown a bomb on me. I ran and ran until I came to a graveyard. I fell to my knees near a saint's tombstone and wept bitterly. For many years afterward, I was sexually abnormal because I had been exposed to sex in such an insensitive manner." "A year later Fatima married Ghulami, the male Dai. His status was the same as Fatima's. A year after that, she bore Neeha. It was hard to believe such a pretty girl could come from such ugly parents." "Later, Neeha's father became another victim to the young men from the Pakistani Army. In those days there was tension on the borderline between India and Pakistan. The army would come and forcibly take poverty-stricken men away to fight against the enemy. As you know, dear writer, a poor man is unlucky by birth." Page | 51