Chapter Seven
by testsuphomeAdminIn the morning, after breakfast, Parvana returned to the marketplace. Following her mother’s advice, she took her father’s writing tools and a blanket in hopes of earning money like he did. The previous day’s experience had inspired her; she relished the chance to escape chores. Disguised as a boy, she felt lighter without her chador and long hair flowing freely in the fresh breeze.
Arriving at the same spot her father had previously occupied, she set up her blanket, reproducing his layout with pens, writing paper, and her fancy shalwar kameez for sale. Her mother had coached her to claim she was Kaseem, her father’s nephew, saying their father was ill. This falsehood safeguarded them from unwanted attention due to their father’s arrest.
Despite her education, doubt loomed over her ability to attract customers. The hour passed with no interaction until a Talib soldier approached her. Parvana trembled, fearing repercussions but held her composure as she confirmed her role as a letter reader. The soldier presented her with an old letter addressed to Fatima Azima, his deceased wife. Parvana read aloud the emotional correspondence, revealing deep familial ties and sorrow over lost connections.
After finishing, the Talib shared the news of his wife’s death, expressing grief while she offered to compose a response, highlighting her skill as a writer. In return for her service, he handed her some money and left, marking a surprising moment where she witnessed sorrow in someone so often perceived as cruel.
Parvana’s day continued uneasily interspersed with thoughts of this encounter. After another brief interaction that led to the successful sale of her shalwar kameez, she felt a blend of satisfaction and lingering emotions. As exhaustion overtook her, she felt a twinge of nostalgia for her father. Packing her belongings seemed like an echo of her past with him, stirring her longing for his presence.
As she journeyed home, carrying her earnings, Parvana caught a fleeting glimpse of movement from the blacked-out window nearby, leading her to wonder if her imagination was playing tricks on her. With a newfound sense of pride and accomplishment, she ran home, eager to share her experience.
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