Read Online A House Without Windows by Nadia Hashimi - Free Book Online Page A

face.
    What were they thinking? What did they believe about their mother?
    Her arms were empty—there was nothing to hold. Her head spun and her heart pounded.
    Rima would be hungry. Zeba wished she could have nursed her once more before she’d been taken away.
    Zeba felt her nipples sting. In her first week at Chil Mahtab, she’d stuffed her bra with balled tissues to catch the milk-tears her breasts kept leaking. Her chest had burned and ached until the milk flow dried up.
    The girls.
    Basir will take care of them. He always does.
    It was hard to think of her children and even harder not to. It was hard to block out a cell of women and their inane crimes.
    â€œYour absolute favorite Ahmad Zahir song—what is it?” Latifa asked with the seriousness of a prosecutor.
    â€œThat’s an easy one.” Nafisa laughed. She sang two lines of the song with eyes closed, her upper body swaying in rhythm. “ The taste of your lips lingers on mine, the waves of your passion make my heartbeat sublime. ”
    â€œYou shameless thing!” Latifa howled. “Mezhgan, your turn.”
    â€œI don’t really know his songs that well,” she mumbled. She was not the type of girl to answer any question the first time it was asked, believing that would make her seem too outspoken.
    â€œLiar,” Nafisa teased. “What did you do in all that time you spent with your boyfriend? He must have sung some love songs to you. How else could he have sweet-talked his way under your dress?”
    Mezhgan groaned. She was used to Nafisa’s teasing by now.
    â€œMy father used to sing those songs,” Mezhgan said. Her fatherwas a generation closer to the long-dead pop singer, a man who had set a whole country of broken hearts to song. “I guess I do remember a few of them.”
    â€œLet’s hear it,” Latifa said, clapping.
    Mezhgan’s voice was high and thin, a shallow echo against the cell walls. “If this is love that burns within, surely it must be a sin . . . elaaahi elaahahi!”
    â€œWell done, you harlot!” Nafisa cheered.
    â€œI’ve got one for both of you,” Latifa announced, clearing her throat as she launched into the verse. “Watch out, my heart, because I have fallen; a gift of heartache has come calling.”
    â€œYou’re just terrible, Latifa,” Nafisa whined. “Wait until you fall in love. You won’t be so pessimistic about it then.”
    â€œYes, every night I pray that God curses me with the same affliction you both have.”
    â€œAt least it gives us hope of getting out of here. A proper marriage and we can appeal to the judge for mercy.”
    Mezhgan felt pity for Latifa.
    â€œI’m sure there’s a way for Latifa to appeal too. You haven’t even tried. Maybe you should ask for a lawyer. Why did you refuse one anyway?”
    â€œBecause if they sent me back to my family I’d be back here in days charged with murder. I’m doing them a favor by refusing.”
    Zeba was careful not to react, and the moment passed without her cellmates turning the conversation to her.
    Love. Marriage. Freedom.
    Zeba’s mind floated between melancholy and angry thoughts, a host of colors. A soft melody drifted through the cell, filling the quiet. It was Zeba’s voice.
    â€œAlone and free of angst and sorrow
    I’ve bled enough for today and tomorrow
    Now it is time for my bud to bloom
    I’m a sparrow in love with solitude
    All my secrets contained within me
    I sing aloud—I’m alone, finally!”
    The women howled with delight to hear their cellmate’s voice lift in song. They would only realize later the distinct lack of romance in her lyrics and the peculiar mirth with which Zeba sang them.

CHAPTER 7
    ZEBA LEANED HER HEAD AGAINST THE COLD WALL, CHIPS OF paint lifting from the corners and edges. She picked at the flakes with the insouciance of someone destroying a thing already