Midnight Sun

DEDICATION

To my wife

and

my sons

without whom

there is no story

Southwestern
Punjab,
Pakistan

November
4th

“
Ali
aga, how
long
will
the
meeting
be
today?
”
Kharzai
fidgeted
as
he
spoke,
looking
out
the
window
at
the
dusty
landscape
that
passed
them
by.

Ali
turned
in
the
front
passenger
seat
and
glared
at
Kharzai
over
the
top
edge
of
his
mirrored
sunglasses.

“
Al
Gul,
your
wedding
plans
will
be
as
scheduled.
”
Ali
used
the
cover
name
Kharzai
was
known
by
among
the
Taliban
and
allied
organizations.
“
The
old
man
made
that
very
clear.
”

“
How
did
you
know
that
’
s
what
I
was
thinking?
”

“
Because
that girl
is
the
only
thing
you
have
been
talking
about
for
a
week.
”

“
I
’
ve
talked
about
more
than
Leila
this
week.
”

“
No.
”
Ali
shook
his
head.
“N
o,
you
have
not.
”

“
I
did
too.
”
Kharzai
looked
indignant.
“
I
told
you
we
needed
to
resupply
the
ammo
cache
at
Bahawalpur.
”

“
That
was
business.
I
mean,
other
than
business,
you
have
not
brought
up
any
other
subject
but
this
girl
you
want
so
bad.
If
you
were
so
horny,
you
should
have
just
gotten
a
prostitute.
Hell,
get
a
young
boy
to
take
around
as
your
pupil
…
at
least
you
won
’
t
have
to
worry
about
making
more
kids
that
way.
”

“
You
Arabs
are
sick."

"Arabs?
You
Persians
have
no
room
to
speak.
What's
his
name...
”
Ali
tapped
his
temple
to
draw
up
the
memory.
“
Iraj
Mirza,
the
poet,
diddling
boys
was
all
he
wrote
about.
”

“
Apparently
I
do
not
read
the
same
poets
as
you,
”
Kharzai
said.
"That
stuff
never
happened
in
my
family.
Our
fathers
made
us
iron
chastity
belts
with
razor
blades
around
our
bung
holes."

"What?"

"Yeah,
they
had
a
hole
for
us
to
let
out
waste, but
blades
around
the
rim
of
the
hole to
protect
us
from
any
wrong-way
traffic.
It
was
hell
on
the
furniture,
but
any
man
who
thought
he
could
enter
me
or
my
cousin's
back
door
would've
enjoyed
a
second
circumcision."