veil and waited; listening to his footsteps。
Black passed through the doorway and saw me; then took a few more steps
and stopped。 We stood five paces apart and beheld each other。 He looked
healthier and stronger than he’d appeared through the peephole。 There was a
silence。
“Remove your veil;” he said in a whisper。 “Please。”
“I’m married。 I’m awaiting my husband’s return。”
“Remove your veil;” he said in the same tone。 “Your husband won’t ever
e back。”
“Have you arranged to meet me here to tell me this?”
“Nay; I’ve done so to be able to see you。 I’ve been thinking of you for twelve
years。 Remove your veil; my darling; let me look at you just once。”
I removed it。 I was pleased as he silently studied my face and stared at
length into the depths of my eyes。
“Marriage and motherhood have made you even more beautiful。 And your
face has bee entirely different than what I remembered。”
“How had you remembered me?”
“With agony; because when I thought of you; I couldn’t help but think that
what I was remembering wasn’t you but a fantasy。 In our childhood; you
remember how we used to discuss Hüsrev and Shirin; who fell in love after
seeing images of each other; don’t you? Why was it that Shirin hadn’t fallen in
love with handsome Hüsrev when first she saw his picture hanging from a tree
branch but had to see that image three times before falling in love? You used
to say that in fairy tales everything happens thrice。 I would argue that love
ought to have blossomed when she first saw the picture。 But who could have
depicted Hüsrev realistically enough for her to fall in love with him; and
162
precisely enough that she would recognize him? We never talked about this。
Over these last twelve years; if I had such a realistic portrait of your matchless
face; perhaps I wouldn’t have suffered so。”
He said some quite lovely things in this vein; stories of looking at an
illustration and falling in love and of how he’d suffered desperately for me。 I
noticed the way he slowly approached; and his every word flitted through my
conscious mind and alighted somewhere in my memory。 Later; I would muse
over these words one by one。 But at the time my appreciation of the magic of
what he said was purely visceral and it bound me to him。 I felt guilty for
having caused him such pain for twelve years。 What a honey…tongued man!
What a good person this Black was! Like an innocent child! I could read all of
this from his eyes。 The fact that he loved me so much made me trust him。