The Return Night

Early in the morning, Zoya zipped her bag shut and set it down by the door. Her bus to the city was supposed to leave at ten. Mahnoor watched her in silence. Saying goodbye did not feel good at all, but she was doing her best to smile about it. Then Hashir came racing in from the lane, an old newspaper in his hand and a very suspicious grin on his face.

«No buses at the bus stand!» he announced, as if he were reading the news himself. «With no electricity, the roads are in a complete mess, and the whole bus system has stopped for a day. The next bus leaves tomorrow morning.» Zoya stared at him, then burst out laughing. «So that means one more night?» Ammi nodded. «One more night,» she said. «And perhaps that is exactly right.»

Mahnoor fetched her notebook at once. She read last night's bulletin again, word for word. The first item: a baby in the lane would be given his name. The second item: there would be rain. And the third item, the one that came after a single soft bell: tonight, someone would return to this house. Underneath it, Mahnoor had written: «The bell rang. We will not stop it.» She closed the notebook and thought to herself: now there is only tonight left to wait for.

Dadi was sitting on her charpai in the courtyard. She called the children over and said quietly, «Today, keep the door open. We will not stop anyone. We will only keep the door open.» Hashir immediately flung the door wide open, as if a guest were about to walk in that very second. Zoya laughed. «A door that wide? Even the breeze will come in and sit down for tea.» Dadi smiled. «Let the breeze come in too,» she said. «That is also a good thing.»

The whole day became a day of getting the house ready. Mahnoor swept the courtyard, Hashir polished the glass of every lantern, and Zoya tidied the rooms. In the kitchen, Ammi cooked Abbu's favourite kheer and said, «I do not know why, but my heart says kheer must be made today.» Mahnoor and Zoya looked at each other and smiled. Perhaps Ammi's heart knew the same thing the radio had told them. Hashir whispered, «Ammi has her own news too. Her radio is just hidden in the kitchen.» Everybody laughed.

By afternoon, happy voices were floating over from the neighbours' house in the lane. It was the naming ceremony for their little baby. Together, everyone chose the name Hamza for him. Mahnoor drew a small tick beside the first item in her notebook. The first item had come true, exactly as the radio had said it would. «See?» said Zoya. «The radio does not lie.» Hashir puffed out his chest. «And I told you so ages ago.»

In the evening, clouds gathered and a gentle rain began to fall. After the hottest week anyone could remember, the cool drops pattering into the courtyard felt like a gift. The children ran outside, laughing, and the rain did not last long — just long enough for the smell of wet earth to drift through the whole house. Mahnoor ticked the second item in her notebook. Two items had come true. Only one remained: the bell-marked one.

After dinner, everyone sat together in the courtyard. Abbu had not come home yet. He had gone back to the grid station for one last night shift, to bring the power back by morning. The phones were dead, so no message could reach them. Ammi kept glancing at the door, then at the sky. Dadi took her hand and said, «Do not worry. Whoever is meant to return will return. The door is open.» Mahnoor's heart was beating fast. Could the one returning really be Abbu?

After eleven, a deep quiet settled over the lane. And then, suddenly, there were footsteps — slow, tired footsteps, coming closer down Lane Number Four. The door stood open. A shadow stepped inside, and in the lantern light everyone saw him: Abbu! His clothes were dusty, his face worn out with tiredness, but he was smiling. «Abbu!» all three children shouted at once. Tears came to Ammi's eyes, and Dadi raised both hands towards the sky. Abbu hugged them all and said, «The work is nearly done. By morning, the town will have its lights back. And I... I have come home.» Mahnoor wrote beside the third item in her notebook: «He returned. Abbu.» In that moment, the house felt whole again.

They were all drinking tea when the clock struck eleven fifty-eight. Suddenly a flicker ran through the whole town, as if someone far away had brushed against the switch. A bulb at the corner of the lane blinked, then glowed. Then another glimmer of light came from the other side. Mahnoor, Hashir and Zoya looked at one another. The radio sat on the shelf, silent, its battery box empty as always. Midnight was still two minutes away. The three of them stepped forward and held the radio between them. «Two minutes...» Mahnoor whispered. And in that very moment, the first bulb in the lane burst into full light.