A Curse on Dostoevsky

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RASSOUL DRAGS himself outside, with no particular destination in mind and indifferent to the chaos of the city. He has no desire to return to Sophia’s house, or to visit his aunt in search of Razmodin—who must be in Mazar anyway, with Donia. He walks toward the Ministry of Information and Culture. From behind a barricade someone shouts: “Watch out, khar-koss!”

Rassoul heads for the voice. A man grabs him and pulls him to safety, scolding: “You fucking idiot! If you’ve had enough of this life, go and die somewhere else; we don’t have time to dispose of your body. Where the hell are you going?” It is Jano’s friend, the one who beat him up in his room. “If you’re looking for Commandant Parwaiz, he’s not here. He’s gone to look for Jano, who’s disappeared.”

Jano disappeared? He must have fled. He must have had enough of the war.

Rassoul stands up and moves away from the barricade. He wanders through the shouting, the shooting, the tanks… and nothing hits him. He makes it to Zarnegar Park. Smoke hangs amid the trees. He stretches out on the grass in a corner of the park. He smokes, nonchalantly adding his cigarette smoke to that of the gunfire. He closes his eyes and lies there for a good long while. Gradually the noise fades into a prolonged and profound silence.

Suddenly, there is the sound of footsteps approaching, skimming his head, gently penetrating his lifeless state. He opens his eyes. A woman draped in a sky-blue chador is passing right by him. At the sight of her he sits up.

Sophia.

He gets to his feet and begins hesitantly to follow her.

When the woman notices she is being shadowed she slows down, stops, and turns fearfully toward Rassoul. She moves aside to let him pass. But he stops walking too. Disconcerted, she sets off again.

Leave her alone, Rassoul. It isn’t Sophia.

But who is it, then?

Just a woman, one of so many.

But what is she doing here? Why has she come to the park, especially now, when everyone is running to safety?

Like you, she is taking refuge in the park, protecting herself among the trees.

No, she has come to see me. I’m sure of it.

The woman reaches the edge of the park and takes the main road toward Malekazghar junction.

Rassoul speeds up, overtakes her and bars her way.

She stops, afraid. She looks around wildly but there’s no one in sight. Increasingly terrified, she edges past Rassoul to continue silently on her way. Rassoul follows her. Now that she is close, he tries to see if she’s the same size as Sophia. No. What about Nana Alia’s daughter? Hard to tell. So why are you following her?

I don’t know. It’s strange that she came here. She must be looking for someone.

But not you!

Who knows?

They reach the junction. She crosses it quickly.

Look at her. Is she behaving like someone who has come to find you? It seems more as if she’s running away.

Disappointed, he gives up the chase and lights a cigarette.

But once she reaches the other side of the junction, the woman stops and turns to look at Rassoul.

She’s playing with me. She is expecting me to follow her.

And he sets off to catch her up. She rushes away again.

“Stop!”

Rassoul stops.

Where did that voice come from?

From you!

“Stop!”—yes, it came out of my mouth!

He cries: “Stop!” It is definitely his voice, fragile, damaged, muffled, but audible. “Stop!” He breaks into a run. The woman runs too. “Stop!” He catches her up, breathless. “Stop! I… I’ve got my voice back!” He tries to make out the woman’s face through the grille of her chador. “I can speak!” He moves a step closer. “I want to speak to you.” She is listening. He searches for the right words.

“Who are you?” She says nothing. “Who sent you?”

His hand, more shaky even than his voice, reaches out to lift her veil. The woman steps back, frightened. “Whoever you are, you must know me. You came to find me. You came to make me speak. Didn’t you?” The woman looks away. “In my dream, it was you who brought me my Adam’s apple.” He touches her. She shivers, and backs away.

“I know you. I was looking for you. You’re the woman in the sky-blue chador. I recognized your walk. It was you who saw Nana Alia’s body, and made it disappear. You left with her jewelry box and her money. You did a good job. You are shrewd, and clever. Well done!” She starts to cross the street, on to the other pavement. “You need to know something: I could have killed you, as well, but I chose not to. You owe me your life, did you know that?” She totters—from fear, or exhaustion—steadies herself, and rushes off. “Listen to me! Wait a minute. I’ve so much to say to you.” She steps off the pavement and stands in the middle of the road, hoping to see something arrive—a car, a tank—but there is nothing. Nobody. Rassoul is chasing after her.

“Don’t run away. I won’t hurt you. I couldn’t.” He grabs at her chador, which slips between his fingers. “You can’t run away from me anymore. It’s over. We have found each other. We share a life, a destiny. We are the same. The two of us have dirtied our hands with the same crime. I killed; you stole. I’m a murderer; you’re a traitor…” The woman stops, turns around to stare at him, and rushes off again. Surprised by this unexpected pause, Rassoul continues more calmly: “And yet this crime that we share weighs on my conscience only. It’s not fair that I’m the only one to suffer. I who committed the murder in order to free my fiancée from that whore, and use her money to save both our families. If only I had the money and the jewels; instead, I’m haunted by remorse. Help me! Only you can help me. We could join forces, keep this secret until the end of our days, and be happy.” The woman slows down once more—thinking, deliberating, or just resting—and then continues on her way toward Kabul Wellayat, the governor’s office. “Tell me what you’ve done with the jewels and the money. They belong to me. I must have them. They would ensure the happiness of two families—or even three, if we include yours. Who cares if they arrest me, who cares if they hang me; at least I will be relieved of my crime. I will be finished with all this suffering.” The woman, still silent, walks along the outside of the Kabul Wellayat. Rassoul dares go no further. He stares at the woman. “Take me with you, or I will tell the police at the governor’s office. Do you hear me, you deaf, dumb creature?” Still silence. “At least tell me who you are. Tell me if my crime has made you happy.” The woman reaches the gate of the Wellayat, stops, and turns toward Rassoul as if to invite him inside. He sidles hesitantly along the wall. “No, you can’t be happy without me. You need me, like I need you. We are like Adam and Eve. Two sides of the same coin. Both of us driven out to live on this cursed earth. We can’t live without each other. We are condemned to share our crime, and our punishment. We will create a family. Travel far, far away, to the remotest of valleys. We will build a city that we will call… the ‘Valley of Lost Sins.’ We will invent our own laws, our own morality. And we will have children—not like Cain and Abel, or else I will kill Cain. Yes, I will kill him because I know his potential. I will kill him the moment he is born!” The woman opens the gate and, after a final glance at Rassoul, enters the courtyard. He stands there astounded. He looks around; the street is still deserted; the silence is deeper than ever; the sky, low and heavy. He walks right up to the gate of the Wellayat. Through the grill, he can see only the ruins, and no trace of the woman.

Who was she?