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She was shocked.. She suddenly opened her eyes and asked what am I doing and moved her nighty down..I stopped my massage .Next day while massaging I touched again..She stopped me and asked what am I doing.. I said nothing mom.. She told to massage till thighs. Next day again I touched panty bit more.. She stopped me and scolded.. What am I doing.I was nervous and hesitantly told her that I’m very curious about women’s body so I was trying to see it..She got angry and was shocked to hear . We didn’t speak for 3-4 days.. no massage was done during this time.After that I was dull.. One day she came to me asked what’s my problem..I said I couldn’t concentrate on study.. women’s body comes to mind when I see book and all.She said leave this …I said.. I couldn’t ..If I see women’s body once I could be able to solve I said.. She thought I’m very innocent and couldn’t believe the words I’m saying. She went away from there.After few days.. She came to my room after dinner..I was sitting. Mustafa played it calmly without erupting into a fit of rage. When she flew into an unrestrained rant, he simply went to his small room and shut the door tightly. He even covered his ears. He kept away from the television, and its absence contributed to a general wave of dismay and loneliness, as though he were undergoing some panicky withdrawal. Yet after the boredom and agony of patience, the night soon came, and Mustafa prepared for the mosque.He donned his white garb and skullcap after an hour-long shower in which he prepared his greeting for the gentle Nasiba. He shaved closely. He checked himself in the mirror several times. When all was ready, he kissed his mother gently and took the cross-town bus for the mosque.He arrived without trouble. The cold annoyed him, but otherwise all was ready. He promised to confront her immediately. He crossed the icy intersection, the winds blowing through his winter’s jacket. He saw a gathering of African-Americans huddling near the vestibule..
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