The villagers gathered around
Mehboob, who always brought
the best mangoes and his
stories of Allah
and of the village

Each man and woman would
purchase enough mangoes
to hold them until Mehboob
would return

Mehboob thought he was
seventy, though others said
he was old as the hills, for
every villager remembered
Mehboob and his mangoes
from childhood, and 
his stories, and his laugh

Mehboob loved the children
most of all, and always had 
trinkets for them when 
he came to the village with 
his mangoes

Mehboob had no wife,
though many women had loved him–
Naseeba, most of all–
still, the villagers were fond of him, 
with his fruit and stories,
for he was a reminder
of the old days
when things were 
simple and good

The men and the children
would call out to Mehboob
when his cart was empty
and he began his
long journey home

Mehboob would shout blessings
to them all, and sometimes
would sing one of the old songs
until he was lost from sight–
songs that told of Allah’s Love and of
His Hand upon the people