Oh, Atharva knew all right what miracle the old bastard had waited for.
“…but his father, Mir Rehman Hussain… he was a force, Janab. He didn’t let Pakistani forces intervene in the governance of Nagar, even though Pakistan controlled the region physically. Things changed later on…”
Atharva knew all of that theory, he had studied every single detail of this region, read everything he could get his hands on, inquired about anything remotely related to the royal family of Nagar. But it was just the superficial that he had been able to scratch because unlike other royal families and communities, the Mirs of Nagar were a fiercely private and guarded lot. Their photos didn’t appear in papers, their riches and palaces and forts didn’t make it to the ‘Royals of the World’ lists, they didn’t show up at congregations of the erstwhile royals’ events. They lived inwardly, holding a part of the world that was just as oblivious as it was beautiful.
“… but our mothers and grandmothers and grandfathers still consider Mir the king.”
“And you?”
The driver guffawed — “Sure, why not? We just do our jobs, get our salary and hope things get better here — whoever makes it better. The people in your Kashmir are already getting that dream fulfilled,” he sounded wistful. A good actor.
“They work hard, they choose their future,” Atharva smiled.
Their car turned onto an exit of a narrow single-lane and they left the Karakoram Ranges behind, the bottomless valleys and blue mountains of the silk route only a mystic shine of sunlight on squinted eyelids. They travelled for another five minutes and a giant wood-and-stone structure rose into view.
The place was a luxurious mountain hotel converted into an official guesthouse for the Chief Minister of Jammu & Kashmir by the Chief Minister of Gilgit-Baltistan, at the request of the Chancellor of Azad University of Hunza. Atharva expected to meet the Chancellor of Azad University but was surprised to find the Chief Minister of Gilgit-Baltistan at the gate instead.
His convoy came to a stop. His door was thrust open by his security. Fahad was right there, waiting. Atharva got down, a smile on his face for the aged Chief Minister of the other half of Kashmir, waiting for him with a matching smile in his ancient eyes.
“Dilshad sahab,” Atharva nodded, extending his hand for a shake.
“Janab.”
“Friend of Mir,” he heard Fahad mutter in his ear as he passed him to shake hands. He knew it, of course, but couldn’t decipher why the special treatment in spite of the circumstance.
————————————————————
“Koi kuchh bhi kahe[21], whatever the lines, the fact will always remain that we are brothers,” Dilshad Khan pointed to his own chest and then at his, clasping his hand again. Atharva thumped his hand atop their clasped ones, smiling his full statesman smile — “Bilkul. Kashmiri toh Kashmiri hai.[22]”
“Before your address at the university tomorrow, I want to show you our Kashmir.”
Atharva opened his mouth but he held a wrinkled finger up — “No, I will not take no for an answer. I checked your itinerary. You have the afternoon free.”
Not for you.
“Bring Bhabhi and Chote Janab too, it will be a good way to make memories. Your little boy is three-four months old already, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but my wife couldn’t accompany us.”
“Oh,” his brows furrowed. “Is everything ok? I heard about your loss after the attack on her. It was terrible…”
“We are moving on from that.”
“Hmm… what else can be done? Did you find the culprit?”
Atharva eyed the man, something not right in his inquisitiveness. His gut ticked. He wanted to keep this trip as uneventful as possible and yet it felt like this question needed him to probe. Instinct won and he felt the lie burst out of his mouth — “Yes.”
Dilshad Khan blinked.
“I’m sure you would have made him pay,” he recovered quickly. Atharva flashed a non-committal smile.
“And what about your wife? Has she remained strong through it all?”
“Yes. She would have accompanied me but her sister has caught chicken pox in Ahmedabad. She had to rush to her.”
“And you got stuck with baby duty,” he grinned.
“It was that or expose him to chicken pox and have ourselves many more sleepless nights,” Atharva quipped, trying to measure the old man. Nothing seemed off about him now.
