“Common conversation is still about you.”
“Good or bad?”
“Pick one,” he held both his fists out.
Atharva kept staring.
“Good,” he pulled his wrists down. “Mostly. The people are not happy with this change. And it’s also visible how you were pushed out by KDP itself. And…”
“And what?”
“Now there is a new worry for KDP.”
It was like Noora was suppling facts and Atharva instinctively knew the reasons behind those.
“How will they win the next legislative election,” Atharva voiced out loud. “If there is one thing people don’t forgive, it is treason.”
“So the current very, very,veryinternal plan for the campaign is to make them forget it.”
Atharva nodded.
“And forget you.”
That means there was no road leading home for at least the next two years. If, at all, Qureshi won the election after two years… there were chances he could negotiate a deal to go back home. Qureshi would then be secured in his position. Or… Atharva thought, if he could manipulate the election with Janta winning more seats than KDP, and strike a deal with Yogesh Patel. Atharva reined in the horses galloping in different directions. If he wanted a shot at going back in either case, he had to make himself oblivious in public memory first. They had to forget him. Move on from him.
And what would he do when he returned home to a people who had forgotten him? He did not want to think about that yet.
Home was preferable to a profession.
“Who got my books…” Iram pushed the door ajar, laptop open on one arm. She stopped short, her frown melting at the sight of Noora. “You came! Did you bring the groceries I messaged you about?”
“It’s food,” Noora grinned. “I got double.”
“And you brought my books too…”
“Oh, I thought you would be missing them all…” he smiled coyly. Iram chuckled, indulging the man-child, but her brown gaze moved over to him. Atharva saw how soft she looked. The last few months had made her step up and become the shoulder of their household. Now, with her books here and him ready to share the load again, the giddy girl inside her was slowly peeping out.
“Noona…” Arth’s tiny head popped from between her legs and the half-open door.
“Arthaa!” Noora opened his arms and Atharva grunted as his son squeezed past Iram and ran into Noora’s open arms. As the great family reunion went on in the background, he reached for Adil’s folder and snapped open the velcro.
Newspapers from the last month.
He pulled up Adil’s message from last night.
ADIL
Noora is BOILING my brains. Take him back!
BOILING,he cracked the code in his head.
Take him back.He turned the word around, then numbered the code. Letters resembling the numerical.
6217108
He picked up 6th October.
Brains,he went to the Tech section and read through the random words underlined in a light pencil.
