“I understand.”
Amaal tipped her chin, then took a step back — “I will make a move and start plotting out my work until Vishwas Bhaiya comes. Great meeting you two again.”
“You too.” Varun waved. “Say hi to Khalil for me.”
Amaal noticed Samar’s eyes widen slightly before they blinked, and he was back to ground zero.
“Will do,” she waved back and climbed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The shawl she had knotted at her throat began to feel warm, even in this cold. She tore it loose and kept climbing.
————————————————————
It was after 8 when she finally finished plotting the schedule for Atharva’s next four winter months in Jammu that would make it easier for him to work his party obligations while fulfilling his commitments as the Chief Minister. It had taken a good chunk of her day, but the clarity would give her unprecedented control going forward. She had learnt it the hard way in the first six months of Kashmir’s summer session.
Ever since the government had shifted here to Jammu last week, she had meant to do this working session. Amaal descended the stairs and came out to a deserted reception area. This KDP headquarters had been polished from the under-construction days when she had lived here, but it was just the same in its work timings. The place was a ghost town by sunset.
To be fair, it was winter.
“You are still here?”
Samar’s voice arrested her feet. She glanced at the coffee table and the surrounding chairs. He occupied one, thumb on his mobile, cigarette in mouth. Right under the No Smoking board. Amaal eyed it over his head. He knew that she did. And did not look like he cared.
She did not pay him heed. Amaal turned and stalked out of the door, the cool evening air nipping at her skin. Jammu wasn’t as cold as Kashmir in January, but it still became still and silent. The gym in the garage was lit though, loud pumping beats echoing out of its closed doors. It was fancy now, real equipment, smoother flooring, more weights…
“You are still here, Amaal?” Varun came up beside her.
“Oh, hi, yes…” she trailed to a stop as she felt Samar on her other side.
“I was about to give Samar Bhaiya a lift. How are you going home?”
“I am going to the Secretariat.”
“Samar Bhaiya is also going there.”
She eyed Samar.
“I have work there.”Not for you,he seemed to say.
“Drop me then, I will ask the driver to stay put.” She pulled out her mobile, eyeing the Mayor’s convoy of cars lined up in the driveway. She was no stranger to security-laden cars and convoys, having travelled with Atharva and his Z+ security numerous times. But now… when Varun opened the door for her to slip into the back seat with him, and Samar took the passenger seat, the Police sirens blaring in front and ahead of them as they set off, she felt closed in.
From her vantage, she could see the outline of his face. His spectacles were flaring the light of the traffic ahead of her. The scent of his cigarette was suffocating her. The memory of his sins was beginning to hold her. She threw a blanket over it all and stared out of her window instead.
Let this journey pass quickly.
And it passed in a blur. They were dropped off outside the Secretariat, at the hour when the place was wrapping up. They walked up together, silent, side by side. She flashed her clearance card and got frisked while he got his visitor’s pass stamped. And then they were together again, walking through the atrium towards the lift. There were no visitors, most bureaucrats exiting where they entered.
The lift emptied out, and they stepped in. Again, alone.
“How are you?” He asked, gaze straight ahead.
“Good.”
“It’s been a while since we saw each other.”
“We met last month when you wouldn’t stop firing at Iram.”
Amaal saw in their reflection of the lift doors how his jaw clenched. The lift pinged and the doors opened. She stepped out, her head turned enough to see him step back. The doors began to close, she began to walk away. And then she saw movement in her periphery. He had lunged out impulsively, slipping through the closing doors. Amaal turned, only to find a storm on his face. A sight she hadn’t seen in long months.
“Can we talk?” He nodded at the media pen ahead. Amaal eyed her office. Employees had thinned. Some still lingered though, curious eyes on them.
