“We didn’t know about it!”
“Who killed him? The army or the J&K Police?”
“I don’t know, Samar. But I need to be there like, yesterday!” She pulled her elbow out of his hold and moved down the corridor.
“I don’t believe Atharva wouldn’t know about it!” Samar asserted. This was huge. He had eyes in the back and sides of his head. “I’m sure he ordered whatever this is…”
“I don’t have any answers, Samar.” She came back barreling down the hall with her purse. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Do you anyway have a time of coming back?”
Amaal froze at the door. She gaped at him. Then pulled the door open, stepped out, and banged it shut. Samar limped around the house and checked the horizontal surfaces of the kitchen and the hall. No mobile. She had taken it.
————————————————————
He changed into his workout gear — one of his pair of cotton shorts that were loose and airy, and nothing else. He rolled out the yoga mat in the hall and turned the fan to full. The warmth of the dusk was excruciating after how it had drizzled today. It looked like an outpour was on its way. He hadn’t felt affected by extreme temperatures earlier, but now the medicines and these itching grafts were making it all a living hell.
The thought of itching made him reflexively reach for his chest but he held his fingers back. Instead of nails, he used his knuckles to soothe the itch.
“Fucking hell.” He stood with his feet apart and began neck warmups. His eyes reached the wall clock. Dr. Mann was ten minutes late. He was never late. Samar continued with his warmups, confident in holding his own weight up as he moved from neck to shoulders to arms that he could hold at 70 degrees with a resistance band. His back was still stiff and unyielding so he left that to Dr. Mann, moving onto his waist and knees. He needed to start doing some sort of cardio soon. It would open up his movements like nothing else, and also help his knees.
He made a mental note to consult Dr. Mann when his mobile buzzed. Samar abandoned the resistance band and picked it up. “Yes, Dr. Mann?”
“Dr. Dixit, I won’t be able to make it today. There’s curfew in my area…”
“Your clinic?”
“Yes, I am stuck here. They are saying some militant was killed and it’s going to get violent.”
“Hmm. Are you safe there?”
“For now, yes. I’m sure the government will do something…”
“Yes,” Samar said. “Let me ask around and get back to you. In the meantime, stay put. If a curfew is put then it must be to prevent anything bad.”
“Exactly my thoughts.”
Samar ended the call and switched to Amaal. The ringer went on and on. He was about to cut it when she picked it up.
“Hello? Are you ok?”
“Yes, why?”
“You never call unless there’s something wrong…”
“I’m ok, how is everything there?” He hesitated. “Can you talk for a minute?”
“Hang on…” He heard her murmurs in the background. “…call him, now… of course now as in now!” She screamed at somebody. “Get hold of the minutes copy first.”
“Yes.” Amaal came back on. “Everything is not ok here. This situation with Usama is evolving and… one sec…”
Again she was off, murmurs and yells. Even in this grave moment, Samar smiled, missing that time of being under her terror as their Media Head. They used to fight then too, but those fights weren’t like now. They were… innocent. Nowadays, they were thorns — from his side. And resistance, rightly so, from her side.
“Sorry,” she came back. “I won’t be back home tonight mostly. Eat and go to sleep on time…”
“How will you come back home when you do?”
“Meaning?”
