It wasn’t as if she could not get in touch with him. But he did not text or call her like when they were dating. They would speak on occasion, even meet when he was in Srinagar, but their meetings were work, and their texts and calls were updates on either her life or his health. Quick catch-ups that ended without delving anywhere deep.
And, his six months had ended a month ago.
He had not come back to Srinagar, nor had he mentioned anything about the deadline. In his defence, she had been avoiding his calls ever since the six-month mark had passed. Because Amaal was scared. She had never before been scared like this. Because if he hadn’t come running back to her after six months, and was clearly swamped with his work in Himachal, maybe he had decided it was easier to move on.
They had fought more than been at peace in their short time together. Maybe he had figured it out and now was unable to tell her.
Amaal rubbed her palms and threw her face into them as the car turned into Briarwood Bungalow, Iram and Atharva’s Shimla home. She smiled at the beautiful Victorian home with green roofs and tall deodars. It was perfect. Samar had delivered such a masterstroke to them. And kept delivering. She had heard that he had pulled Atharva into working in HDP along with him. Nothing high-level, just low-key membership drives and behind-the-scenes stuff where he wouldn’t be in the public eye. Whatever Samar was doing, he was redeeming himself for sure, Amaal thought, getting out of the back of the car with the bags of gifts and items that Iram had ordered from Srinagar. Half of it was local grocery, and Amaal couldn’t wait to sing to her about her new domestic goddess avatar.
“Aap picche park kar dijiye[152].” She told the driver, seeing Atharva’s Range Rover at the back of the house. As the taxi moved, she ventured towards the main door. The evening was mildly chilly but the sun still kept things warm. Amaal took a detour towards the garden that sloped up. Such beautiful plants. Petunias and jasmine bushes and green grass even in autumn.
The bags were heavy so she ran up to the house first, the door open.
“Hello! Anybody home?”
Nobody responded.
“Iram? Atharva?!”
“Bhabhi market gayi hai aur Janab upar kaam kar rahe hai.[153]” Shiva’s monotone drone came from the kitchen.
“Aur baaki sab?[154]” Daniyal and Noora had also come with Atharva and Iram when they had left Srinagar. Daniyal out of rebellion against his father, and Noora because he was Noora and needed no reason.
“Baaki sab?” Amaal asked again.
Still no response.
And then her eyes fell on Noora’s photo frame on a side table. The same passport-sized photo that he kept in his wallet. There was a matching photo of Daniyal, too. Amaal burst out laughing.
Aah, this was Srinagar. Noora placed his photos on whatever he owned and Shiva wouldn’t even come out to welcome the guest or open the door.
She deposited the bags on the coffee table sitting in the centre of the sofas and moved around the hall. Iram had shown her the place on video when they had moved here, and shown her the place when it a was work in progress. This house had turned into a pretty, cozy space.
Amaal walked out of the door and down the garden, touching and feeling the flowers, the leaves, smelling the black mud. It had been ages since she had lived in such a place. She had been staying in their flat in Srinagar, which was now rented in her name after Samar’s lease had expired. Whenever he was in town, he would be at the spare apartment on Boulevard Road. And he was never in Srinagar for more than two days at a stretch. The thought of him made her smile fall. She would see him today. After two months. Maybe talk too? Or maybe not.
She was not ready to completely bid him goodbye yet, if it was indeed goodbye.
Amaal straightened from her hunch over the flowers and saw a silhouette climbing up the sloping road, a stroller and bags and all. She ran.
“Hiiiieee!”
Iram glanced up and broke into a grin — “You are early!”
Amaal ran down the hilly road and met her halfway, taking Yathaarth out of his stroller. “Ooooh!” She squeezed him to her chest. He smelled so good and felt so heavy. “You are heavy, and so balanced!” She bounced him in her arms. He showed her a toothy grin, his grey eyes a replica of Atharva’s.
“Remember me?”
He squished her cheeks and banged his hands like he did on their video calls.
“He thinks you are my phone screen,” Iram held up her bags. “And thanks for the help.”
“I took the heaviest load,” she swung him expertly on her hip and balanced like a pro. She couldn’t believe he was one plus years old. How had time flown?
“I am so happy right now you can’t imagine,” Amaal pressed her mouth to Yathaarth’s cheek and held it there. “He smells so good. Seeing you… it’s like Srinagar wasn’t Srinagar and here it is Srinagar.”
“You have just seen me and Arth. Wait till you see the troop inside…”
“I saw them.” She sputtered. “All of them except Janab.”
