“She is still thinking. She came to us during her Navratri break. Now for Diwali, they are going on a trip to Hampi.”
Amaal glanced at Atharva. “She does not have security anymore.”
“I am aware.”
Amaal frowned. “She is no more in the scope of threat but…”
“Mirza takes care of it,” Atharva stated.
“But he is in Srinagar.”
“It’s a need-basis thing.”
Amaal sat back. And silence pervaded the hall. Only Yathaarth’s quiet suckling noises remained.
“Qureshi wants to talk to you,” Samar broke the silence. Amaal glanced at him. For the first time since she had sat down here. He looked… good. In one of his white shirts, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his burn scars visible, the neck of the shirt open too, giving a peek into the corner of his throat where some graft skin showed. His jaw was stubbled, his face fuller than it had been last. He looked healthy, like the ordeal of last year had finally been set behind him.
“He has my number.” Atharva’s voice made her stop ogling Samar.
“He wants to talk face-to-face.”
Back to Samar.
Amaal didn’t hear half the conversation that went on between them, because she couldn’t help but debate if this man would be hers again. The distance of the last six months was so deep and their communication so scant, that she did not know what would happen. Worse, she was scared to find out. She had never been scared of anything in her entire life. Except for that Badamwari firing. And his accident. But those were momentary scares, come and gone within a span of hours, days. This had been lingering in the back of her mind for a long time.
“Atharva, I don’t want to sound like his advocate but the four of us have to come to the table at some point. The party cannot run like this.” Samar’s deep, authoritative voice made her sit up. She moved her eyes away from his face.
“I don’t have a seat at the table in Kashmir anymore. Not until I am persona non grata there. As far as HDP is concerned, I am doing what you want me to do. I don’t see what more I can do.”
“You are doing a whole lot of party building here so do not turn it on me.Igave you the base to restart…”
Her eyes widened. She looked at Samar, but he had trailed at that point, thank god.
“I thank you for the opportunity,” Atharva said curtly.
“Fuck, I did not mean it like that. You know I did not mean it like that. This is your party too.”
Atharva nodded. “Try and keep the F word in check now. He is picking up,” he nodded to his son.
“I did not mean it, Atharva. I swear I did not. I just need KDP to come together again.”
“I know.”
“We can have the meeting here. You, me, Adil, Zorji and Qureshi. Low level, informal. But things need to start rolling again. We have panchayat elections next year in Kashmir and Ladakh. Party workers need your support and strategy.”
“I thought my MLAs are now Qureshi’s.”
“Don’t act ignorant. MLAs left, but base-level workers are still sympathetic towards you.”
“Listen, I cannot come there. Indefinitely. There is no point in giving false hope to anybody. Also, I don’t want to create more problems for myself or my family by getting involved in anything in Kashmir right now. If I am ordered to remain out of the state, I will make sure I remain out and not give the opposition, the government or the SIT any opportunity to add onto my sentence. I suggest you take Adil for strategising. Make Sonam his deputy. He has good insights and ideas both.”
The mood of the room tanked.
This time, Iram lifted it — “Let’s move to the dining table. Daniyal will be home soon, we can start eating then.”
————————————————————
Amaal sucked the malai kulfi stick, trying and failing to compare it to Panditji’s ice cream. How long had it been since they had visited him? Two years?
