“This is the reality here.” His curt, solemn words fell on her like blades. “Nobody can promise it would not be you. But if you live to reach the other side, Badamwari will bloom without blood.”
“Is this you scaring me into leaving or… giving me a hint to stay back?”
He turned and walked away.
————————————————————
It was after 11.30 that night that Samar trudged into the mansion and towards their office. The place was a graveyard today. Nothing bad had happened here, but everything felt off. Like it always did after a raid. Even if everybody had come back accounted for, it was always this graveyard silence that stilled every breath. Even if celebrations rang loud and fires burned bright, at night, before turning in, everybody would feel the ‘what if.’ At least once.
Samar pushed open the door and found Atharva sitting on his chair, his laptop open in front of him. Adil was sprawled on the chair beside his, staring at the ceiling.
“Your bleeding stopped?”
Adil reached blindly for his cup of coffee and took a long drink — “You took good care of me, why wouldn’t it?”
Samar ignored him. He had spent long enough with Adil Hussain to know that his fun was fun, and his defence mechanism was also fun. He stared at Atharva long enough for him to look up from his laptop. His tired eyes were drooping, but he nodded. Samar still took his gaze to the area around his mouth. He had sustained a fall on his mouth, and the bleeding had been incessant, as it always was in that section of the head. It was swollen now. Would not need stitches.
“What are you doing?” He closed the door and quietly swiped Adil’s coffee mug from the table before he could reach for it again. Samar brought it to his mouth and tilted it, bottom up. He had drunk nothing but a glass of water in the last eight hours. The half-full mug of milky coffee went down his throat, warm, filling and disgusting.
“Writing out our official letter to the SMC.”
“Nothing will happen,” Samar scoffed. “We all know who commands Haq Force. SMC will do nothing but file this letter in their archives and tell you ‘We told you so.’”
“This is record building,” Atharva muttered, whatever that meant, and went on typing.
Samar took a seat on a visitor’s chair, finding petty humour in seeing Adil pat the desk blindly for his coffee. He drained the last of the liquid he didn’t even like and silently replaced it. Off it went into his hand and…
“Die, Samar!”
Samar chuckled.
“Have we learnt our lesson now?” Samar asked. “Events are not only a drain of money and resources but also dangerous while we are still half-baked.”
“Without events, we won’t get to become full-baked,” Atharva muttered.
“Catch-22 right there,” Adil huffed to the ceiling.
“Vicious cycle,” Samar added. A moment passed, and Atharva finally lifted his eyes and hands from his laptop. He pushed his chair back until it collided with the glass behind him.
“There has to be a way. This was a small, peaceful event. If we can’t pull offthissuccessfully, how will we pull off rallies?”
“Will we even get permissions for rallies now?” Adil laughed darkly. “And if we do, would people show up?”
“Don’t put the cart in front of the horse,” Atharva kicked his chair.
Adil sat up. “What are we even doing here, guys? This is not our forte! Building a political party. Apoliticalparty? That’s for Aamir Haider-type of people. Not us. We are not meant to take shit like this and be silent. We either pull out our own guns and annihilate their entire fucking troop or go off to some mountain and remain under snow for a century.”
Samar glanced at Atharva. They remained silent. Adil’s rant died; his breath remained shallow. And then, when a long minute passed, that settled too. He simply went back to reclining in his chair and staring at the ceiling.
“There is one way.” Samar found himself thinking out loud. “Haq Force’s greatest enemy right now is India, Indian Army, represented by us and KDP for them. What if they have a new enemy, one that is more dangerous than us?”
Atharva’s eyes lifted to his. Samar could see the cogs turning. He was on the right track then. If Atharva was silent, then there was merit in the idea.
“Whatever enemy they have, it will need to rise fast.” Adil deducted.
“Hmm.” Samar agreed. “For Kashmir to need momentary peace, the firing needs to turn elsewhere.”
More minutes of silence ticked.
