“Daaxsaaab!” Her face burst into bright beaming light, and her head fell back laughing. He felt his own chest rattle, looking at her infectious little expression. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her nose was scrunched up, and her face was tipped up to him. She was glorious.
“You still remember? I had forgotten,” she was shaking her head, her hair shaking with it. Her eyes popped open, and she did that thing again, taking both her hands and tucking her hair behind her ears and then back over her shoulders.
“I haven’t been able to look at a Glock the same ever since.”
“Why do you even need to look at a Glock as a respected future MLA of Jammu… wait a minute, don’t answer that.”
He smiled, knowing that she knew what dark alleys he frequented. Or at least, she guessed now.
“That’s better.” She circled one finger around his face. “Now hold that for the next four hours. Go.”
“Aren’t you coming?”
“I have to take care of something else.”
“Work related?”
“You overheard last night. So, don’t ask.”
“How do you know I did?”
“You walk like an elephant.”
He was the stealthiest man in that outhouse. But then, he had made no effort to silence his departure last night, too far gone to care.
“Is it ok for Atharva to take somebody from the party like this? Won’t it backfire on you?”
“Why would it?”
“It might get people talking about the wrong kind of things.”
“Plus ones from work are common at such parties. Iram is his speech writer, it’s not a problem.”
Samar stared at her. Then he turned around to leave, but felt her grip on his elbow. He stopped.
“It’s again going bad,” she warned. “Keep thinking about the Glock all through the interview.”
“It’s not funny again and again,” he said over his shoulder.
“Then think about the video game you lost.”
“I won.”
“Huh? I don’t remember it that way.”
Before he could turn around and debate that very controversial topic, she had left his elbow and was walking away. Her shoulders were vibrating. And he thought about that infectious sight all through his interviews that day.
20. Love was in the air…
Love was in the air. Amaal could sense that looking at Iram in the days leading up to their manifesto launch. But it was on the day of the launch that Atharva impulsively validated it, and made her job, plus her life, exponentially difficult.
“…KDP aapse kehta hai, aage dekho. Pichle sitam ko bhool kar aage badhne se aayega aman…[85]” He was on a roll on the stage, addressing a crowd that had turned up in thousands, way beyond their projection. Amaal glanced at Iram, on her toes by her side, the rest of the backstage cleared for security purposes.
“Jo hua, woh galat hua. Sabne bohot kuch khoya hai. Lekin ab do raaste yahan se nikalte hai — ek, gusse mein, khoon mein lipte raho. Yaa phir, Jhelum mein doobki lagao, purane zakhm dho lo, aur phir ek baar ghar ki neev rakho. Kashmir Development Party ka manifesto apne Pundit bhaiyo ko ghar bulata hai. Hum iss Kashmir ko phir se basana chahte hai.[86]”
Amaal panned her gaze across the crowd and to the backstage area opposite theirs. Her eyes stuttered on Samar. He was looking at her. Amaal didn’t want to hold his eyes. She had held his stare once, and come to regret it. Things were beginning to happen again. She knew she would be able to hold herself back. But he wasn’t making it easy. She had a sense that he himself didn’t know what he was doing. He had started acting impulsively, instinctively, even thoughtlessly for a man who used to not even take his next breath without thinking.
What had triggered it?
