Chapter 7 #2
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 off this successfully, 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. A political party? 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.
“Haq Force is funded by Awaami to disrupt any opponent and disturb elections,” Atharva’s voice finally echoed.
“They demand that Kashmir be ceded to Pakistan. Their enemy is the one that prevents it. The one preventing it is either India, or… another separatist group that demands something different for Kashmir.”
“Like an independent state.” Adil sat up. “JKFA.”
Samar shook his head. “They are extinct.”
“Yes,” Atharva agreed. “But their fringe groups are not. We don’t need a full-blown war between the two factions. Only enough pests to keep Haq Force occupied, even when they get paid by Awaami. Samar?”
“Hmm?”
“That which we can only know on a need-to-know basis can do this?”
“Yes.”
“But gradually. Smoothly.”
“Hmm.”
“In the meantime, I want to create an imagery across the rest of India. Official letters of complaint to the Home Ministry, the Defence Ministry and the Ministry of Culture, along with a nationwide narrative. A new party has formed in Jammu & Kashmir that is professing for India, Indian identity and oneness. It is being subjected to oppression by separatists and the current regime. Robin Hood and the Sheriff.”
“And the money for it?” Adil asked.
“I am having conversations with some Pundits from the UK. I will speed those up. If funding comes in pounds, we have an advantage in conversion.”
“But we said we don’t want any influence…”
“My conversations with them are subject to return of Pundits to the valley, which is an agenda in our top five anyway. Right now, we need an inflow of money. We will not sell our souls to the devil but we have to get practical. Without money or might, what happened today will happen again. It’s time to up the ante. ”
“I agree with you.” Samar crossed his arms across his chest.
“I will speak to Qureshi, and then rope in Amaal. If we are to expand on our funding, then she will need to step up and take over a lot more responsibility than she already has.” He grabbed his mobile and unlocked it, presumably dialling Qureshi.
“Hello, Amaal… I am sorry to disturb you so late. Were you asleep… hmm… I know you are unwell and still managed the event… it was an event well organised, everything considered… everything is fine now… yes… no, three… they are at the SMHS Hospital… no, but we are… It’s alright, take some rest at home…
can you manage a few hours’ of calls tomorrow? ”
Then he fell silent. Samar eyed him, waiting for the bomb to drop. She was leaving, and rightly so. This was not a place for a single foreign-raised girl like her.
“No problem. We will make sure you are comfortable. Good night.”
He disconnected the call and set his mobile down.
“What happened?”
“She said she is feeling much better and will be back to the office tomorrow.”
“That’s it?”
“What else?”
He shrugged. “I am surprised she is not running out of Kashmir after what happened today.”
“She doesn’t seem like she will run at the first sign of adversity. She is very much here.”
Samar didn't know if he should snub her foolhardiness to live in this marsh of grenades or laud her courage to make it better.