Chapter 15
A defeated god ceases to be divine. Amaal read the transcript as the recorded video of Atharva’s Kashmir University speech went on in the background on her mobile.
Chunky, heavy wording for a college crowd.
But Atharva had pulled it off. So well, that it was already trending on Twitter.
Amaal swiped up the app, copied the hashtag and pasted it in her KDP Viral WhatsApp group.
AMAAL
Seed this
She added fuel to the fire.
The group had techies, Twitteraties and cream journalists who were hardcore KDP supporters. They would take this hashtag and run it into bigger circles, whipping up the video as well as its snippets.
“We are here, Am.”
She looked up from her phone and pulled her earphones off. The car had come to a stop outside the main house. It was dark now, but the lights glowed extra bright with the soft snowfall. The Media Room’s lights glowed the brightest.
Amaal looked at the man beside her. Young, handsome, lean to his bones, and looking like a proper corporate in his wool suit and tie.
He had a muscular, bearded face, but his smile was soft.
And it never failed to miss its mark. Amaal returned that smile — “Thanks for dropping me, Khalil, but you really didn’t have to.
” She opened her door, pushed out her umbrella and got out.
“I know,” he got out from the other side, his own umbrella open.
“I live right behind this mansion,” Amaal pointed, holding her umbrella close. The sudden switch from the car’s warm interiors to this freezer outside was jarring.
“For a novice party, your office is very grand.” He matched her steps, walking close to her, his height not so tall that her umbrella would knock into him. “It’s actually a little ostentatious.”
Amaal chuckled, knowing the truth that he, and most of the world, didn’t.
That this was not ostentatious. This was circumstance.
Atharva had opened his ancestral home to run a party that did not even have furniture funds at its inception.
She had walked into a bare office, with rickety chairs that only Atharva ever sat on.
They turned the corner, and the outhouse rose to view, the lights all on.
Of course, this house never slept early.
But she had a room to herself, unlike most others who shared or slept in the hall.
It was a mess, but she loved messes like that.
Chatter all day and night, especially after a long day.
And her parents had been at ease, knowing she was living in a safe place that they had seen, with so many people, and under Atharva’s protection.
The last one still made her feel like a baby, but that was the price she had paid for staying.
“That’s me,” Amaal slowed. “You don’t have to walk me all the way. This is not London.”
“I can see the tight security, but I’d still walk you. I did pick up a few gentlemanly tricks there.” Khalil smirked.
“All except one.”
“Hey!” His voice rose in jest. “That was one time, and it started the best six months between us.”
“Umm… debatable,” she squinted at him.
“Not at the end, and I could not stop saying sorry…”
“I know, I know,” she smiled. She held no hard feelings.
He had returned home to Delhi after his course, and there had been nothing to do about it.
His parents were old, and he did not plan to leave them.
Truthfully, she hadn’t been too bummed either.
They really were a great six months, all things considered.
“Now that we are both here,” Khalil leaned closer, their umbrella heads knocking as he pushed his head under hers. That charming move had gotten her a time or two. “What does your life look like?”
“A blur.” She leaned in, walking closer to him. “I wake up and a month has passed. I wake up again and two years have passed.”
He winced playfully.
“Stop. You head your channel’s North beat. You don’t have a leg to stand on.”
“I’m still here, aren't I?”
“Yeah, thanks again for that.”
“I,” he pointed a finger at his chest. “Am supposed to be wooed by you.” He pointed it at hers. “And I am doing all the sweet talk. You are a pathetic Media Head.”
“I spent all day wooing you!” She gasped. “Kahl!”
They stopped at the closed door of the outhouse, and she pulled her umbrella shut. His face softened. He had started to keep a beard now, but he smiled just like the old Kahl. He closed his umbrella, stepped forward and held her shoulders — “It was so good seeing you, Am.”
“Same here.”
He pulled her in an embrace, and Amaal wrapped her arms around his shoulders, coming face to face with Samar behind him.
If she wasn’t hugging Khalil, she would have recoiled.
He looked like he had committed genocide and come home. His dark eyes bore into hers. “Excuse me,” he bit out to Khalil, eyes still on her.
“Sorry,” Khalil pulled her out of his embrace, but kept his arms around her, moving them both to the side. Amaal stared in horror as Samar rounded them, and Khalil finally saw who it was.
“Oh, hello. Dr. Samar Dixit, is it?” He finally let her go and extended a hand to Samar. Amaal stood there as Samar shook his hand, his long brown coat his only cover from this snow. He wore formals today but looked like the wild animal he usually did in his T-shirts and cargoes.
“My name is Khalil Khan. I’m the head of North and North West at Star.”
“I know.”
Khalil made a surprised sound, then glanced at her — “You talk about me, Am?”
“You were on our Most Wanted list,” she joked. But really, he was the top name. The more higher-ups at channels were in their pockets, the more coverage, and the more right kind of coverage they got.
“I can imagine you throwing darts at my face.”
She smirked.
“More on that soon,” Khalil stepped back. “I’ll take off now. I’m back in Kashmir next week but I won’t have the entire day. Let me know if you are up for a drink. We can also talk shop for a while.”
“I will. Thanks again, Khalil.”
“Any time.”
He opened his umbrella, nodded at Samar and set off for his car.
“How was Kashmir University?” She asked Samar. He was looking at Khalil walking away.
“Samar?”
He did not stop looking until after Khalil was out of their sight. Then, his eyes came to her. And they were just as menacing as they had been a minute ago. She had always seen him cold. Suddenly, he was seething.
“What’s wrong?”
He started to round her to open the door, but she made a frustrating groan and blocked him — “Talk straight some time! I am asking you what’s wrong, what happened at KU?! Can’t you answer that straight at least?”
“Quiet,” he held his finger up to her mouth. Not touching. Hovering. Amaal had been over his intense behaviour a long time ago. But… he hadn’t stood this close to her since that time a long time ago. Her breathing picked up. Something buried long ago began to throb.
“It’s a disaster.”
She reeled back — “What?”
“You asked, I answered. Now move.”
“What disaster? Fahad said the road show was good, the enthusiasm was palpable, the engagement numbers are also coming in…” She swiped her mobile open and, as always, it was to a long list of notifications.
“No security breach. This speech is also catching up. He is trying some new writer, who is she?”
“A Trojan Horse!”
Amaal gaped at him. He never yelled. He never looked like he was out of control. Right now, the veins on his neck were swelling. Vibrating.
“Samar,” she said quietly. “Did something happen? Do I need to go to the office right now…?” She turned and took a step when her arm was caught in a grip. It wasn’t tight, but it was firm. Samar had never touched her before.
Amaal whirled, ready to tear into him for this.
“Sorry.” He left her arm immediately, as if he had come to his senses. His eyes widened behind his specs, shocked. Amaal was unable to gauge what was happening to him. She was unable to decide what to do. She stepped back, but kept her eyes on his — “What is happening? Are you ok?”
He kept staring at her. What was he feeling?
Pain? Anger? Shock? What? What was he thinking?
Did he even think? In the years that she had worked with him, closely at first and then at a distance, she had figured him to be a blank mind.
He did not think too deeply. He just did the work that needed doing and moved on.
She had never seen him frozen like this.
Not literally, but in something completely invisible. Maybe inside his head.
“Where is Atharva?”
His shock broke. And the anger took over again. This time, she had no chance to do anything before he pulled the door open and stormed inside the outhouse.
————————————————————
“Fahad, debrief,” Amaal ordered first thing the next morning, before she had even had a drop of coffee. The Media Room was buzzing, as were the other rooms. Yesterday had been a boost to their draining engines, especially after the blasts the day before yesterday.
“One minute, Amaal…”
“Right now. Eat after you cough up.”
He huffed, marching to her and standing with his arms tied in front of him.
“I’m not in the mood right now, get on with it.”
He huffed again — “It was a good day, all things considered. What made you so snappy?”
“Later. Tell me in detail, from the beginning.”
“A girl dropped in here out of nowhere and she was in Atharva Bhai’s office for a while. Next thing, Adil Bhai was telling us that she is doing a copy test for the speech. I told him it’s risky and all but he said Atharva Bhai is minding it.”
“Then?”
“The road show was peaceful. One attempt was made at Nowhatta. Nobody got to know because it was neutralised.”
“Samar.”
Fahad shrugged. He never said it out loud. None of them did. But everybody, at least all the old ones, knew it. Things that ‘cannot be asked, things that need to be on a need-to-know basis.’ Especially about Samar’s affairs.
“Then?”