Chapter 15 #2
“The welcome Atharva Bhai got in KU!” He shook his head dramatically. “Oh fuck, you had to be there to feel it, Amaal! Half the battle was won there only. And then that speech. Fuuuuck. That writer, Eram… she is a must-have now.”
“Do we have her contact details?”
“She is here only.”
“Meaning?”
“She slept here.”
“Here where?”
“Upstairs. Hina Khala said she wasn’t well. The story goes that she was there at our rally day before and got injured.”
“This is too confusing. Fahad. In one line — Is there something fishy about what happened yesterday?”
“No. Why?”
She went silent, thinking, trying to understand.
“Anyway,” she shook her head. “Go, get on with your day. Let’s consolidate and go over the numbers. Atharva will be needing them before breakfast for sure.”
“Already happening,” he pointed to his own team of interns. Amaal couldn’t believe that her intern now had his own interns. But he still called himself an intern.
“What happened with Khalil Khan yesterday?” He asked.
The question brought the thought of Samar in that mood last night.
Amaal clawed her hair back and bundled it up in a high ponytail, suddenly feeling hot in the heated interiors.
“I wouldn’t say it was a day wasted because the outcome was good.
He is ready to send his star journalists to cover our big events.
Even Toru Ray is on the table. We haven’t worked out which events yet, but the ground-level stuff can be dealt with as and when the need arises.
I was thinking of calling her for something like ‘A Day with Atharva Kaul.’ Maybe on the manifesto launch day? ”
“Hmm…”
“Don’t hmm,” she scolded. Then, in a voice loud enough for the whole room to hear —“Nobody in this room will use the reaction ‘Hmm’ in front of me ever again. Understood?”
They all looked at her like she had grown two heads. With the way she had slept after last night and woken up to this crazy world, she might as well have.
“Go back to work.” She turned. And came face to face with Atharva.
“What got you so worked up?”
“Nothing. What’s going on with this new writer?”
“Let’s talk in my office.”
She glanced at his peacoat and then at his put-together appearance. “You seem to be on your way out.”
“I was. Let’s finish this and then I will head out.”
She followed him.
————————————————————
“Tell me.” Amaal sat down in front of him as he walked behind his desk and picked out a stapled bunch from the mess.
“Iram.” He handed her the bunch. Amaal glanced at the sheet, scanning his yesterday’s speech.
“She has been a blogger. Nothing in politics. Check out her blog. It’s fiction and some poems. Earns through ads on her blog.
Background is still running but I have offered her the position for Staff Writer. ”
“Hmm.”
“Let’s try with her. We have had a string of writers come and go, maybe she will stay.”
“This is too random.”
“At this point, do you have another option?”
Amaal shook her head, setting the bundle down. She did not need to scan the speech because she had heard it three times already since last night.
A defeated god ceases to be divine.
Ages ago Jehangir called our Kashmir a heaven, the divine. And since then, we have accepted it as our god. This land that gave us life…
“She is starting tomorrow. Just take her under your wing, don’t go too hard in the beginning.”
Amaal’s eyebrows shot up — “You are saying that? You make me throw them into the deep end on day 0!”
“Desperate times, desperate measures. How was Khalil Khan?” He leaned back on the glass wall behind him, arms crossed.
Amaal nodded — “He is coming around. He agreed for star journalists to come and cover our campaigns. Nitti gritties TBD. I am also trying to push in some of our op-eds and editorials across the broadsheets under Star. He has promised to introduce me to some of his friends. We may meet again next week.”
“Good. Let’s amp this up. Budgeting is tight as always, but tell me the number and I’ll make it available for this one thing. We need national coverage, now more than ever. That’s the identity of a truly ‘big’ party in the eyes of the locals going to vote.”
“I agree.” Amaal got to her feet. “Atharva?”
“Hmm?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Say it,” he chuckled.
“Did something happen yesterday?”
“Like what?”
“Like…” Amaal stopped his name from rolling across her tongue. She had never talked about Samar with anybody. Least of all Atharva. She wasn’t about to start now.
“Nowhatta.” She instantly thought on her feet.
“There was an attempt to open fire. It was contained in time. No harm done.”
“That’s good. Ok, then, I’ll see you around.”
Amaal turned and left his office, just as confused about Samar now as she had been this morning. More so.
————————————————————
That evening, Amaal walked out of the main house and turned towards the outhouse as the sun was setting. She would go back for another session with the editors, but they had gone to eat dinner, and she needed a lie-down. She knew it would be a long night.
“Hey, Amaal!”
She glanced behind at Adil’s voice.
“Hey, how are you? Did they do something to you…?”
“Later…” He looked like he was in a hurry.
“Where are you running to?”
“I have an emergency with the app. Listen, Iram, the new writer is coming right now with her luggage. Just settle her in, no?”
“Here?” She gaped. “Adil, it’s full. Even the hall is littered with these lousy logistics guys.”
“Just find some space. Atharva offered her without checking. I was going to see if any room has space for sharing…”
Hers did, and Amaal didn’t want to share it.
“Please, ok. I am off, bye!” He passed her, jogging down the steps and to his car.
Amaal huffed. Couldn’t she get some real rest at all today?
Her eyes were drooping, her head was a mess.
She needed to leave Samar’s thoughts behind.
In the last three years, she hadn’t thought about him much.
They had come to a neutral ground. And remained there.
It wasn’t even awkward after one point to be colleagues.
She had brushed her embarrassment under the carpet, too.
She had developed a thicker skin being lashed and ground to dust in this profession. A lot had changed.
And yet… one look at that flip in his behaviour, and she was again regressing.
Amaal trudged to the outhouse, her feet dragging.
That’s when she heard it. The telltale sound of the trolley over rough ground.
She turned, and squinted at the path meandering from the main gate.
A figure, a young woman, pulling her luggage along and looking like she was a deer caught in the headlights.
Her head was turning from side to side, taking the estate in, her eyes dark but bright. She didn’t look much older than her.
She came closer, eyes still taking it all in.
“Hi. You are Iram?”
She slowed, her eyes widening. “Yes,” she panted, and set her bags down nervously. Amaal smiled. It was like looking at herself 4 years in the past.
“I am Amaal, Adil just informed me you were coming,” she found herself saying. “Come on in, I’ll show you around.”
Iram picked up her bags again and began following her, still nervous.
“This is the outhouse, a part of the main property but independent and fully functional,” Amaal said, talking to ease her nerves.
“The leadership decided to open it for all the people who have migrated here to work at KDP and might be facing accommodation problems. Currently, it has 2 kitchenettes and 13 rooms, and houses around 30 people, give or take.”
Iram gasped.
“It was built in the old times,” Amaal shrugged. “The outhouse was meant to be the servants’ quarters. Though if servants were treated this well…” she chuckled, “I could well get used to housework.”
“Wait Amaal.”
That voice. Samar.
They stopped, as he materialised from behind them like the ghost that he was.
"There are no extra rooms here.”
Was he serious? Amaal looked from him to the girl. She was suddenly red-faced.
“But Samar, she has come with her luggage,” Amaal said pointedly, grinding her teeth together. Samar wouldn’t even look at her, his eyes on Iram.
“I apologise Ms. Iram,” he clipped. “But we have no room here. Who told you that we had?”
Amaal now felt embarrassed on this girl’s behalf. What was wrong with Samar? He was never an asshole to any member or employee.
“I did.” Atharva’s clipped words startled them all. Except Samar. He went on as if he had been waiting to debate this.
“There are twelve habitable rooms in here and all occupied, even the hall is shared by the logistics guys. The last room is used by overnighters to crash. That’s just how it is, Atharva.”
Amaal eyed the two men, standing opposite each other, eyes not wavering from each other’s. It was like a battle. What was happening?
“Uhh… It’s ok.” Iram broke the tense air. “I have a place back in town. I’ll head back.”
“No.” Atharva announced. “If that is the case, you will take a room in the main house.”
Amaal’s eyes widened. Was this for real?
Atharva? Opening his space? For a woman?
She looked at Iram again. Was there something going on here?
Did she have to start preparing for a possible love story packet if their Chief Minister candidate got involved with somebody?
Her mind worked in overdrive because that was her job.
She was already considering the possibility of Iram being here to honeytrap the President and derail the campaign as a possibility when Atharva said to Iram, “The first floor is mine, you will have to take the attic. It’s not as big as the rooms in here, but it is neat and well-heated. ”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.
Amaal stood shellshocked as Iram turned and walked behind him, pulling her bags along.
She glanced to her side. Samar was standing there, just like her — struck. Amaal studied his face. He looked like he was ready to commit genocide.
“Is it about her?”