Chapter 15 #3
His head whipped to her. And the wide, enraged eyes made her recoil yet again.
“You know her?”
Samar stared at her, his eyes in hers for so long after long years. The difference was, once he had stared at her out of playfulness or frustration or plain habit. Right now, it was… some malady. Some craziness. She took a step towards him, but he turned on his heels and stalked away. Yet again.
Amaal stood there, lost. From the day, from the wavering paths her mind was jumping across, from Samar, all over again.
————————————————————
Samar bulldozed his way up to Atharva’s bedroom and slapped on the open door. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
Atharva was at his window, arms crossed across his chest. They stared at each other, without a word. Samar stepped inside and quietly shut the door. He couldn’t raise his voice in here anymore without that girl hearing them, literally sitting on the top of their heads.
“Explain.”
“I judge people on the basis of facts. When Haider and his wife were murdered, she was chased by their killers but got out alive. She hasn’t been back in Srinagar ever since. Background is running, but her story is more or less corroborated.”
“More or less!” Samar caught on. “Do you not see how mental this is? Who saved that girl from those killers? Mohsin Sheikh and Sayyid Butt! Who else? Everybody in Srinagar was out for Haider’s blood at that time!”
“Don’t exaggerate.”
“Why are you hellbent on having her here? She wrote a speech and some kids clapped. SO WHAT? Don’t you see this is a trap?”
Atharva turned. Samar stared at his back, his tongue running uncontrolled, his eyes seeing nothing but red.
“You are losing it, Atharva!”
Atharva did not budge. He was looking out of his window. He kept doing that. Atharva never did that! He never didn’t listen to him! And the red around Samar’s vision darkened.
“What do you think you are doing? This girl, she is Aamir Haider’s daughter. How can you let her live here, let alone work with us?”
He still did not budge. Or turn. Samar tried reason — “We have the odds in our favour Atharva. We have penetrated more than 3000 panchayats, won 74% of the municipal and district councils, the grass-root is ours. This election will be ours, and that too by a majority. For a first time party! Don’t you see we are riding a high wave? ”
Atharva didn’t even flinch. Was this some soft spot opening for her poor little facade?
“Don’t waver from our goal. Don’t let that girl become a distraction.”
“Iram. Her name is Iram.”
Samar wanted to turn him around and punch his face.
“Iram Aamir Haider,” he sneered, holding himself back by superhuman effort. “That is her identity. Remember that. She doesn’t need anything from you. Kashmir needs it. Bring your hero complex out for Kashmir.”
Atharva was still closed off.
Samar turned around, pulled open the door and stormed down the alley and the stairs and ran smack into the spawn of Haider.
She acted startled, clutching a bottle of water to her chest. “Hi,” she tried to act coy.
Samar stared at her. She was so guileless in her appearance that there was no possibility that it was real.
Her face was Kashmiri, her cheeks red, her eyes brown.
A living, breathing Haider when a Chaturvedi had been massacred.
His nostrils flared. Aamir Haider had massacred Sia Chaturvedi. And then gone and pampered this daughter. How could he? How could his daughter still live, be happy, have the audacity to walk into this world, their world and insert herself here? In Atharva’s head?!
“Can I pass, please?” She smiled. And he stormed around her and down the rest of the stairs.
Samar went straight to Adil’s office, the space winding down around him. He still controlled himself and opened the door like a civilised man. Qureshi was there too. Perfect. There were three other junior members.
“All of you, out. I need a second with Adil and Qureshi.”
Within a moment, his command was obeyed. The door clicked shut, and he stared at the rest of his partners standing around the desk littered with computers.
“Are you both aware of what Atharva has done?”
“What?” Qureshi asked.
“So he has not asked either of you.”
“What?” Adil pushed.
“He has gotten Aamir Haider’s daughter as his speech writer and given her the attic to stay in!”
“We didn’t know she was his daughter until this morning.”
“Bullshit. Atharva knows Aamir Haider’s background just as well as I do. Did you know?” Samar pointed at Qureshi.
“I was informed just now when I came.”
“And you are ok with this?”
He looked lost for an argument. But then, Qureshi had no personal stakes in what had happened. He had not been a part of their platoon. He had not seen, experienced, or been massacred there.
“We are four founders,” Samar declared. “We veto when one of us goes mental. Veto her appointment and send her packing.”
“Samar.” Adil walked around his desk.
“No.” He held up his finger. “Don’t tell me you agree with Atharva.”
“Samar.” Adil kept advancing until his hands were on his shoulders. Samar stared into his friend’s eyes. “Years have passed. And I ran background personally. One more round is ongoing. She is clean. She was a child when that happened…”
Samar wanted to punch Adil’s face too.
“Chaturvedi was brutalised.” He said instead. And the way Adil’s face reared, it was a punch. “Bhaskara, Jasbir Singh, Yadav.” Samar reminded him, landing punch after punch of the men who had been brutalised, then killed.
“She did not do it.”
“And what guarantee is it that she is not working for her father’s party? Sayyid Butt is cunning enough to create a clean background before sending her in.”
Adil’s head hung, and he stepped back. “Samar, she was really good at what she did yesterday. I spoke to her. Really, she is… normal. Regular. And she has something in her. We are desperately in need of a good speech writer. Let’s see what happens.
Let’s give it a month. If she is a spy as you say, then she will start digging around sooner rather than later.
And then… think, we can use her against her own masters. ”
Samar glanced at Qureshi behind Adil’s back. He stood there — neutral. Quiet. Samar’s teeth ground. He had come here to turn 3-1 on Atharva. They had all turned on him for that girl instead.
He turned around, opened the door and stormed out. He wouldn't take this defeat lying down.