Chapter 27 #3
“You are very good at taking care of your people. You give me your car keys when you are sure I will get drunk and come in some random car, you bully Atharva into staying in the hospital bed when you know he might get smoke poisoning and he is being a stubborn bull, you,” her brows rose, “treat old ice cream sellers for free.”
Samar swallowed.
“Are we gathered here to read your eulogy or something? Why am I waxing poetic about you?”
“That’s it? Nothing more before they light my pyre?” He asked. Amaal’s eyes widened — “Your ability to turn even a funeral into a joke is commendable. But yeah, that’s it. You have Hmmed me away from all other important things.”
“Have I?”
“Need I remind you of the conversation we had before you left for Ladakh?”
His smile dropped. As did hers. He looked down at the weeds popping up between his shoes. Stubborn things.
“Samar?”
“Hmm?” He looked up, adjusting his specs.
“What’s troubling you?”
He shook his head. “The last few days.”
“It’s getting better. Atharva recovered in no time, Iram is home and getting better, and KDP…”
“Don’t even remind me,” he huffed.
“The campaign is derailed big time,” Amaal agreed. “But it’s not lost.”
“Sympathy is tipping the next survey towards Sufiyaan Sheikh and Awaami.”
“And we still have a good long month to tip it back in our favour. Swing constituencies are not lost yet.”
“Hmm.”
Her nose scrunched up, and he made the sound again, nodding his head.
“Sometimes I think you only Hmm to irritate me. Then I realise that I am not that important to you.”
“You realise wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
He blinked, his mind stuck on what he had just said.
“I Hmm to everyone,” he said instead.
“Not as much as you do to me.”
Samar hadn’t counted his Hmms, but maybe she was right.
“You had a long day?” He roved his eyes over her face. It was bright, but tired.
“I have been getting very little sleep…” she yawned.
“Why?”
“I was sleeping with Iram,” she rubbed her eyes, smiling. “She tried so hard not to wake me and that is why I always woke up when she was coughing and trying to hold it in. She thinks she can bear it all alone…”
“Why is she staying in that house?”
“Have you heard the decibel level of this house?”
“Hmm.”
Her nose scrunched up again.
“You are not sleeping with her today?”
“Her sister is here.”
“She has a sister?”
“Adopted sister. They lived together in Leh at her landlady’s house. Ada. She is young, but she can take care of Iram.”
“Hmm.”
“Ok, bye.” She reached out and grabbed the shutter handles.
“What happened?”
“One more Hmm and you are out.”
“I am already out.”
She grit her teeth behind her pout, looking sweet while trying to snarl.
“You understood what I meant.”
“Did I?”
“You are so dumb!”
His brows rose, amusement like he had never felt before shooting through his blood. Samar stepped up — “You are calling your boss dumb?”
“You cannot fire me.”
“I can do other stuff.”
She stilled, her eyes staring into his. Her breath swelled in front of him, her face flushed under the moon, and he stood there being the reason. Did he even deserve to be the reason?
Amaal’s nose scrunched again, this time trying to sniff — “What’s that smell?”
“What smell?”
She grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. He tried to tug back but she sniffed — “You smoked?”
Samar took three steps back.
“You smoked?!”
“No… I…”
“Don’t lie. Either you smoked or you were with people who were smoking close to you.”
“The latter.” It wasn’t a complete lie; Atharva was smoking very close to him. Samar glanced at her through his eyelashes. How could he let her see something in him that appalled her?
“Who?”
“Who what?”
“Who was smoking close to you?”
Atharva. But he couldn’t say it to her.
“An old friend.”
“From SFF?”
He nodded.
“You meet them still?”
“Hmm.”
“What do you’ll talk about when you meet?”
“What kind of a question is that?”
“Like… do you talk about your old days, the memories? Or do you talk about what’s going on right now in your lives? I, for example, when I meet college friends, I talk about the memories more than what’s going on.”
“This life is that boring for you?
“On the contrary! It’s the most fun I have had. But my friends wouldn’t understand this brand of fun. For them, 15-hour workdays are not fun. Because they don’t have the passion that I have or the people and goals that I have.”
“You still want to build your own house in Kashmir?”
“With a hammock between two trees, preferably apple trees.”
Samar smiled. “I have a house in Udhampur.”
“Really? Like a house-house or a flat?”
“House. With a garden.”
“Who lives there?”
“No one.”
“Do you go there?”
“Haven’t been in some years.”
“Not even when you are in Jammu on long tours?”
He shook his head. He did not like to venture there unless completely unavoidable.
“Does it have apple trees?”
“No, there are peru trees. And they smell very nice in season. They also double up as great remedies for joint pain and Vitamin C supplements…”
“Ok, Daaxsaab, keep that extra information to yourself.”
“If you ate peru and chewed peru leaves, you would recover quicker from your next bout of malaria.”
“You are wishing malaria upon me?”
“I am being practical and pointing out that malaria is known to relapse in susceptible individuals such as you.”
“Just because I have had malaria thrice in the last four years?”
“Every time in a particular season. Yes.”
“Who made you a doctor? You can’t even console a patient!”
“My patients were tough, stubborn bulls.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“Soldiers like Atharva.”
She grinned, suppressing a yawn. Samar glanced at the clock on her wall. “It’s late. Go to sleep.”
“Hmm…” she let the yawn tear her round mouth open, slits of eyes staring at him — “Are you in or out tomorrow?”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
“Mostly out.”
“Hmm.”
Samar stared at her, then scrunched his nose like her. Her mouth dropped open. He did not wait for the next chain of reactions, already appalled at this Romeo behaviour. He turned and walked away.
“Why did you come here, though?”
He only raised one hand and waved, trying not to smile to himself.