Chapter 33
Tectonic plates under KDP were shifting. An assassination attempt was made on Atharva in Jammu, he flew out to meet the Union Home Minister — Yogesh Patel of Janta Party in Delhi, and suddenly KDP was thinking of allying with Janta Party.
Kashmir Development Party, which had looked strong enough to form an independent government only two months ago, before Iram Haider arrived, was now reduced to garner post-poll support in the eventuality that the results tanked and went towards Awaami.
Sufiyaan Sheikh as the Chief Minister of Jammu on the other, he was hounded by Sayyid Butt because…
traitor. On the one hand, where he saw an alliance with the ruling central government as a major boost for their work in the valley, on the other, he foresaw the practical challenges of working with a new set of people, ministers and members from another party.
The anticipation of that friction gave him sleepless nights.
He wasn’t a man built to work well with strangers.
And while nobody could predict if KDP’s decision to tie up with Janta Party was right, one fine day Samar discovered why it had been made.
Adil’s incessant evasion about the tapes finally ended. From “I haven’t gotten the time to do it,” “The files have gotten corrupted,” and “You broke my equipment, asshole,” Adil finally announced that the recordings were permanently damaged.
“They are irretrievable now.”
And, Atharva changed the password of the office safe. The one that belonged to all four of them.
It was on a bright summer mid-morning that Samar found himself in Atharva’s house, at a time when neither Atharva nor Iram were home.
“Saab aur Bhabhi nahi hai[99],” Shiva droned as he strode into the hall.
“Office toh hai na.” Samar droned back, turning and walking towards the alley, files in hand. “Atharva ko bolna yeh office mein rakh ke jaa raha hoon.[100]”
Samar turned the handle, pushed open the door and stared at the office.
Light flooded in, bringing in all that was gone — the good old days.
He closed the door, locked it soundlessly and strode to the safe behind Atharva’s desk.
The changed password had been communicated to all of them.
Samar entered it. The safe beeped ERROR.
Samar’s suspicion turned stronger. Atharva wanted them to enter the wrong password, confront an ERROR, contact him and have him in the room when they opened, if they did.
Samar had another minute before Shiva turned suspicious. And in that moment, he recalled the last time he had seen Atharva use the safe a week ago to retrieve bank locker keys. His arm had moved in the same old pattern. Old password. But he had said he had updated the password before that…
Like a flash of lightning, one of Atharva’s craziest strategies whizzed past him.
Update a manual for all, let it slip through the cracks, and go back to the old one.
Samar input the old password. The safe whirred.
He pulled the door open.
Everything was as it is. Nothing out of place.
Samar memorised the positions, and began taking everything out.
Bank locker keys, insurance papers, policy jackets, party papers, ledgers of investments, stacks of cash.
And there it was, a hard disk cover he had never seen before, stacked behind boxes of gold bars.
He opened it, and found a hard disk inside.
When the entire locker was emptied, and nothing else came out as suspicious as this, Samar began packing it up.
In a minute, he had packed it like he had found it.
He closed it, stuffed the hard disk under his shirt and pulled out his phone.
He toggled it to silent, reduced the brightness and plastered it to his ear, stalking out of the room.
“…Yes, get it done.” He closed the door and stood in the alley, nodding, humming, pretending he was on call. Shiva’s eyes were on him, and he continued to stand there, at the door, whiling time.
“No,” he droned, then strolled to and fro in the alley. When a good minute had passed, Samar ended the call. He pocketed his mobile and walked out of the house. Probably for the last time.
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“Haider saab, bohot arse ke baad humara radio connect kiya. Copy?”
“Copy that. Yahan problems badh rahi thi, army roz checking ke liye ghar par aa padti hai. Iske baad aapse phir kab baat kar paaye, maloom nahin. Shamsuddin saab ko keh dijiyega ki abhi toh jung ki baat bhul hi jaaye.”
“Hume maloom hai. Kashmir ke Assembly elections radd kar diye gaye hai. Aap ki party ke jeetne ke toh waise bhi dur-dur tak koi aasar nahi the.”
“Hume waqt ki zaroorat hai, Kashmiri awaam yakeen karna bhool gayi hai, unka yakeen jeetne mein kuch waqt toh jaayega.”
“Aur jo funding humne bheji hai woh? Hume uske returns kab milenge?”
“Jald hi, bohot jald. Kashmir ka yeh hissa bhi azad hoga aur aapko hi sartaaj maanega. Bas abhi ke liye humein sab contact cease karna hoga.”
“Arey, Haider saab, ghabraiye mat. Balki iss baar hume koi jaldi nahin hai returns ki. Plans change kar diye gaye hai. Ab hum longterm game khelenge, jo pehle soch ke rakhi thi. Yaad hai naa aapko?”
“Yaad hai.”
“Toh humaare yahaan se ghazal qubool karein. Ab wohi aapki azaadi ka naya zariya hai.”
“Abhi nahin. Masla ho jaayega. Aapko waqt aur taariq yahan se bhejenge.”
“Hum toh parcel bhej chuke. Mithra Punim par aapka hoga.”
“Mithra Punim bohot jaldi hai. Main abhi nahi rakh sakta, yahan ke haalat kharaab hai.”
“Rakhna toh padega. Yeh shurwaat hai, Janaab. Abhi se waada-khilaafi kar baithein?”
“Aisi baat nahi hain, aap samjhe toh….”
“Kashmir azaad chahte hai yaa nahi?”
“Haan.”
“Toh phir ghazal rakhiye mat par rakhwaiyen. Yahi aapko azaadi dilayegi. Over and out.”[101]
Samar rewound, played again, writing down his deductions.
Election null and void + Rigged in favour of Awaami? - Year 1990
Ghazal - Azadi from PAK to IND
On Mithra Punim
“Janab yahaan ke haalaat bohot naazuk hai. There is insurgency. Election ke baad militancy ka kabza ho chukka hai.”
Insurgency = easy gateway?
Infiltration?
“Aur yahi sahi waqt hai. Woh kal raat sarhad par karenge. Aapko Kaali Chowk par unse apni azaadi lekar unhe Jammu bhejna hoga.”
Kaali Chowk
“Khatra bohot hai. Nahi, unko main Jammu tak nahi bhej paunga….military har jagah tainat hai.”
“Haider sahab! Khatre ke bina kaunsi jung jeeti gayi hai? In logon ko Jammu tak ka rasta aap banakar denge. Tohfa aap rakh lenge.”
Tohfa?
“Mai nahi rakh sakta.”
“Humari deal hui hai.”
“Lekin main… theek hai. Main use nahi rakhoonga. Sheikh ke hawaale kar doonga.”
“Lekin uska mustakvil wohi hona chahiye jo humne chaha tha.”
“Insha Allah, hoga.”[102]
Mustakvil
Mustakvil, mustakvil, future… whose future?
Sufiyaan Sheikh
Samar stiled.
His mind went blank.
Static.
And then it kickstarted with the possibilities of what this pointed at.
Fuck.
His hand reached for his mobile, and he pressed his first Favourites contact. The call was cut, and Faris called back.
“Hello…”
“I need you,” Samar said. “Out of the militia. You may not be able to return.”
A pause. Then — “Ok.”
————————————————————
He was a doctor. A military surgeon. Missions for him were nothing but saving the human line of their attack. He did not think beyond bodies, blood, oxygen, suction. Had never needed to.
Before KDP.
And before Iram Aamir Haider.
Samar watched KDP sweep the 2014 Jammu Kashmir Legislative Assembly Elections and Aamir Haider tarnish his messiah reputation in a single breath. He watched it on his mobile, in a taxi, in Delhi, far away from the house where the entire senior leadership of KDP had gathered.
For him, it wasn’t a house worth being in anymore.
“Humaare yahaan se ghazal qubool karein… Abhi nahin. Masla ho jaayega. Aapko waqt aur taariq yahan se bhejenge.”
The live television streaming on his mobile played the recording on loop.
“What you just heard is a classified radio exchange between the Late Aamir Haider of Awaami Party and an unidentified terrorist handler from across the border,” the reporter announced.
“Yes, you are right, we here at Times Kashmir are the first to break this news to our viewers! From the voice identification evidence that we have just received from our source, this is Aamir Haider. And it sounds suspiciously like treason.”
Samar swiped up the calls that were hanging up his screen. Adil, Qureshi, Amaal, Fahad. Jammu leaders, his MLAs who had won, members, media coordinator from Udhampur. All at once. He had won Udhampur with a resounding margin of thirty-six thousand votes. He continued to watch.
“From our very credible sources, we have been informed that this conspiracy runs deeper than anyone can imagine. And it comes at the perfect time because it changes everything. The child in question, who was infiltrated from across the border, is said to be the adopted son of Mohsin Sheikh — Sufiyaan Sheikh. You can see the birth certificate of Sheikh on your screens, and as per our sources, these adoption papers are forged. This orphanage does not exist… and breaking on Times Kashmir is the final result of the J&K Legislative Election.”
Samar sat up, pushing his specs higher on his nose.
KDP (49) | Awaami (20) | Janta Party (11) | Others (7)
“KDP has crossed the majority on its own! This is unprecedented in the modern history of this state, in an election that is not tampered with, or rigged, with a voter turnout that has broken all records. Atharva Singh Kaul-led Kashmir Development Party is set to form its first government in Jammu & Kashmir and the state is set to swear in its first Pundit, ex-military Chief Minister. What a day to be alive in India! What a day!”
Samar switched streams, and another local news channel was still talking about Aamir Haider.