Chapter 47 #2
“Just because we are living together doesn't mean I’ll go easy on you.” She held the knife up.
“You still don’t know what living together means,” he circled her wrist with his free hand. “So put it down.”
Her eyes widened, but she slammed her knife blade on his. “In your dreams.”
“This is not a pain relief spray.” He warned.
“You are asking for it.” She pushed on, advancing on him. He stepped back, smiling, letting her dominate his blade. As long as she didn’t start any mad movements that could hurt her, he would play along.
“Do you know what I can do with this?” He asked, letting her advance enough to back him into a corner.
“You are losing,” she pushed the blade and he let his knife tip back. “Surrender and give me your knife.”
“You’ll cut your fruit with two knives?”
“I’ll cut my fruits with the winning knife.”
“That is if you’ll win,” he grabbed her wrist and turned her in time to snatch the knife from her hand and throw both their blades to the platform, locking her in the crook of his arm.
“Samar!” He laughed, holding her hands locked in front of her throat and dipping his head to kiss her neck.
She fought him but he had gotten strong enough to hold his own.
And he had a corner behind his back to support him.
“I am going easy on you because of your recovery…” She tried breaking from his chokehold with all her might.
“Hmm…” he smiled, dipping his nose to her cheek and pressing a kiss there. She vibrated, making sounds that he hoped were pleasure but were actually her desperation to win. Samar chuckled, baring his teeth and pressing them into the line of her jaw. She gasped.
“Can you not go today?” He lapped the spot.
“And what will I do here? Play knife-fight with you?”
“Combat.” He vibrated, pressing his mouth into her hair. “We can… do other things.”
“Like what? Fight? Listen to your taunts? See how well you can…”
“Quiet.” He spun her and caught her waist, feeling her palms slap on his chest. All the playfulness flew out of her and she began to retreat her hands.
“Keep them.”
Amaal’s eyes met his, and the wariness there was so vulnerable. She had kept up a hard shell around her all these days, letting him heal at his pace and showing up like a respectful roommate only.
“Stay.” He nodded at her hands. She pressed them onto his cotton T-shirt.
The right side was smooth, clean skin, the left side was burned, uneven — a crater.
He knew she could feel it through the cloth.
But he had also gained some weight and muscle again, and even though his skin was flaccid, it had begun to feel fuller.
He flexed his chest. And Amaal’s fingers curled into his T-shirt.
“Can I…” she brought her eyes down to his chest, then back up to him. He didn’t know what she was asking for but he couldn’t say no.
“Hmm.”
Her brows knitted together, and her head lowered until her face was on his chest, over the left burned pec. And then he felt it, her mouth pressing there. Over the burned skin. Over the flex of muscle. Over his heart. It began to beat wildly.
She nuzzled her nose there, her breath exhaling hot and heavy. “Does it feel like anything?”
“The skin, no. The parts under it, yes.” He covered her hand with his and pressed. “Heartbeat going up.”
Amaal’s face tipped back and it was red, smiling, shy, proud. “Daaxsaab….”
Her mobile rang, taking her out of his arms. Samar held the wall and limped forward, pushing behind her as she pressed her mobile to her ear.
“Hello?”
He pushed the lock of hair behind her ear and away from her mobile, getting elbowed. He smirked.
“Are you serious? When?!”
Samar stilled. He came in front of her and leaned on the platform, raising his eyebrows.
“I’m on my way.” She ended the call and began texting. “The one day I get in after lunch and…”
“What happened?”
She whirled to run. “I have to go, it’s an emergency.”
“Amaal!” He caught her elbow and twirled her. “What emergency?”
“Usama Aziz has been neutralised in an encounter.”
His eyes widened. “Was it planned? You knew an operation was going on?”
“No, I didn’t know about it.”
“Atharva didn’t tell you?”
“Apparently even he didn’t know.”
“But how? He would have had to…”
“We didn’t know about it!”
“Who killed him? The army or the J&K Police?”
“I don’t know, Samar. But I need to be there like, yesterday!” She pulled her elbow out of his hold and moved down the corridor.
“I don’t believe Atharva wouldn’t know about it!” Samar asserted. This was huge. He had eyes in the back and sides of his head. “I’m sure he ordered whatever this is…”
“I don’t have any answers, Samar.” She came back barreling down the hall with her purse. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Do you anyway have a time of coming back?”
Amaal froze at the door. She gaped at him. Then pulled the door open, stepped out, and banged it shut. Samar limped around the house and checked the horizontal surfaces of the kitchen and the hall. No mobile. She had taken it.
————————————————————
He changed into his workout gear — one of his pair of cotton shorts that were loose and airy, and nothing else.
He rolled out the yoga mat in the hall and turned the fan to full.
The warmth of the dusk was excruciating after how it had drizzled today.
It looked like an outpour was on its way.
He hadn’t felt affected by extreme temperatures earlier, but now the medicines and these itching grafts were making it all a living hell.
The thought of itching made him reflexively reach for his chest but he held his fingers back. Instead of nails, he used his knuckles to soothe the itch.
“Fucking hell.” He stood with his feet apart and began neck warmups.
His eyes reached the wall clock. Dr. Mann was ten minutes late.
He was never late. Samar continued with his warmups, confident in holding his own weight up as he moved from neck to shoulders to arms that he could hold at 70 degrees with a resistance band.
His back was still stiff and unyielding so he left that to Dr. Mann, moving onto his waist and knees.
He needed to start doing some sort of cardio soon.
It would open up his movements like nothing else, and also help his knees.
He made a mental note to consult Dr. Mann when his mobile buzzed. Samar abandoned the resistance band and picked it up. “Yes, Dr. Mann?”
“Dr. Dixit, I won’t be able to make it today. There’s curfew in my area…”
“Your clinic?”
“Yes, I am stuck here. They are saying some militant was killed and it’s going to get violent.”
“Hmm. Are you safe there?”
“For now, yes. I’m sure the government will do something…”
“Yes,” Samar said. “Let me ask around and get back to you. In the meantime, stay put. If a curfew is put then it must be to prevent anything bad.”
“Exactly my thoughts.”
Samar ended the call and switched to Amaal. The ringer went on and on. He was about to cut it when she picked it up.
“Hello? Are you ok?”
“Yes, why?”
“You never call unless there’s something wrong…”
“I’m ok, how is everything there?” He hesitated. “Can you talk for a minute?”
“Hang on…” He heard her murmurs in the background. “…call him, now… of course now as in now!” She screamed at somebody. “Get hold of the minutes copy first.”
“Yes.” Amaal came back on. “Everything is not ok here. This situation with Usama is evolving and… one sec…”
Again she was off, murmurs and yells. Even in this grave moment, Samar smiled, missing that time of being under her terror as their Media Head.
They used to fight then too, but those fights weren’t like now.
They were… innocent. Nowadays, they were thorns — from his side.
And resistance, rightly so, from her side.
“Sorry,” she came back. “I won’t be back home tonight mostly. Eat and go to sleep on time…”
“How will you come back home when you do?”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t want you to drive home alone. They are putting curfews everywhere. I can drive to get you… My knees are better.”
“No, no, stay put. Don’t come. I’ll figure something out. Maybe catch a ride with Adil and his convoy.”
“Do I need to call Atharva and arrange something?”
“No!” She yelled. “He is swamped right now and I am not a kid.”
“Amaal.”
“Samar, I am fine, I will call you if there is no other alternative.”
“I am awake.” He told her.
“No, go to sleep. You need sleep to recover.”
Samar huffed. “Is it long-term?”
Silence.
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm… Amaal?”
Silence.
“I am sorry.”
She sighed.
“It’s ok. I have to go, bye.”
Samar set his mobile down on the dining table and stared at the dark sky. The sun had set and the clouds were rumbling. He picked up his mobile again and dialled a number he hadn’t touched in months.
“Hello?”
“Faris.” Samar enunciated. “What’s going on?”
A pause. He moved away from whatever noisy space he had occupied earlier.
“It looks planned from long before. They have only changed the war cry now to bring Shahid Usama’s name into it. Money is starting to exchange hands, stone pelting boys are being called for meetings. This time everything is happening on WhatsApp. I am sending you the videos.”
“What is the militia doing?”
“I haven’t gotten any orders yet.”
“Hmm. You can keep everyone on standby. If something goes wrong at night.” Meaning: be alert, something will definitely go wrong at night. It always does.
“Yes.”
The call ended, and Samar’s instinct was to call Atharva. But he stopped. Atharva was swamped, as he would be in such a scenario, with the state up in a riot and a small son to take care of singlehandedly.
There was still no hope in sight of Iram returning, no leads, no traces. Maybe she had passed away. That was the only logical answer. For all that Samar had held against her, now he knew that she valued Atharva. And she would not abandon her newborn baby like that.
Atharva was caught in a tight place, neither able to grieve his wife, nor able to find her. And now caught in this.
Samar would not swap places with him today for anything.
He texted Atharva.
SAMAR
If you need anything, I can work
I can command the militia if you need me to right now.
No response.
————————————————————
The opening and closing of the main door made him startle awake. Samar sat up, pushing his feet down from the sofa and rubbing his face. It was after 3, the rain pouring outside.
“Amaal?”
She came rustling into the hall, shaking her hair out. “You are here? Why did you sleep on the sofa?” She whispered, coming and wrapping her hand around his arm. “Come on, go to bed.”
He squinted up at her — “What happened?”
She looked devastated.
Blue eyes stared at him, locks of wet hair dripping down over him. He pushed her hair behind her shoulder and gripped the back of her neck. “Tell me.” Samar pulled her down beside him. Her eyes filled up. “Amaal?”
She threw herself into his neck. “She is alive.”
Samar stilled.
Amaal broke down into his skin. “Oh god, I can’t… it’s been such a day and… she is alive. She is alive… oh my god…”
He wrapped his arm around her. Her hands came to his neck and she hung on. “I don’t know how he will bring her back, it’s hell knowing it and being so helpless to do anything right away! I can’t imagine Atharva’s state right now.”
“Why?”
“She is in PoK!” Amaal wept. “The fool! And Atharva wants to go after her himself! He is not even…” She stilled. Her body tightened.
Samar pulled her back — “What happened?”
Her mouth opened, then closed. She lowered her eyelashes. And he understood.
“It’s supposed to be classified.”
She nodded, not looking him in the eye.
“Look here.” He palmed the base of her chin and raised her face. She stared at him, scared.
“It’s ok… As long as she is not there working against Atharva or India.”
Amaal shook her head violently. “No!”
“Ok. Then it’s ok. Now relax. You didn’t say anything. I did’t hear this.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” He palmed the back of her head. “You are drenched. Dry yourself. I will heat up dinner.”
“I just want to sleep.”
“There is soup.”
“You made soup?”
“The cook made it.”
“She doesn’t know how to make soup.”
“I showed her a YouTube video.”
“Is this sorry soup?”
He shrugged.
Amaal’s eyes shone a little lighter. “Which soup?”
“Minestrone.”
She glanced at the clock — “It’s about to be morning.”
“Soup and pepper for breakfast opens all sinuses.” He tapped the space where her dimple would be if she smiled. She smiled, and dented his finger in, her head going limp on his shoulder.
“Go and dry yourself. Change. Eat quickly and sleep. What time do you have to go tomorrow?”
“As early as possible,” she yawned.
“Then come on, dinner and breakfast in one meal, have coffee in the morning and go.”
She nodded. Samar pushed her up to her feet and led her to the bathroom as he himself turned to the kitchen. Long days and longer nights awaited them. He just hoped he found something to do in between those. And kept his head and tongue steady for her.
He checked his mobile. Atharva hadn’t reverted.