Chapter 52 #2
“Nothing is wrong with him. He will be smiling in a moment now.” Iram ferried him into the kitchen and Atharva ushered them to the hall. They settled there, and again Amaal chose the seat farthest from Samar.
“See, good as new.” Iram came bearing her son and left him towards her open arms but he was again dashing, like a Hot Wheels car, straight into Atharva’s legs.
“When did he become a Papa’s boy?” Amaal gaped.
“He was always a Baba’s boy,” Atharva sat him up on his lap and he pushed his body into Atharva’s armpit, sucking on the ice in his mouth.
Amaal smiled at the picture they made. “It’s surreal to see you like this. I mean, I saw you become a father and all. But to see you as a father after this long gap is like seeing it for the first time.”
Atharva chuckled.
“How is everything there?” Iram asked.
“Life-wise, all is good. Work-wise,” Amaal glanced at Atharva, apologetic and also a little guilty because she was dissing her current boss.
“Things could be better. But this government is hardly five months old. Law and order is one thing, but it takes time to bring things back to status quo too. The Dal Film Festival was a success last month. Did you see the photos and videos I sent you,” she asked Atharva.
“You worked very hard on it and I wanted you to be the first to know that we managed to get Cannes Film Festival to cover it. Fifty-five old Indian classics were screened over three weeks. And we got more locals than tourists, which was a feat in the month of September.”
Atharva smiled.
“And how is the house?” Iram cued, though she had asked her that over their last video call. “Begumjaan told me you oversaw the last cleanup.”
“It is in top condition,” Amaal answered what she had then. “There was a short circuit in the downstairs bathroom but it’s been taken care of. Ada came to collect her certificates from your father’s house…”
“Yes. She wants to apply for an internship.”
“Isn’t she coming here after her course?”
“She is still thinking. She came to us during her Navratri break. Now for Diwali, they are going on a trip to Hampi.”
Amaal glanced at Atharva. “She does not have security anymore.”
“I am aware.”
Amaal frowned. “She is no more in the scope of threat but…”
“Mirza takes care of it,” Atharva stated.
“But he is in Srinagar.”
“It’s a need-basis thing.”
Amaal sat back. And silence pervaded the hall. Only Yathaarth’s quiet suckling noises remained.
“Qureshi wants to talk to you,” Samar broke the silence.
Amaal glanced at him. For the first time since she had sat down here.
He looked… good. In one of his white shirts, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his burn scars visible, the neck of the shirt open too, giving a peek into the corner of his throat where some graft skin showed.
His jaw was stubbled, his face fuller than it had been last. He looked healthy, like the ordeal of last year had finally been set behind him.
“He has my number.” Atharva’s voice made her stop ogling Samar.
“He wants to talk face-to-face.”
Back to Samar.
Amaal didn’t hear half the conversation that went on between them, because she couldn’t help but debate if this man would be hers again.
The distance of the last six months was so deep and their communication so scant, that she did not know what would happen.
Worse, she was scared to find out. She had never been scared of anything in her entire life.
Except for that Badamwari firing. And his accident.
But those were momentary scares, come and gone within a span of hours, days.
This had been lingering in the back of her mind for a long time.
“Atharva, I don’t want to sound like his advocate but the four of us have to come to the table at some point. The party cannot run like this.” Samar’s deep, authoritative voice made her sit up. She moved her eyes away from his face.
“I don’t have a seat at the table in Kashmir anymore. Not until I am persona non grata there. As far as HDP is concerned, I am doing what you want me to do. I don’t see what more I can do.”
“You are doing a whole lot of party building here so do not turn it on me. I gave you the base to restart…”
Her eyes widened. She looked at Samar, but he had trailed at that point, thank god.
“I thank you for the opportunity,” Atharva said curtly.
“Fuck, I did not mean it like that. You know I did not mean it like that. This is your party too.”
Atharva nodded. “Try and keep the F word in check now. He is picking up,” he nodded to his son.
“I did not mean it, Atharva. I swear I did not. I just need KDP to come together again.”
“I know.”
“We can have the meeting here. You, me, Adil, Zorji and Qureshi. Low level, informal. But things need to start rolling again. We have panchayat elections next year in Kashmir and Ladakh. Party workers need your support and strategy.”
“I thought my MLAs are now Qureshi’s.”
“Don’t act ignorant. MLAs left, but base-level workers are still sympathetic towards you.”
“Listen, I cannot come there. Indefinitely. There is no point in giving false hope to anybody. Also, I don’t want to create more problems for myself or my family by getting involved in anything in Kashmir right now.
If I am ordered to remain out of the state, I will make sure I remain out and not give the opposition, the government or the SIT any opportunity to add onto my sentence.
I suggest you take Adil for strategising.
Make Sonam his deputy. He has good insights and ideas both. ”
The mood of the room tanked.
This time, Iram lifted it — “Let’s move to the dining table. Daniyal will be home soon, we can start eating then.”
————————————————————
Amaal sucked the malai kulfi stick, trying and failing to compare it to Panditji’s ice cream. How long had it been since they had visited him? Two years?
“So?” Iram asked, leading her down the backyard of the bungalow.
The grass here had dried up in patches. Amaal stepped on a few spots, sensing hard mud.
She turned to tell Iram that she needed to air it but found her eyes on the glass window that gave them a clear view of the inside of the house.
Daniyal and Yathaarth were wrestling on the floor, Samar and Atharva sitting on the sofa, laughing at something.
“So what?” Amaal bit into the kulfi. “Do you realise you are raising a toddler and a teenager all at once?”
“I never think about it in those terms,” Iram murmured. “It’s like Daniyal was always here. And he is such a good boy to live with. He has his quirks and his days. But… how to say it? They are all ours too. Atharva and he are so close. Maha also wants to come stay here, you know?”
“Sarah told me. She wants to study hard and go to Dani bhai’s college so she can come live with you guys.”
Iram shook her head, continuing their walk.
“How is your book coming about?”
“Releasing this week.”
“What?” Amaal gasped. “How do I not know this?”
“Because we are not doing a big release event or anything.”
“Why?” She stopped in her tracks. “Iram, if it’s because of Atharva’s externment then let me tell you that you are not affected by that. And your book will get a pan-India, a pan-world release…”
Iram’s face softened — “It’s not just that. There are multiple reasons.”
“You can’t do this to your career.”
“Do what?”
“Scale down like this.”
“On the contrary, this book is going into a 10,000-copy first edition print. Ten times Rescuing Heaven.”
“That’s… you deserve the fame, Iram.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Why?”
“I never wanted it, Amaal. Never vied for it. It was good. The book tours, the events, the talks. But after what has happened, to me and to Atharva, I want to stay on the low. I don’t want any attention on us.”
“You are sacrificing your career for Atharva.”
“No. I am strengthening my career into a more solid base for Atharva, and me and the family. Every release will bring five minutes of fame, and considering what we have seen, the bad kind is greater than the good kind. At this point, it will certainly be. That’s what Sherry anticipates too.
So why chase it? The focus must be on the book, not on who wrote it. ”
Amaal stared at her, speechless.
“And,” Iram continued. “If I channel those marketing efforts into writing instead, I can have my third book out sooner and it will mean a faster backlist, better revenue and a stronger base for us.”
Amaal did not agree.
“Don’t worry, you’ll still get a signed copy which you will not read.”
“Because I will keep it in a vacuum box and auction it for crores after ten years.”
Iram chuckled, turning and resuming their walk back.
“Iram?”
“Hmm?”
“Is everything ok financially? I don’t have that much to help with but, are you all fine?”
“We are fine. Thank you for asking. Atharva shamelessly says that his wife is strong enough to run the house single-handedly. Which is crazy, because he manages it all so effortlessly. But Arth is growing, our goals are shifting as a family as we move from his baby phase into his schooling phase. Expenses just keep multiplying as kids grow.”
“Either have kids, or buy couture. Can’t do both,” Amaal shrugged, scared of the life she had so badly begun coveting and wondering if it was even possible.
“That’s enough about me. What is happening with you and Samar?”
“Nothing is happening.”
“Weren’t you two together? Didn’t you cry and stick yourself to his bedside for months after his accident?”
“He recovered then.”
“Amaal.”
“I am serious.”
Stop asking. Please.
“So am I. Did he say he did not want to get married?”
“No.”
He said — Let’s get married to obtain a nikahnama so that we can continue living together.
“That means he wants to get married?”
Amaal opened her mouth and let out a breath. It condensed in front of her mouth. And she finally uttered the words that she had not dared utter even to herself.
“Samar is not a man I can live with.”
“But you love him.”
“He is good to love from afar. You saw how he is. That can be acceptable once, twice, maybe three times. As friends from afar, you can even forgive that behaviour. But living a lifetime with that? I know where he comes from, I see his habits, his shortcomings, his compulsions, even his suffering. I can accept all of that. Today, I know I will be able to live with it because love is young and everything is rosy. But Iram, we get bored of a phone within a month. Nothing is novel forever. And when novelty wears off, I do not want to scream back at him after his nonsense. I don’t want it to become a daily ritual between us. It’s not cute every time.”
The novelty had worn off, and she had experienced what life would be like with him on the bad days. And she had seen enough of life to know that it was more bad days than good, more neutral days than bad.
“Did you tell him all this?”
She shook her head.
“Why?”
“That man lives on the precipice of guilt and self-loathing. You want me to add onto it?”
She wanted to live with him, be with him, but could not. And she could not tell him this, nor hear it back from him. What a mess they had made!
“But if you are not committing to him then it’s anyway adding onto it.”
“It’s not as if he has asked me to commit.”
“You just said he wants to get married.”
“He has just spoken about settling. Believe it or not, he is planning to settle here in Shimla.”
“Of course he is, he is the President of HDP and basically its founder.”
“Not for that.”
They stopped, eyes on each other.
Iram’s eyes widened — “You can’t be serious. For us?”
Amaal nodded. “Professionally, they are going through a tough time. I know Samar can be a selfish, smug asshole and sometimes he is that to Atharva. The ego wars are real. But I also know that he cannot survive without Atharva.”
Still can’t.
“As I said, he has talked about getting a house here. He can’t buy because he doesn’t hold a domicile but his plans are elaborate.”
That had been a small little scary clue for her. Once he had asked her if they could have two homes. And now, he had a house here — rented, but grand. And nothing about it except its address was known to her.
“And he is discussing them with you.” Iram became the devil’s advocate for her unvoiced thoughts. “Which means he is seeing you in them. Ask him, Amaal. And then talk to him.”
“What’s the hurry?”
“Trust me, time passes in a blink. Now, when I look at the years I spent in our home in Srinagar, I feel like they were as short as a few weeks. I did not appreciate our home enough. I did not appreciate the Atharva I got in that home enough. I didn’t appreciate my home enough.
Things pass, Amaal. You have seen things pass us by.
Don’t wait. If he is in the right space, talk it out.
Whatever the outcome may be — marry or don’t, that is your decision.
And yes, I agree with you. Some behaviours are acceptable momentarily but not as a habit.
But it was you who told me once that in work, like in any relationship, you have to accept the bad with the good.
But until you tell him that’s your hurdle to him, you won’t know if he is ready to cross it for you. ”
“Hmm…” Amaal sucked on her kulfi quietly. And Iram did not ask anything more, sensing her unease.
“Amaal?” Samar’s holler made her feet freeze. They turned. And there he was, on the kitchen door.
“Are you ready to go?”
Her stomach clenched.
“I am staying here tonight.” She answered.
He stepped through the door and was striding towards her. Her heart began to thud and everything south of her stomach froze.
“You both talk,” Iram-the-traitor chimed. “I’ll head back inside.”
Samar stepped into her place, and his shoulders covered the world for her. Amaal kept her eyes there. On the breadth of his shoulders.
“Look here.”
She did.
“You are coming home with me.”
Her breath wouldn’t come.
His answer could not be negative. If he was looking at her like that, his answer could not be negative. Amaal felt her chest fluttering, flying, too light to be held steady.
“Tell Iram that you are not staying here.”
Amaal hoped her face wasn’t too flushed, or if it was, the darkness would cover it. She hoped her voice wasn’t shaking too much as she called out — “Iram!”
She didn’t even turn.
“I am not staying here.”
Her traitor friend just stepped inside her kitchen and closed the door.