Chapter 54
It was raining, snowing and hailing hard. Samar ran inside the door of his house and tore off his windcheater. The day just wasn’t rising today. He winced, feeling the chill in the creaks of his bones. This would be an annual thing now, winter and monsoon seasons making life hell for his body.
This one was both — February snow that had turned into a deluge down south.
He hung up his windcheater and ran his fingers through his hair, dripping hail that was melting in rivulets from the heat of the hall.
He nodded, pulling his mobile out of his pocket and the soaking plastic pouch.
He should have just stayed put this morning.
Meetings could wait. He frowned at the missed calls.
His mobile, left unattended, was never without missed calls, but these were followed by messages from one single number. He clicked it and read.
His screen blacked out and lit up.
Atharva Calling…
He swiped it.
“Samar?”
“There’s been a cloudburst in Sirmaur!” He relayed, not having any other information as he hadn’t been able to read the rest of the messages.
“Yes, I just got a call from there. Who do we have there?
“Vikram Rana.”
“Aside from him?”
“About thirty odd HDP workers, most are middle-aged.”
“Hmm… This is your time to step up.”
“We should go. Not just me. I want you too. Can you come? I know you have Iram and Arth at home but I thought you would…”
“I am leaving in 15 minutes.”
“Let me pick you up. I have my Thar.”
He had just gotten it delivered and hadn’t taken it out. He hadn’t even told Amaal yet.
“He mentioned neighbouring towns are also affected, including Paonta Sahib and Nahan. I have asked him to mobilise ham radios.”
“Good call.” Samar stared at the sleet of hail outside. "Let’s talk more on the road.”
The call ended and Samar quickly read the texts, striding into his bedroom to pack.
He changed into a dry pair of clothes, stuffed another pair into his backpack and opened his medicine cabinet.
His medical kit was as ready as ever. He checked for first aid.
He would need to buy more cotton and bandages.
More disposable syringes if he could find.
In case he couldn’t… Samar pushed his hand into his old bag and came out with the pouch of his reusable syringe set.
If it came to saving somebody and infection, it would always be the former.
He packed it all up and slung his bag over his shoulder, picking up his medical bag. As he strode out of his house, his caretaker came running.
“Nashta ready hai, sir.[160]”
He slowed — “Main nikal raha hoon, tum kar lo.[161]”
“Kab aayenge?[162]”
Samar stopped. Thought for a second. He was driving into a cloudburst.
“Pata nahi.[163]” He opened the door of the house. Then stopped again. The momentary pause made him run out faster, unlocking the car and pushing in with his stuff. He shut the door and the loud noise of hail on the roof of his new car sounded intense in the silence.
Samar stuffed his bags in the backseat and grabbed his mobile.
He pressed Amaal’s contact. It rang and rang.
His breath hitched. It rang, kept ringing, then went to voicemail.
Panic mounted. He looked at the time. She would be at work.
But she would never let his call go to voicemail without sending him a ‘Call you later’ message.
He pressed again, worry ballooning in his chest.
He had stopped panicking about Amaal leaving, about Amaal going, about something happening to her long back. He didn’t want to fall into that ditch now but if he didn’t worry and something happened to her…
Samar ended the call and pressed again, his heart rate accelerating. All the cold left his body. His arms felt heated. If she didn’t pick up now, he was calling Adil, Qureshi, all the contacts he had sitting in the Secretariat right now.
“Samar!” She hissed, her voice throwing a blanket over all his panic.
“Amaal.” He shot back, now angry. “Why are you not picking up?!”
“I could be in a meeting!”
“And you always send me a ‘Call you later’ message.”
“Samar, I was with… What happened?”
He paused. The sound of the raining, snowing, hailing outside lit a fire to his dying anger.
“Why did you stop?”
She paused.
“Were you with Khalil?”
“And a room full of editors!” She yelled back. “Seriously?”
He cursed himself but couldn’t stop — “If there was nothing to be guilty about then why pause?”
“Samar.” She breathed. “I am hanging up.”
“Fine. I called to inform that I am going to a cloudburst-prone area. Atharva is with me. We may be out of coverage for… I don’t know how long but at least the next 24 to 48 hours. I have my satellite phone.”
“Fine. Go blow your dragon fire there!”
“I shouldn’t have called you!”
He hung up. His phone started ringing immediately.
Amaal Calling…
Samar took a deep breath and picked it up.
“Where are you going?” She asked, this time calmer.
“Sirmaur.”
“Any numbers I can contact there aside from you and Atharva?”
“I’ll message you.”
“Ok. Be safe.” She hung up.
Be safe?
Samar let out a bitter laugh. He thrust his hand on the headrest next to him, turned over his shoulder, and pulled out of the driveway.
————————————————————
Samar drove through dark hail and towards the sun and rain.
The roads from Shimla were decent but the cars coming in from Sirmaur were maniacal.
He was anyway running on negative patience today.
A mad little hatchback veered to the right and straight towards him.
Samar turned on the fog light beam right at the driver.
It was an asshole move but he immediately veered back in his lane.
He wanted to burn the world today after ages.
“Has NDRF been deployed yet?” Atharva’s voice broke his chain of thoughts.
“It is being mobilised from Delhi.” He focused. "Once they are here, we will be able to go easy. No news yet.”
“Did you call Srinagar and ask Adil for what I told you?”
“Yes. Jammu-Kashmir is the only state close by that has its own Disaster Management Force. Even if things are a little muddled right now, Adil said he will manage.”
Another car tried crossing the undivided road and Samar did the same to him. This was a Thar just like his and he honked back. Samar honked louder until he veered away, crossing him with his middle finger up.
“Check ETA.” He bit out. This road had to end or he would end.
“You’ve made me check it thrice in an hour.” Atharva was so cool and calm, making him even more worked up. “Checking it doesn’t make it come sooner. Did you speak to Amaal?”
“Why would I speak to her?”
“Because you should, before leaving for such a place at such a time.”
“What will she do from there?” Aside from pushing my BP and rage up.
“Maybe say something nice to you to make you drive safer?”
He was laughing inside. Nice? Amaal?
“I am driving safe.”
Atharva went quiet then. The road went silent too, no more cars coming for him. When they did, they dutifully stayed in their lane. Then Samar realised why. He had not put off his beam. He toggled it off, and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, releasing a deep breath.
“She asked me to go and blow my dragon fire over the rain.”
Atharva snorted — “Don’t put it past her.”
“I snapped at her.”
“Don’t put it past you.”
Samar glanced at this profile, still relaxed.
“What’s happening to me?” Samar said to himself, focusing back on the road ahead.
“You were always like this.”
“Was I?”
That was a shocker. Samar thought he had become better in the past year.
Not the best, but at least bearable. Had all his progress only been in his head?
If it was that, then… fear spiked inside him.
What if he couldn’t become worthy of her in the time that he had promised?
Amaal was waiting on the other side for everything she deserved.
“Your best trait is your self-awareness,” Atharva said. “And your worst is your refusal to accept that self-awareness.”
Rain eclipsed the sun, and it was so sudden that the silence in the car went ballistic with the pattering. He sped on, tearing down the sleet.
“I am trying to do it,” Samar whispered.
“Do you really want to do it, is the question.”
Of course he wanted to!
“Because if the answer is yes, then there will be no trying.”
————————————————————
They reached Sirmaur, and it was already washed out. Visibility was close to zero, with nothing but a white sleet of rain in front of them. They thankfully got a covered lot to park the car.
“Atharva sir,” Vikram Rana came running to Atharva, torchlight to light up the dark space. This was news to Samar. Vikram Rana, one of their youngest rising HDP leaders, close to Atharva?
“There’s food and medicines in the car,” Atharva directed. “Clothes and some baby things. Do you have people to take it?”
“There are people but we will have to trek uphill.”
“No pulleys? Cable cars?” Samar opened the dickey, looking at the haphazard way Iram had stuffed the final bags of baby clothes, pushing them through the crevices between boxes.
“We suspended everything,” Vikram panted, more men running into the lot in raincoats and plastic bag kaftans.
“Is everyone evacuated?” Atharva asked.
“Everyone but one family of seven,” Vikram reported, their coordination matching.
“They are stuck on their roof on their farm outside the village. We can see them from the highest point here but cannot reach them. Kacche raste have been swept away and the roads are closed. When I spoke last to a Captain on radio, he said an airlift is being arranged.”
“From the NDRF?”
“He said he was a Captain from Kashmir.”
Samar’s satellite phone rang.
“Adil.” Samar blazed. “Tell me you have the go.”
“I do, but Qureshi is in a meeting now. I need it all signed.”
“Adil has gotten the nod to send J&K Disaster Management Force,” Samar relayed to Atharva. To Adil, he barked — “Go inside then!”
“Hang on. Wait. I need an hour.”
“We are here and waiting, get it fast.”
Adil went on hold.