Chapter 57 How did she find herself outside an ICU every few years? #2
Amaal woke up the next morning and grabbed her mobile, pressing for Samar’s number. She ventured out of her bedroom and found the hall of her parents’ flat empty.
“Mom?”
The bathroom door opened and out strode Samar, in a fresh pair of pants, shirt untucked, buttons open, rubbing at his hair. “Your Mom came to the hospital early morning.” He held his mobile out, cutting her call.
“Why? What happened to Dad?” She began to rush to the door when he caught her elbow. “What happened?! I told you to call me! You promised…”
He gathered her back in — “He is fine.”
“Then?”
“Your mom woke up early and came. We talked for a while. She forced me to come back and shower. You dad was fine so I came.”
“How did you know where we live?”
He smirked, throwing his towel over his shoulder — “I know how to locate an address.”
Amaal exhaled, then peeked at him over her lashes — “How is he?”
“Absolutely on track. A scan was done early at 4 and the swelling has shrunk to half its size.”
“Which is good news, no?”
“Yes, it’s very good news.” He cupped her cheeks, brushing away at the tears that she didn’t even know were flowing down her face. “You are going to get dehydrated like this.”
“Don’t talk to me like a doctor!” She slapped his wrist away. But he still smiled at her, not taking the bait. Amaal didn’t know until this moment that she was testing his limits with every unintended brush off. And he was letting her do it happily.
“What has happened to you?” She murmured, stilling in her fear and grief enough to look at him properly after months. She had last seen him in passing for half an hour when they had both been in Jammu Secretariat. Ever since, even their calls and dwindled.
Samar’s face remained steady, smiling, reassuring. The rock that… she probably never thought she’d ever have in this relationship.
“We will talk about all of it later. But you should know that I am not going to hurt you because you hurt me or I am hurting. Do it, run your trials. I will still be standing here when you are done.”
His mobile buzzed in his hand and she instantly stood to attention. “Is it Mom?”
“It’s from Himachal.” He took it, gathering the back of her head into his chest and holding her there as he spoke into his phone.
Amaal didn’t even care to hear or understand half the things he spoke.
He was talking to his assistant, Gauri. She wrapped her arms around him and let her weight rest on him as he continued talking, walking them back to the island running the length of the main window and opening his laptop single-handedly, phone between his ear and shoulder.
He did not relent his hold on her. She did not make any move to let go.
“I am looking at Balwinder and Vikram’s lists, but what about Atharva’s…
? Hmm… Mmm hmm… no, I am going to remain here.
I’ll sign it remotely, activate Docusign.
Have Vikram lead ticket distribution in his area, Balwinder Joshi will take care of Shimla and north-west. For the rest, Hariraj Singh will be landing today from Udhampur.
He is an expert in managing pre-election. ”
Pre-election. Amaal tried to pull away from him but he frowned down at her, gripping her neck. “I will call you back once I am ready, Gauri. You all still there at the office…? Hmm.”
He locked his mobile and tipped his head down — “What happened?”
“There is election in Himachal in three weeks, how are you even here?”
“In five weeks.”
“Yes, that makes all the difference!” She rolled her eyes. “Samar, this is your election.”
“You are also mine.”
Her body heated. Even in this situation, her body heated.
“You go now, Dad will be fine and I am also fine. Why did you come leaving everything behind? Wait, why didn’t you come with me on the charter flight?”
“There was no flight from Shimla to Srinagar that night. I also needed a diplomatic visa. You’d have had to wait for me. So I went to Delhi, got it stamped and took the first London flight. The frequency there is the highest.”
Amaal pressed her forehead to his chest. “You don’t show your face for months and then you come like this.”
He stroked her hair, silent. Again, his mobile rang. She thought it would be Himachal but a familiar voice made her break away. When she looked up, it was Mom on his mobile screen, turning the camera to Dad. Dad, whose one eye was open.
“Amaal.” Her mother pointed, and Amaal snatched it — “Dad! It’s me, hi…”
He tried to lift his hand, then lifted his other hand when he couldn’t. A crooked half smile formed on his mouth. It worried her but she kept smiling.
“I am coming there, ok?” Amaal told her father, half crying. “I am coming in twenty minutes. How are you feeling? Mom, how is he?”
“He is ok. He will go back to sleep again now,” she said in her scolding tone for him. “You don’t rush. Take your time. Eat something. Both of you, go out and have breakfast. I haven’t made anything.”
“We are coming.”
“Ok… the nurse is here. I’ll call you back.”
Amaal stared at the blank phone screen for a long moment, thanking god and every blessing that had worked in their favour.
Then she glanced up at the man whose phone it was and collapsed into his chest. She didn’t cry but she spat out the fear and fatigue of the last two days.
Strong, warm arms wrapped tight around her and rubbed her back through the thin layer of her T-shirt, his stubbled chin pulling at her hair and creating the sweetest friction.
“Thank you.”
“He is alright.” Samar kissed her head.
“His mouth will always remain like this?” Amaal asked. “He couldn’t lift his hand either…”
“It will get better. With time and rehab it will get better.”
“100%?”
“That’s a high possibility.” Samar pulled her head back and stared into her eyes — “He has lots of things motivating him.”
“Like?”
“His practice, your mother, you, our wedding, our children.”
“This is the second time you’ve mentioned it. What’s going on? Your end date
is ending early?”
Samar smiled. “Right now, do you want to think about all that?”
She shook her head.
“Then let’s get out for breakfast. I will make this one video call until you shower and then you are taking me to your favourite place to eat here before we go to the hospital.”
————————————————————
Eating after getting the biggest relief of your life was the best eating in the whole wide world. The Lounge Cafe was as full and lively as ever for brunch but they had managed to snag a table for two by the window, basking under the summer sun before it rained.
“Your soup, luv.” The waitress set a bowl of cheddar broccoli soup on their table with a fresh, steaming bread roll.
“Thanks but we didn’t order…”
“Thank you.” Samar smiled at her, pulling the soup plate between them. “Soup for breakfast opens all sinuses.”
She chuckled. Amaal looked at the table between them, already groaning with her breakfast burrito that was too big for her to finish and his sandwich that she had just discovered, was his first meal in twenty hours.
“Their soup of the day is this one, they didn’t have tomato or minestrone.
” He tested the perfectly browned, bubbling cheese surface, breaking the mozzarella and spooning the creamy emerald soup under it.
“Do you want to add pepper?” He blew on a spoonful and just when she thought he’d try it for pepper, he pushed the spoon into her mouth. “Umm…” she nodded.
He tore open a sachet and sprinkled some in. Amaal gazed at him as he mixed her soup, blew another spoonful and held it out to her, without even realising he was doing it. She opened her mouth and accepted it, nodding.
“Hmm.” He spooned some again and tasted it. “Nice.”
“Samar.”
“Hmm?” He stirred the soup and pushed it towards her, setting aside her half-eaten burrito that she knew she was done with but god knew how he knew.
“Thank you for coming.”
He sat back, and a smile formed on his mouth — “It is my fault that you did not immediately expect me to come.”
“No…”
“Amaal,” he nodded. “It is. I have given you the impression, knowingly and unknowingly, that I am the fragile one here. I was. But I am not now. And even if I am at any given point in our lives, it will not be at your expense. But this is a conversation for later. Tell me, how are you surviving without working, and who has taken the weight of Jammu-Kashmir government’s press? ”
“Fahad must be managing. And frankly, I don’t even care. I didn’t care about work exactly like this when you were in the ICU. I have to call Qureshi and see if it’s ok if I don’t work remotely for the next week…”
“Wait a minute,” Samar sat forward. “He asked you to work remotely while you were here?”
“He didn’t ask me to work, he offered that if it goes on longer I was free to work remotely.”
“Amaal, you understand the implication behind it, right? Tell me you do.”
“I do.”
“He is not supposed to make you work when you are on a family emergency.” Samar bit out. “Even expecting it is inhuman.”
She shook her head — “I am thinking about not continuing as his Press Secretary in the next term, if there is a next term.”
“Has something happened?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. I may not be spending as much time in Srinagar as I do in Jammu and Himachal, but I will find out.”
“No.” She asserted. “Nothing like that has happened. And don’t you get between this as the KDP President. Just listen to me like you.”
“Like me?”
“Like my boyfriend.”
“If I wasn’t the KDP President, I would react even worser.”
“Samar.”
“Amaal.” He pinned her with his eyes. Then sighed. “Ok, say.”
“I just don’t enjoy working with him like I used to with Atharva.
I don’t agree with a lot of the things… ok, most of the things that he is doing.
It’s not the Kashmir Atharva dreamed about.
It’s safe, but religious intolerance is creeping back, policies are being roadblocked from being executed…
You know about these things better than I do. ”
“Hmm.”
“And… did I tell you I am scouting properties?”
“You said something about looking at photos but not going for the property tours yet.”
“Well, the end date is coming closer,” she quipped. “And I am thinking of going back to KDP… if the KDP President will have me again.”
“You are thinking this or you have decided?” His brows shot up. “Because don’t give me false hope.”
“False hope? You will pull all your hair out in the first week itself. Don’t you remember how we fought all the time?”
“No.”
“I made Atharva’s life hell and he made my life hell in turn. When you and me were in Jammu for the JMC elections, we made each other’s lives hell!”
“I don’t remember it being hell,” he smirked. “I remember you winning us seats and dancing to me and then losing to me in a video game and getting drunk.”
She grinned, her eyes pricking. “What a time that was.”
His smile widened.
“As I said,” Amaal took a deep breath. “I am thinking. Suddenly, the last ten years look like they passed in a blur and I am just waking up.”
“Take your time. Jammu-Kashmir elections are still a good eight months away. You can leave Qureshi’s government then without having to serve any notice period or answer any questions. It will also keep your credentials clean.”
“Hmm.”
His brow cocked.
“Hmmmmm…” she made a loud hum and picked up her soup spoon.
————————————————————
Her father was shifted out of the ICU that evening because, apparently, his pupils were reactive and he was alert. That was when Amaal got to see him awake and in his full senses.
“Dad,” she went to his bedside. “Way to go with your attention problem.”
“Ut workd…” he slurred, his mouth at an odd angle to the right. His right eye was squinted. But Samar, her mother, as well as the doctors had reassured her again and again that it was temporary.
“Look who is here.” Her mother entered behind her, Samar in tow.
“Hello, sir, how are you?” Samar stopped at the foot of her father’s bed, standing tall and steady, like he had stood in front of him once long ago in Atharva’s home office.
“Sanar…” Dad tried to smile. Had they talked in his scans today? “Hay…rage?”
“No hemorrhagic conversion.” Samar shook his head. “Your latest CT is clear, and now it’s all on you.”
“Rehab, Dr. Durrani.” Mom came around the bed and sat down on a chair next to him. “Hard work for once in your life.”
Dad scoffed, making an amused noise.
“It’s going to be a breeze,” Samar argued. “You have to get back to your own patients, isn’t it?”
Dad blinked.
“When can he go home?” Amaal pressed.
“Not immediately,” Samar answered. “You can speak to his doctors, but it would be better to stay, then do an inpatient neuro rehab for at least three weeks. Early therapy will go a long way for sir, where he is looking at recovering his fine motor skills.”
Her father hummed.
“Home or hospital, what does it matter?” Mom rolled her eyes playfully. “Dad is used to staying in the clinic for fifteen hours anyway.”
Dad said something slurry and Mom caught it, chuckling. Amaal glanced at Samar. He was looking at them with so much belongingness, that she felt thrills spark up and down her spine. His eyes came to her, and she cocked her head to the door. He nodded.
They slipped away as her parents kept talking in a language only they understood best. Samar closed the door and she turned, catching his elbow — “Thank you,” she couldn’t control her smile. “I am so happy and so relieved and so everything. You promised and you did it, thank you, thank you.”
His head bent until their eyes were close — “I won’t make too many promises in our life, Amaal. But when I make them, I will fulfil them.”
Her heart was beaming, glowing, feeling like it was a beacon inside her.
“But now it’s time for you to go.” She beamed at him. "I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin with the election and this.”
“I am here until he is transferred to inpatient rehab.”
Her smile dropped.
“Is there some danger?”
He shook his head. “Just routine stuff. Or are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Even if I tried, I wouldn’t be rid of you now.”
“Finally you learn.”