Chapter 58 Himachal Pradesh Election 2019 #2
What? He was letting go of the chance to make government with them? But now if they went to HJS with the same demands, HJS would know that Yogesh Patel had not given in, and they would drive the negotiations even further. Samar stared down the well of their victory, seeing his upper hand slip.
“Yogesh Bhai,” Atharva addressed. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions yet.”
Samar glanced at him. Atharva wasn’t looking at him but straight at Yogesh Patel, his signal clear. Stay out of it.
“Your friend does not leave me any choice,” Yogesh Patel remarked, eyes coming to Samar. Samar felt Atharva’s eyes on him now and looked. Atharva nodded. Samar remained silent.
“Why don’t we go to the balcony for some fresh air?
” Atharva offered. To Samar’s astonishment, Yogesh Patel immediately rose up, his tall, lean frame moving towards the glass trapdoor that opened into the balcony.
Atharva followed, and closed the trapdoor to shut out all sounds.
Samar turned to them, now that their voices were cut off. All he could see was both their backs.
What were they talking?
His brain began to tick.
Their conversation did not last long. It was a few minutes before Atharva was turning around. And then they were both stepping out of the balcony, closing the trapdoor.
“HDP gets to keep Deputy, Law we put Agriculture on the table to swap for Home.” Yogesh Patel announced, crossing his hands behind his back. Samar stood to his feet. Agriculture had been the first on his list to negotiate for Finance. But Home was going away here.
Samar eyed Atharva behind Yogesh Patel. He blinked his assent.
“We have a deal.” Samar nodded, holding his hand out. Yogesh Patel shook it.
“Congratulations to all of us,” the old man nodded at the room. “And good luck for a trailblazing five years in Himachal. Divine intervention has led us back to each other.” He eyed over his shoulder. Samar’s eyes whirled to Atharva, finding no acknowledgement there.
And the tick in his brain began to throb.
————————————————————
“Gauri.”
“Yes, sir?” She turned.
“Bring me the ticket distribution lists that we worked on when I was in London.”
“There were multiple lists from multiple stakeholders, sir. Which ones do you want?”
“Atharva’s.” Samar paused. “And… Vikram Rana’s.”
Fifteen minutes later, Gauri strode in with fresh printouts.
“Walk me through both lists. I remember we rejected most of Atharva’s proposed candidates and went with Vikram’s over everybody else’s, even Hariraj and Balwinder’s lists.”
“Correct.” Gauri set the papers down in front of him and spread them out — “Atharva sir’s lists mainly consisted of local senior faces that you initially gave your nod to but then we saw Vikram’s list and the feedback data from the survey firm. The match was remarkable.”
“Show me Vikram’s list.”
Gauri handed it to him. Samar read the names, remembering that he had vetted them sitting in Amaal’s parents’ hall while they all slept, thinking to himself that a lot of brand new members were nominated here.
So many of these had joined HDP five, six, seven months ago from other parties but their backgrounds and ideologies had checked. So he had gone ahead with them.
“Find out, what were the vote shares of these candidates in the last election that they fought from other parties.”
Gauri pulled his laptop around and got to work.
Samar read through Atharva’s list, laughing at himself.
What a bullshit list. Now Samar could see through it.
It was planted to make him see the stark difference between the original party members and the new, popular ones that had joined recently.
Samar knew where this was going even before Gauri announced — “Most of these candidates held a 30-40% vote share in their last election. They either were the runners up or at least got one caste or gender wins.”
“Hariraj and Balwinder’s lists?”
“Some of them checked with the survey team, but Vikram Rana’s list came the closest. That is why we picked the highest number of candidates from his list.”
“Do you remember, Gauri, when Atharva had proposed we go after the runners-up candidates of the last election and induct them in the party?”
“Yes. And you were against it.”
Samar met her gaze. And the realisation in her eyes came instantly.
“This is…” she stuttered. “We were worried that it would dilute our ideology, but… it hasn’t.” Her voice was incredulous. “And… we won…”
“Hmm.” Samar stared out at the setting sun from his office, recollecting one particular conversation with Vikram Rana when he had come back after winning the Panchayat election in Sirmaur.
“How did you manage to win with 70% margin?”
“The candidates were good, and HDP’s work during the cloudburst was fresh in everyone’s mind. It all worked in our favour.”
“Three out of five candidates were new joinees.”
“But they were embraced by the village.”
Samar’s blood boiled. Atharva had played him for a fool.
“I’ll be back, Gauri.”
He grabbed his car key and stormed out.
————————————————————
Samar ripped through Shimla’s roads, his barometer rising with every recollection.
Atharva had been docile after their first cold confrontation on this topic and Samar had thought he had accepted the backseat.
But he had been manipulating the fucking hell out of everything!
What was his endgame? Samar had offered him better roles in HDP but he had denied them all.
He had denied the opportunity to work for KDP remotely. Was HDP’s power centre his new goal?
Samar screeched on the brakes, slowing at the turning of the hill.
Atharva’s chance at leading in Kashmir was gone for good, at least for the near future. Was this his new alternative? Take over HDP slowly, without letting him realise it?
Samar sped up the slope to his house, the house he had helped set up when Atharva was thrown out of his home! When had Atharva become so cruel, so cold, so thankless? And when had he become so naive?
Samar parked the car outside his bungalow and got out, pushing the gates open and storming up the dark porch.
He was so charged up that he would win even in hand-to-hand combat if Atharva so much as tried to deny these allegations.
Samar halted at the bright light bursting out of the window. He gaped, his feet arresting.
Iram was running with Yathaarth in her arms, Atharva behind her. They were laughing. He couldn’t hear anything, but Yathaarth screamed — “Baba cheaaattterrrr!” He heard that.
Dil-baro!
Atharva chased them around the sofa and through the tables.
He wasn’t even trying to get hold of them, letting his fingers grab air around his son as his wife ran.
Samar stared at the scene, giving himself a grounding moment.
He could not barge into Atharva’s house and fight.
He would not unleash his litany of allegations without giving it a second thought.
His mind was angry, wandering away from him.
He grabbed it with both hands and dragged it back.
Wait, think, perceive, he told himself. Analyse critically. If Atharva wanted to usurp his position in Himachal Development Party, why would he keep pushing him up? Why would he keep holding him as the leader?
Atharva was working on something else. It wasn’t just about surviving here. It wasn’t about getting to the top of HDP either.
Samar took a deep breath. Then released it.
He pulled out his mobile and scrolled to Adil’s number. Then pressed Dial.
“Hello, hello! Congratulations, Samar
sahab,” Adil hollered. “Finally got the time to return my call?”
“Adil,” Samar said. “I am about to ask you one question. If you know the answer and cannot share it with me, I want you to tell me honestly that you cannot.”
“O…kay?”
Samar swallowed.
“What is Atharva working towards?”
Silence.
“Say no if you can’t answer.”
Still silence.
“Adil.”
“I think,” Adil sighed. “I know why you are asking this question today. And no, I don’t know the answer this time. What I can say, observing everything from here, is that he may be working in politics but he is not working towards any goal in politics.”
“Then?”
“He is working towards coming back home.”
“Has he said anything about it to you?”
“No.”
Samar believed Adil today. Because Adil had the option to say he couldn’t answer. They had come far enough in their friendship to be that honest now again.
“Samar.” Adil’s voice went low. “I don’t know what Atharva has done this time, but it’s far from personal, for either of us. He seems to be fighting a whole other battle.”
Samar glanced up, and now Yathaarth was in Atharva’s arms, being thrown up and caught back.
Iram was trying to stop them, so Atharva turned his son upside down and hung him over his arm, making the boy howl in joy.
A smile touched Samar’s mouth. If he asked Atharva, maybe Atharva would tell him what he was after.
But if he did not want to tell him in the first place, then it was not his place to ask.
“I agree,” Samar told Adil. “I’ll talk to you later.”
He pressed End Call, turned, and walked back to his car. Samar got behind the wheel and unlocked his mobile again. There were many calls to return. But he scrolled to the one that mattered, and connected his mobile to his car’s system.
“Hullo, luv.” Amaal’s playful voice filled all the vacuum of his car. Samar felt his smile widen.
“Hello,” he said. “You called?”
“Stop being so nonchalant. Give me all the updates. Wait, are you free now? What time is it there?”
“It’s 9.24 pm,” he glanced at the car clock. “I am going back to the office but I always have time for you. First, how’s Dad?”
“Dad’s good. Occupational therapy sessions started today. Another month, and we will know for sure if he will be able to perform surgery again.”
“He will, he will.” Samar sat back, not starting the car. He had been running for a very long time. This was a moment to become still and absorb. He would reward himself.
“How are you holding up?” He asked.
“You asked me this two days ago when we spoke.”
“I am asking again if anything changed.”
“Nothing has changed,” Amaal’s grin was loud in her voice. “I am still taking time off and working remotely for half a day. Qureshi does not like it but hey, he doesn’t know I am quitting anyway after this term is over.”
Samar chuckled.
“And what about me?” He asked.
“What about you?”
“How long are these bachelor days lasting?”
She paused.
“What happened?”
“You haven’t even asked me yet! And your end date is ending next week.”
“Are you coming back next week?” He knew she wasn’t. She had been back home properly after ten years. And her parents needed her. She needed them. She needed to take a step back from the race that she had been running to breathe just as much as he had needed this moment.
“Samar, it will still take a month, maybe mor…”
“Amaal,” he turned solemn. “I was joking.”
“You know how to joke?”
“Quiet.” He commanded. “And listen carefully to me. Come when you are ready. Even after Dad is ok, stay if you want to. I am going to be right here where you left me.”
“I did not leave you. And if for one minute you think you are a bachelor, Samar Dixit…”
He smiled.
“Remember, you have to spend the rest of your life with me and I am awesome at knife fight.”
“Noted.”
“Good. Now go form your government. Are you taking the Deputy CM post?”
Samar glanced at the closed gates of the bungalow in front of him.
At one suspended point in his life, he had vied for a position like that. It was anger, listlessness, jealousy, need, and so much more talking. Now, he knew his strengths. More than that, he acknowledged his weaknesses.
He was not a man who could blaze open new roads. But he was exceptional at paving a way that had been opened up. He was not about to confine himself now.
“No,” Samar started the car. “I am going to expand this party across India.”