Chapter 1 #2
Her mouth pursed. If she had more to say, she chose to keep mum on the topic.
“Ok, then let me come to the point.”
“Finally.”
“You cannot go to PoK.”
“Says who?”
“For two minutes, I need you to set the snark aside, please.”
“Amaal.” He turned solemn. “There is no world in which I wouldn’t go.”
“And if I say that this is the last political suicide that will kill your career?”
“How many political suicides am I allowed?”
“Please, Atharva,” her eyes squeezed shut.
“Fine,” he agreed to keep the snark out. That was all he had left to make his life, his conversations, his meetings palatable in this grim time. He curtailed it. “I will still go, Amaal.”
She opened her eyes, and Atharva was sure he saw her stance wobble.
“I want nothing more than for her to come home. But there are other ways.”
“No.”
“Atharva, we can send Mirza again…”
“No.”
“He is a good undercover journalist, you have sent him on missions before…”
“I said, no. He got scared the last time and look what happened! He was so close to her and couldn’t get in touch with her.”
“That’s because you hadn’t told him to…”
“Hogwash, “ he scoffed. “Mirza has never stopped because of my orders.”
“Do you know what the latest situation is like?”
“I know…”
“Not from your daily pile of newspapers and high level meetings. The real, behind-the-scenes psyche? The public is in a state of vacuum. Confused. They don’t know what to believe, who to believe.
And that’s the most dangerous situation, Atharva, because vacuum is easy to fill.
Quick to fill. Flowers or fish, whatever you fill first. And this is me telling you honestly — we are losing the narrative war.
Forces beyond our control are working to turn you into a Hindu Soldier Dictator in Kashmir — those exact keywords. ”
“Foreign funding, pseudo-liberals, communal forces…” Atharva began to count. And one Pakistani man, he counted in his head, thinking about Sayyid Butt’s accomplice.
“Whoever they may be, they are winning,” Amaal pushed.
“And by going to Pakistan at such a crucial time, you will make an enemy out of the Indian Defence Forces too — the only group supporting you. The Centre too. Imagine, when both sides hate you, who will be left to support you then? Momina Aslam is already rallying that you have become weak in this crisis…”
“A loophole right there. I am weak or a dictator — cannot be both.”
“And that’s our attack for tonight’s debates. But you get what I am saying? If this blows up on the Indian military side, you will have zero support going forward. And right now, it feels like this situation will devolve. Take some time. Think…”
“I will not lose time on ifs and buts. I will go, and I will bring her back. I will also hold Kashmir together. There is no either-or.”
Silence. Amaal shook her head. That was as close as she would come to acceptance of defeat.
“How are you proposing to come out unscathed from this trip of yours?” She asked, this time curious, as if taking notes.
“I will go on an official peace tour to PoK.”
“Peace tour?” She snorted. “What fairytale are you planning to sell? Because let me tell you, there are no buyers right now…”
“The invitation of which is dated two months ago, before all this started.”
“Wha… how?”
“After we didn’t find her in Leh, before I dispatched Mirza to Nagar…
I anticipated that it might come to this.
So I had secured an open invitation from Azad University in PoK.
We know people in the management there, they owe me favours.
They will organize a peace festival and welcome me and the Chief Minister of Gilgit-Baltistan to inaugurate. ”
“Wow, and you think that is not scandalising?”
He took a deep breath.
“I can’t make this any better. You will have to find a way to make this look good.”
“Nothing in this looks good!”
“Then spin it, isn’t that what you do best?”
“For how many days?”
“Three.”
“Is that enough?”
“It has to be.”
“Yathaarth?” Her eyes skimmed down to his good boy. No fuss, no calls for attention. He was happily looking at the trees. Atharva ran a hand down his head.
“What about him?”
“Are you ok leaving him here with Begumjaan? Ada is also not here. I will come and stay…”
“He will go with me.”
“You can’t be serious!” She shot to her feet.
Atharva remained unmoved.
“Taking Arth there…? It’s… it’s…”
“Not dangerous. I am on an official visit.”
“No, not dangerous, but stupid. He needs to be at home, safe, secure… he is so young.”
Atharva swallowed. Didn’t he know that? His son was now four months old and crossing the most dangerous border in the world with his father.
“Atharva.”
He looked up at Amaal. Gone was his Press Secretary. Here stood his friend and Iram’s confidante. He wetted his lips, then confessed what he hadn’t been able to confess to himself.
“Maybe seeing him, she would return.”
Her face contorted.
“Maybe,” he went on, “by now she has found her roots and I can convince her to come back for Arth…”
“She loves you. More than anything, Atharva. Don’t you know that?”
He just tipped his head, non-committal.
“You are enough to bring her back.”
“I wasn’t enough to make her stay, neither was he,” he glanced down at Yathaarth, hoping, praying, begging god that his mother would look at him, forget the misgivings of her past and just come back home.
“Look, Atharva, I was too distraught at that time to understand what was going on. But I know for sure that Iram had something that pushed her. I wouldn’t call them reasons, but she loved you too much to leave.”
“We will know soon enough.”
To that, Amaal had nothing to say. Probably loving someone was there, it sustained, it existed. But loving them enough was the key.
“Atharva?”
“Hmm?”
She took a deep breath and sat down again.
“Give me a list of names of all those people who know.”
“Know what?”
“About this, about Iram and Nagar.”
His face tightened. “To neutralise their voices?”
“In a manner of speaking. As your Press Secretary, it is my job to protect you. Even from our friends. I need all the names so that…”
“You can find dirt on them and keep them in your back pocket. I know. I understand.”
She reached for a pen on his pen-stand and pulled a legal pad toward herself. “Ready.”
“Then,” he tipped his chin, “start with yourself.”
————————————————————
It was after three days of tireless planning and airtight confirmations that Amaal, in the status of the Press Secretary to the Chief Minister of Jammu neither can I convince anyone in the fraternity to. If you go, you are not only demotivating our soldiers who are holding fort right now in gullies and lanes while looking up to you, but also inviting widespread dissent against you.”
“Samjho, Atharvaji, idea drop kardo,[18]” Roshanji piped in, now softened and condescending. “Anyway it is just a tiny university in a town none of us even know the name of. You can decline the invite…”
“The problem is, Roshanji, I have already accepted the invite. I have given my word,” Atharva shrugged seriously, putting himself in an inferior position to the condescending advice.
“So what? You can cancel it. You have valid reasons to go back on your word. The Pakistani PM declared that all that is happening in Kashmir is a freedom movement… they called Usama Aziz a freedom fighter! They called us dictators and you want to step into their country?”
“Hmm, Roshanji, I would have done that, surely, you are right. But our PM gave a statement that PoK was, is, and will always belong to India.”
“So what?”
“So now, my saying that I will not go to PoK, for a civilian education event at that, just because Pakistan offended us, will only question our stand that PoK is an integral part of India. No?”
Roshanji fell silent. His mouth thinned and his eyes took on a sharp look. Major Banot looked taken aback but his demeanour remained unchanged, unforgivingly stoic.
“What should I do now, Roshanji, you tell me… if there is any other way to get out of this, since the press releases have already gone out... I cannot renege on this without compromising on our government’s national policy stand that PoK belongs to India.
I am going from one part of my state to the other. Am I not?”
“Yes, but… that’s… just semantics… that…” he floundered. “It’s under their control…”
“We don’t accept that.”
“But it is! You need visa to go there.”
“Which I will obtain with due procedure. But think about the strength your stand will take when your Chief Minister will visit PoK even amid these tense times. The PM’s statement will be reiterated. I will make sure of that.”
Roshanji shook his head — “Aap mujhe baaton mein uljha rahe ho, Atharvaji.[19]”
Atharva shook his head — “Main kahan aapko uljha sakta hoon. Aap khud itne bade kavi hai.[20] I am just trying to say that this issue is not worth tensing up our alliance over. Elections are coming up in Rajasthan, MP and UP. Your party always does well in these states on issues of nationalism. You have it right here. Ask your MLAs to stand down in my Vidhan Sabha, release my permissions to go and strengthen your stand that PoK is ours. Sweep these three states again.”
Roshanji did not yield but Atharva could see his mind whirring.
“Let me speak to Yogesh bhai and come back to you,” he finally said.
“I will wait for your call this evening,” Atharva got to his feet, pushing his hand out for a shake.
He had given the decision a date and a time now.
He added the stakes just as Roshanji shook his hand — “Our alliance is precious to me, Roshanji. I hope it is just as precious to you. I wouldn’t like to run my state without Ali by my side. ”