Chapter 41
Atharva knew there was a long way to go between making himself vulnerable and regaining control over the chessboard. But for him, this gambit was not an option. It was the only way to keep his way home open.
“Srinagar is connecting in five minutes,” Samar’s assistant, Gauri Koli informed. Atharva turned from the window of Samar’s office and nodded at her.
“You don’t need to sit in on this, Gauri,” Samar smiled. “We will take it from here.”
She quietly exited the small office and closed the door behind her.
Atharva returned to gazing out of the window.
The HDP headquarters was located in a bigger space in Chotta Shimla.
This small space was more alive and active thanks to its central location on The Ridge.
Atharva had never asked Samar but now the thought struck.
“Why didn’t we get a bigger space here when we started?” He questioned, eyeing the dewy street down below, lined with chapels and thatch-roofed shops. The Indian flag fluttered proudly in the central square, reminding him of Lal Chowk.
“Domicile problems. There were just three locals I could trust with party money and that too within a limit. This property is also in Abhinav Thakur’s name.”
“Couldn't we rent?”
“Chotta Shimla office is rented.”
Atharva stared fixedly at the pandemonium of tourists down below.
Shimla was clean, Shimla was flourishing, what was it that got these people to switch support?
Status quo led to anti-incumbency but there had to be something that ticked beneath this shiny, perfect surface.
His research so far had been about landlocked, remote districts, drawing parallels with Ladakh.
But Atharva suddenly realised that he was falling into the trap he himself had sworn off.
The same plan never worked for two missions.
He did not have the responsibility of strategising here yet. That didn’t mean he stopped thinking.
“Qureshi is struggling with readying a force for the next election,” Samar’s voice broke his chain of thoughts. “He will ask you to work on it.”
Atharva did not respond.
“Atharva?”
“I heard you.”
“Then say yes. This is your chance to assimilate back into Kashmir politics, even if remotely. You won’t be the face but you will get to interact with our workers and booths again. Keep yourself fresh in their minds.”
“Hmm.”
“The municipal elections were lukewarm.”
“Hmm.”
KDP had lost seats, not gained any new ones.
Next was panchayat a year later. Atharva did not hold out hope for Jammu.
As for the rest, their backlog of rapid development might carry the party into another term.
The system Atharva had set in these corporations had the capacity to keep churning without the need for strong leadership.
Work would get done. But elections were not fought on work. They were fought on emotion.
“They are calling, Atharva.”
He turned and covered the small distance to Samar’s desk, taking a visitor’s chair. Samar took the other one and turned his laptop just as two windows popped to life — Zoravar Rasool and CM Qureshi. Adil sat beside Qureshi in his office.
“Hello,” Qureshi started. “How are you two doing?”
“All good,” Samar clipped like he always did. “Zorji.”
“How’s it going, boys?”
Atharva smiled — “All good.”
An awkward few seconds of silence lingered.
“Alright,” Adil broke it with a clap. “You girls done squirming? Sorry, not you, Zorji.”
Zorji let out a bark, sitting back and waving for him to continue.
“Atharva, your vacation is about to end,” Adil announced, cheeky and shameless. Atharva cocked an eyebrow — “Elaborate.”
“KDP executive committee has decided that we will bring in an experienced hand to lead the charge for 2020. Awaami has already started work and we cannot sit still just because we are in power. More so because we are in power, we have more to lose.”
Atharva stared, silent, not giving in to any cue. Spit it out and then hear my answer. Even better, have Qureshi spit it out.
But Adil continued — “And who is more experienced than you in converting ground-level relationships into votes?”
“I cannot come to Kashmir.”
“I know, but what good is technology if we can’t use it to have you ready KDP for the next election?”
Atharva did not give in to that cue as well.
“Atharva,” Qureshi was compelled to speak.
“The face for 2020 is not decided yet. It is contingent on your return. I spoke to Yogesh Patel last week. We are working here to throw blankets over any spark. He has promised to bring the topic back to the table at our next meeting in March in Jammu. If the interest in your case dies down, you will be able to return by the end of next year.”
“I understand,” Atharva gave a nod.
“So instead of letting this year go, work remotely with KDP booth and district-level leaders. Prepare the ground for your return.”
Keep myself fresh in the minds of the people, push the burial of the SIT, and ready the state for your return to CMship?
Atharva eyed Zorji’s window — “Is it legal, Zorji?”
He did not sway, one of the other. And when he didn’t, Atharva knew he meant — ‘no.’
“It is legal,” he intoned. “You are externed from being inside the state borders to avoid your interference in government investigation. What you do privately, without entering the state, is nobody’s business. We all know that nobody cares anyway, as long as you stay out of Kashmir.”
Atharva smirked. Well said, Zorji.
“I will need time to think.”
Adil let out a laugh — “He means no.”
“I don’t mean ‘no.’”
“We know you, Atharva,” Qureshi smiled. “You mean ‘no’ when you say you will think about it.”
“That was my SOP when I was working in politics.”
“You still work in politics. In HDP,” Qureshi pointed.
“I work as a volunteer. My hours are less than an intern’s.
And when I say I will take my time to think, I mean my family.
One — I do not want to take away from the time I have started to value and give them.
Arth is in his formative years. I did not get too much of my father at that age.
Arth is getting it, I want to keep it that way for the foreseeable future… ”
“You won’t be working more than 2-3 days a week…”
“Let me finish.”
Qureshi pursed his lips.
“Second,” Atharva asserted. “I am not in the headspace to resume yet.”
“Daniyal told Sarah that you don’t leave your room for hours on end,” Qureshi brought it up. “What is wrong?”
Atharva opened his vulnerability.
“I am not in the headspace.”
Qureshi was ex-SFF too. He did not give away emotions. But Atharva had worked with him long enough to know when he was working doubly hard to hide something. This time, he was working triply hard to hide something.
“Maybe in a few months,” Atharva offered an inch. “I can look at reports and share comments. Nothing at the fore.”
He saw Qureshi meet Adil’s eyes. He felt Samar’s knee nudge his leg. He did not add anything else.
“Ok. Think about it. We can revisit this conversation in a few months. By that time, Yogesh Patel might also have good news for us.”
“Even if he does, one year wouldn’t be enough to again become the face of an election. I will not be putting my name on anything in 2020.”
Silence.
“In truth, Atharva,” Qureshi broke it. “KDP needs you. None of us set it up to rule one day. It was to change the way things were done, bring security back to the valley. Even if you don’t want to become the face for the next election, you should get behind it.”
“I agree. And this is not a no.”
“Hmm. Then I will see you when I come for the HDP Annual conference? All five of us.”
Atharva nodded.
“Bye, boys.” Adil ended the call. And Samar’s knee that had nudged him now knocked hard into his thigh.
“Fuck you! Why would you let that chance go?”
“For the reasons I mentioned,” Atharva got to his feet, walking away from his knocking knee.
“Bull-fucking-shit.”
“I take Iram and Arth for picnics thrice a week. We are planning to start going on day trips once the winter thaws. Samar, I want to spend time with my family.”
“You can do both.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“You are not a man who can live without purpose, Atharva.”
“My family is my purpose now.”
————————————————————
“Baba, car!” Yathaarth started to jump the moment he walked into the house.
Atharva set his iPad down and glanced at the clock — “Let’s go!”
“No,” Iram came striding out of the kitchen, hands stained in dough. “It’s lunch time.”
“We’ll go for a quick round.”
Her eyes widened in warning.
“What?”
“We have been indulging every demand for O. U. T. He also needs to hear a ‘no’ and start valuing every time we go.”
Atharva glanced from her to his son. Big grey expectant eyes blinked up at him. He hadn’t seen eyes this cute after Bambi. Dark grey orbs in Iram’s almond shape, widened in hope and faith that Baba will take him out. Atharva opened his mouth to say yes but his wife beat him to it, thank god.
“It’s lunchtime, Arth. Come on.”
“Baba out! Car, Baba, car out,” he began to walk out of the house on his own accord. Atharva sputtered.
“Don’t laugh. You are not taking him. Bring him back.”
“Why me?”
She held her doughy hands up.
Atharva huffed.
“Atharva, we are indulging him because somewhere we both feel guilty of tearing him away from home. And it was fine for a few days. But every time he demands, we don’t have to fulfil. He needs to start learning the harsh realities of life in small things.”
“You are right. I’ll fetch him…” he turned his head and found his son already going around the car, patting at its body. That was one more thing his son had inherited. A love for cars. Even just looking at cars, like looking at nature, made him sit quietly.
“How did the call go?”
He kept his eyes on Yathaarth as he spoke — “They offered me to lead the charge for the next election, sweetened the deal with false hopes of returning by the end of next year.”
“You declined, of course.”
“No.”
“But you said you would. Adil told you to…”