Page 155 of The Circle of Exile
“Stepping down from the CM’s chair.”
Her mouth dropped open. She quickly closed it and worked a swallow. Her throat went dry.
“You… who if not you? KDP cannot allow that…”
“As I said, I will have more answers this afternoon.”
“Are you sure you are not acting just the way Momina Aslam wants you to act? Because this endgame sounds exactly like what she wants. Maybe all her moves are pushing you towards that.”
“I have been checkmated, Iram. I say I did not go to the mosque and she will keep throwing more evidences, making me into an anti-national liar. Death by a thousand cuts. If I say I went, and hid it, it’s my personal political suicide. This SIT is a way to slow things down. And wait for the next worst thing to happen. She knows she has me trapped. I am choosing the lesser of all evils.”
Iram didn’t have anything to say to that. Her eyes too did not have the strength to keep looking into his. This powerful man, self-made and forged in fire, having won a position with sweat, blood and tears, not for its perks but for its opportunities, worked tirelessly through these years to make his Kashmir a city of modern legends — brought to his knees and still looking just as steadfast as he had that moment he had won the election.
“Iram.”
She raised her gaze to his.
“Start packing. We are returning to Srinagar by this week’s end.”
“But there is still one more month left for winter session.”
“I must be in Srinagar for a while. And I have more travel between Srinagar and Delhi coming up. It’s better we anchor at home.”
29. When NIA and NSA enter, your exit routes are sealed…
“When NIA and NSA enter, your exit routes are sealed.” That warning echoed in Atharva’s head as he stepped out of his car and onto solid, firm ground of the Administrative Tribunal Complex. It was an unassuming red sandstone block, situated on the Secretariat road, behind his own office. It looked cool in the soft light of the post-dawn sky. The May sun wasn’t bright yet, the sky wasn’t even completely lit, but the media circus behind him was making a party out of it.
“Kaul sir, were you there on the blast site in Nagar?”
“CM Kaul — resign! CM Kaul — RESIGN!”
“Are you hiding an act of war?”
“Tuhund chu yiman CM hund pad tchhivnav?”[45]
“The NIA is digging into your financial records. What do your KDP partners have to say about this?”
Atharva ignored the yells from behind him and powered through the compound, Altaf and his security behind him, Zorji walking slower beside him. He had swapped his pheran for a black coat after a decade. He nodded, his ancient eyes enough to power Atharva. Nothing needed to be said between them. They had spent long hours, long days prepping for this. The silence that had detonated louder than any blast had to be broken today, and broken strategically.
For the last two months, the Special Investigation Team constituted by the joint Parliamentary Committee along with the Supreme Court of India, had worked through its investigation. Records, conversations, memos, staff, travel itineraries, witnesses. Everything had been combed through. Atharva had sat back silently and let it happen. He had been able to do so because Momina Aslam had also been gagged. This SIT was sealed for now. Nothing related to the case could be made public until the SIT produced its final report — which would ideally take 18 months, if expedited.
Just get through these first six months quietly, we will see then,Yogesh Patel had told him. Atharva wasn't naive enough to believe him, because then the National Investigative Agency had entered the scene. The National Security Act was governing his case now, which meant the repercussions, if he was proven guilty, were far worse than just vacating office. Atharva was seeing his frenemies slowly tighten the loop around his neck.
It wasn't as if Yogesh Patel had threatened him. And there was a slim-to-none chance of him acting out any of these worst-case scenarios. But the man was creating leashes. Atharva couldn't help but let them hold him because getting out of the biggest soup of his life was more important for now. And getting out without any lingering trails. Nothing could reach Iram. No breadcrumbs. No open ends. No memory of any witness even slightly slipped.
The door of the makeshift SIT headquarters opened and closed behind him. The noises cut off. He slowed down. Walked mindfully. The soldier in him still believed in watching shadows and counting exits, registering smells of tea brewing and early morning stillness stirring to identify which rooms were filled and which were not. His security and Zorji matched his footsteps.
“Mr. Kaul,” the secretary of the SIT Chair met him outside the room, hand outstretched. Atharva shook it. “Would you like some tea or coffee sent in?”
“No, thank you.”
“Your security will have to stand down from here on out, sir.”
“They were looking forward to the show,” Atharva smirked. But Altaf and his team were already stationing in the alley before the secretary had voiced his concern.
“This is my lawyer, Advocate Zoravar Rasool,” Atharva introduced.
“You did not mention bringing a lawyer…”
