Page 162 of The Circle of Exile
Raj Bhavan, Srinagar
Subject: Withdrawal of Confidence in Shri Atharva Singh Kaul as Chief Minister
Date: 4th June, 2017
Hon’ble Governor,
With deep respect for Shri Atharva Singh Kaul’s legacy and leadership, we, the undersigned MLAs of the Kashmir Development Party (KDP), wish to formally communicate our loss of confidence in his continuing as Chief Minister.
Recent events, including the ongoing investigation into his conduct during the PoK visit and concerns over transparency in governance have caused a growing rift between the leadership and legislative wing.
This decision has not been taken lightly. Shri Kaul has been a pillar of this party, but we believe a change is now essential to restore credibility and cohesion in both the government and the party.
We request that the necessary constitutional process be initiated to determine the future leadership of the House.
Sincerely,
Meer Hasan Qureshi
CC:
- Speaker, J&K Legislative Assembly
- KDP Party Working Committee
“Where did you get this from?”
Samar looked at Adil. Adil glanced at Zorji, perched at the head of the table far in the distance, straight across from him.
Atharva saw something cooking… or, already cooked. He was just getting whiff of it. He reached for his mobile and began to call Salim Asghar Azad, the unofficial leader of his set of MLAs. Inside KDP too, they each had their own loyal circles. Atharva’s was the largest, holding up his position as the CM since day one.
He dialled Azad’s number. Waited. It rang. Rang. Rang. Rang.
Atharva waited.
“Who are you calling?” Adil asked.
Atharva disconnected and scrolled to his other number, the one that he always kept active. He was the MLA from Bandipora. He had to be available at all times.
The number rang and rang and rang and then went to voicemail.
“Salim Asghar Azad?” Adil asked.
Atharva pulled up his chat and began to type.
“Qureshi is in touch with him,” Samar informed.
His fingers froze mid-air. Atharva stared at Samar.
“Then why isn’t this letter signed yet?”
“Qureshi did not want to make a scene if you left quietly. He says he has majority signatures ready, including enough of your MLAs.”
“And what about your MLAs?” Atharva set his phone on the table, tamping down the rising rage inside him. It was one thing to expect his opposition, the central government, the hired protestors, the press, the NGOs, even some of the bureaucracy to turn against him. Quite another for his co-founder, or more of them to turn. His friends. His brothers-in-arms.
“Adil’s and my MLAs together won’t stand against the number that Qureshi has.”
“How did he get my ML…” Atharva stopped. He had given him authority to work their problems out months ago.
