Page 26 of The Circle of Exile
“That is right. Kashmiriyat across the LOC is still Kashmiriyat.”
“Yes.”
“You have a very beautiful holding here,” Atharva continued to engage him, recalling Dilshad Khan’s tour guide rant from outside. “The architecture is also functional. All rugged outside but delicate inside. It goes back to the 8thCentury, doesn’t it? That’s what they told me outside…”
“Yes. Took 62 years to finish, my father used to say. At that time, they spent hundred and twenty crores to build. The estates… and everything you see from here right till there,” he pointed to the horizon. “Later centuries, our ancestors leased these properties to subjects, so that the courtiers could live close by.”
“Smart business, I would say, more than the subjects’ convenience of housing,” Atharva grinned, eliciting a sudden twin from the Mir. His dull eyes lit up.
“I hope you didn’t take offence at my suggesting so,” Atharva added, and won the bonus of the Mir’s dimpled smile. The man looked younger, almost adolescent as his hands went to rest at ease by his side.
“Why would I, when that was the exact same point I argued over with my late father, Allah rest his soul in peace.” His words started to flow easily, his accent settling. So he did speak fluent English. The puppet act was coming down.
“I’m sure you won that argument.”
“Let’s just say I gave up before he lost.”
Atharva chuckled, looking at the rebellious glint. The young king definitely seemed more logical and business-minded. He was far more concerned with his ancestors turning a profit than with the beauty of his palace.
Atharva glanced sideways at Dilshad Khan. He was still engrossed in his call. A golden chance. Atharva went on — “Your mother must have been fed up with the arguments. Mine definitely was.”
“She was deceased when I was very young.”
It hit Atharva like a ton of bricks. She had come in search of family, her mother…
“I am sorry to hear that. It must have been difficult growing up.”
“My elder sister was there.”
Mehrunisa.
“I am a single child myself,” Atharva gave a small smile. “Always been fascinated by the bonds of siblings. I have a nephew and a niece, eternally fighting. But because he is much older than her, lately it’s become all about him disqualifying her from his big-boy things.”
The Mir let out a quiet laugh, doing a quick check on Dilshad Khan — “My sister never disqualified me.”
“Is there a big age gap?”
“She is 15 years older than me, raised me like a mother.”
“So that’s the feminine touch I see in your palace,” Atharva widened his eyes. “A house well-cleaned and a house well-kept are two completely different sights.”
The Mir nodded. “My sister would love that compliment.”
“Please pass it on to her on my behalf.”
“I might not see her for another week but when I do, I will be sure to pass it on.”
Atharva’s blood cooled. If he wasn’t seeing his sister again, that meant she had left? Or was in the process of leaving… But OTP had said they were leaving after lunch. What if they were leaving right now?
Blood rushed to his feet. He wanted to run.
“I hear you are going to Nagar Jami Masjid from here?” The Mir asked, his first initiation of conversation.
“Yes,” Atharva answered distractedly, plotting alternate plans. Sikardarabad was a good two hours away. If he finished this free tour in the next hour, he could fake a headache, go to the hotel and then sneak out. It would be dangerous if he were caught. But he wouldn’t be caught. He never had been caught.
“Do make it a point to see its back gates,” the Mir’s words pulled him back. “The names of Kashmiri freedom fighters have been carved on it. There are more Hindu names than Muslim names.”
“I may not be able to visit the Masjid today. I think I am coming down with a headache.”
