Page 167 of The Circle of Exile
“You.”
She began to open her mouth to ask what that meant when it clicked. The night, and this news, was making her brain power stumble.
“Arth.”
“Atha…”
“The threats of reaching new peaks in life.”
She smiled.
“This has snowballed into bigger things, Iram. It started because of the PoK visit but now I see it. The vultures were waiting to pounce. Time turned for me and everybody else did too. I had my moment upstairs and now I am going to get my bearings back.”
“After you have officially stepped down from the CM’s chair, will this inquiry go away?”
“I am trying. Yogesh Patel will get a win at the centre. Momina Aslam will have a new enemy — the new CM to discredit.”
“But you just said that her MLAs were going to get together with Qureshi to pass the Motion of No Confidence against you.”
“The moment their collective goal is achieved, they are back to their individual goals. Politics.”
Iram sighed, glancing at the dark hall in front of them. The hall that had been alive with KDP members once, where it had all started. Where logistics had spread out printing materials and media team had partied it up after the Kishtwar victory. Where they had pulled all-nighters on coffee, kahwa and naan, where the result of election had been announced in the midst of the same people who had turned today. Great things had happened here, and she had been a part of them. And then she had washed it all out.
“Hey, myani zuv?”
“Hmm?”
“Look at me.”
She turned her face and met his soft eyes. Atharva reached for her palm and set it on his cheek, over his scar. He pressed it there, holding her gaze — “You were feeling my scar after months today and guilting yourself.”
She chuckled bitterly.
“What will a thousand Kashmirs mean to me without you?”
Iram slapped her fingers over her forehead, rattling with laughter.
“Isn’t it?”
“I didn’t want it to come to this. If I had known, if only I had thought before… so much has already been lost because of my one decision.”
“Jo beet gayi, so baat gayi.”
She peeked at him through her lashes — “I should be the one rising for you, telling you all this.”
“You did,” he rolled his eyes upstairs. “I am still a little terrorised by that threat.”
“Good. Be terrorised and believe in it.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“If you are not Janab, then I am not Madam.”
“Hey,” he pulled her bodily towards him. “I am leaving the chair of CM, not the title of Janab.”
She went one step ahead, letting herself go into his arms and falling into his lap. He caught her sideways, lost grey eyes now amused.
“What about Maverick and Ghalib?”
