Page 242 of The Circle of Exile
“How soon?”
“There are some moving parts for the Jammu-Kashmir Legislative Elections of 2020. They are 6-7 months away. If a certain outcome is manifested, Qureshi’s power diluted, then…”
“Yogesh Patel made any promises?”
“Who makes promises in politics, Iram? And if made, who fulfils them unless their interest is served?”
“But if Qureshi’s power is diluted, the next best thing is Janta Party. You look out for Yogesh Patel’s interest in Kashmir. In exchange, he brings you back.”
“Yes, but it is not so simple, no? Life does not operate in a vacuum, least of all politics. There are other parties, independents, Awaami. Local issues. People’s mood. And the drawback is that, unlike Himachal, I cannot travel across Jammu-Kashmir. I can’t even make so much official contact. Time has passed and the surveillance on me has gone down after I went into hibernation. But I don’t want to take another risk.”
“Adil?”
“Too risky. He is the only man there whom I can trust. I can’t take the chance of having him ousted. And… he has put his neck on the line for me multiple times.”
“Mirza!”
Atharva nodded. “He is one. But he doesn’t know how to get political work done. I am sending Vikram for that.”
“Vikramaditya Rana? Why would he leave Himachal? Now his agenda is complete. HJS is gone.”
“And that’s the thing with completed agendas. You must move on from them.”
“But will he go?”
“He will go.”
Iram stared at her husband. She hadn’t met Vikram as often or as personally to know what kind of man he was. But Atharva had worked closely with him over the last couple of years. And the fact that he wanted to work with him for something as delicate and significant as Kashmir was a testament to the trust that had developed between them.
“And I have to start laying groundwork for Punjab and Uttarakhand. I have more travelling on my plate in the coming months than I did in the last two years put together.”
“You need to keep a low profile, Atharva.”
“And I will. Right now, the party is not even a talking point in these states. I am long forgotten as a face. Don’t worry, I will be doing small village rallies and nukkad charcha. Nothing worthy of press.”
“Hmm…” she bit her lip. “Just be careful.”
“There’s just one catch.”
“What?”
“I need a speechwriter.”
She burst out laughing.
“Why are you laughing at me?”
“Secret recipe Maggi bowls, letting me eat the extra from yours, Rafi on the gramophone — what a way to woo your Ghalib, Janab.”
He smirked — “It’s worked a time or two.”
She rolled her eyes, finding the big, round, yellow moon beaming at her. “It’s been ages since I last wrote a speech.”
“It had been 29 years of not writing a speech at all when you wrote my Kashmir University speech.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I have no idea about Punjab or Uttarakhand. Nothing about their politics, history, culture…”
“On a scale of 1 to 10, you were -2 on Kashmir issues when you started at KDP.”
