Page 44 of A Kiss in Kashmir

The Jeep slowed as the vegetation on either side of the road seemed to take over, the overgrown branches clawing at the vehicle, creating a disconcerting sense of entrapment. Suddenly Wajid braked hard as a big animal ran out of the darkness across in front of them.

As they watched the animal — it looked like a deer — disappear into the brush, Wajid said, “It was only about a year ago that George came out of his darkness. It was when he started touring the valley with me. He began to smile and be involved with life again,” Wajid said. “And now, I worry. I see him happy. You will go on with your life with Vikram. But my George, my brother. What of him?”

There were no more words exchanged on the topic for the rest of the trip.

They continued despite the fallen trees that blocked their path. The Jeep’s engine grumbled in protest against the high-altitude conditions, while a dense fog enveloped them, rendering visibility a mere illusion as the headlights reflected off the mist.

All other topics were forgotten as doubt crept into their minds, fueled by the unsettling stories Wajid had told Sharmila about their destination earlier. “I never knew that this place could be associated with the underground Nyay group. It has only ever been rumored to be a place of ill fate and tragedy—the most famous one being how many wildfires suddenly seem to start up there with no explanation.”

Sharmila checked her phone. There was no service. “If we get stuck here, what’s going to happen?”

Wajid turned the Jeep off the path as they came upon a tiny, paved road to the left.

“We cannot continue in this fog. I will park here for the night. We should be safe in the Jeep. We can take turns sleeping. We can start again in the morning. Okay?”

Sharmila nodded, though she was terrified. She wished George were with them. She worried about Alina. She wondered what Vikram would be like, how he would react to her. The thought of him giving his daughter away at the wedding and participating in the rituals actually made her smile. She wanted Alina to have a good relationship with her father—and she could hardly believe that it was a possibility now.

“Here,” Wajid said, giving her a couple of thick blankets. He told her to get some sleep, saying he would wake her in a few hours to take over the watch.

Neither of them really slept.

Finally the sun was up, and the morning’s tentative light gave them the incentive they needed to continue.

They finished the remaining tea, which was now cold despite being in the thermos.

“There it is.” This time it was Sharmila who saw the house—or what once could have been a house. It didn’t look like there was any life there. The forest around it had burnt to the ground. There was no wild vegetation, no garden, no animals, no birds, no signs of life.

“What is happening here, Wajid?”

Wajid simply shrugged.

“I would have bet my life that this place didn’t exist, but I guess it does. I wonder if I can do a ghost tour of Kashmir?” Wajid said, and instantly regretted his joke. “Sorry, bad timing. I am just nervous about being here.”

“No, no, don’t apologize. I feel bad that I have pulled you and George into my messy life. I am so sorry.” Sharmila worried about what they were going to find here.

“No, no,I’msorry. George and I are happy to help you. Once you came here and with us, you became family,” he said good-naturedly. “Now, let’s see what is happening here.”

With caution and curiosity, they ventured closer. Wajid looked around for men with rifles, for any signs of life. There didn’t seem to be anyone around.

“Stop. Stop right there or we will shoot.”

The booming voice came from within the house. Wajid and Sharmila stopped in their tracks, frozen.

“We are here with permission from Officer Sarkar,” Wajid called. “I am Wajid, and this is Sharmila. He said he called here to let you know.”

“Does this look like a place that accepts calls, you fool?” an old voice responded with a touch of laughter.

An old man with a larger-than-normal walking stick walked out of the manor. Behind him were about six other old men. One of them had a knife, but it didn’t look like anyone else was armed.

“Sir, we are here in peace. We are looking for a man. A family member. That is all.” Wajid’s voice was shaking. “For Vikram Pandit. We are looking for Vikram Pandit.”

“Then you are in the right place,” the old man replied.

Chapter 20

As soon as Sharmila and Wajid entered the hotel room, Alina all but pounced on her mother. “Ma!You haven’t answered a single call or text. George and I have been worried out of our minds. Ma, what happened? Why didn’t he come with you? Did he know about me? Did he recognize you?”

Sharmila looked past Alina to see George. He sat on the couch, his face creased with deep concern. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. Sharmila dropped into a chair by the table, and Wajid sat down on the other end of the couch as he winced from the pain in his ankle acting up.

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