by Gauri Mittal
He looked taken aback. “Well, neither does Pranav or Shakuntala, the committee member. She was a banker. The only one who does have experience is the general and you. You, with successfully administrating a school from scratch, two years in running a mental health workshop that was basically organized by you, although Geetika and Dr Rajeev are the ones in focus for obvious reasons. That is more than I can say about most others.”
“What about someone from among the army men and women?” I asked.
“They are already doing a tough and important job. They are needed where they already are,” he said. “Moreover, I think we need to recruit more able-bodied guards for the city, from amongst civilians, to increase the strength of the security forces.”
I had no desire to listen anymore. I felt I was betraying Pranav’s friendship. “No, I will relinquish my nomination and lend my support to Pranav. He is my friend and I have no desire to stand against him.” I left him sitting there.
After lunch, I met Pranav, and we stayed back in the cafeteria to talk as per his request.
“I know you are busy,” he said, “so I won’t take much of your time. But I have to ask you two very important things.”
He seemed slightly nervous before he began. “Madhavi, it is estimated we still have a few years before we can get out of here and build a society back on Earth. I do not want to delay asking you this anymore. What we currently live in is not a normal society, otherwise I wouldn’t ask you this question so abruptly, giving us some more time. Madhavi, will you marry me and lend me your support for the presidential election?”
I stared at him, speechless. “Excuse me?” I said at last.
“Well, let me frame it a little differently. I want to tell you that I like you very much. I think you are perfect, and I would’ve asked you to date me if we lived in a normal society, but as we do not have that luxury, I am asking you directly to marry me. We might not do it immediately, but we will be engaged.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I just said, “And?”
“The second thing is about the election nomination. I was thinking, you could lend me your support for the election. Many people have been nominated by the public among the more recognizable faces, and since you have been running the school and the mental health workshops for more than two years now, you have obviously become a well-known face, especially among the families of 2nd Street and the women of 1st Street. I think it is a great idea for both of us to work on this together, if you lend me your support.”
“You mean if I give up my nomination,” I stated in an expressionless voice.
“Well, yes, but you know we would be more powerful if we were to work on it together.”
“How about you give up your nomination and support me instead, then?” I asked coolly.
He said nothing.
“I have decided to run for president,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And I am sorry, but I have to decline your marriage proposal to date or marry.”
We sat in awkward silence for a little more time. “It’s because of Aarav, isn’t it?” he asked. “You love him. You have always loved him, even when we were making our journey from Rajgar to Shunya and you desperately wanted to save him by getting off the truck alone in Varshi.”
“Yes,” I answered.
“He is weak and unambitious,” he said, his face angry. “I am sure you will see the error of your ways in time. I will wait for you till then.”
My lip curled slightly. “You’re wrong, Pranav. You do not know him. Aarav is a man of real strength. Because his strength lies in his character, which allows his love to be selfless.”
We said nothing more for almost five minutes. I had stepped on Pranav’s ego, and his anger showed on his face. He got up slowly. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast,” he said and left the cafeteria.
*
In the days the followed, Pranav showed no sign of anger or hurt, contradictory to what I had expected. He sat with everyone as usual during mealtimes and spoke as he usually did, except for occasionally being overly sarcastic with Aarav.
Three days after the proposal, while sitting in the small meeting room of the school, I saw him storm out of committee room of the admin building. The room was empty, Ayesha and the new physical education teacher Ms Bajwa being in class. Vishwaroopum followed Pranav out five minutes later. The latter saw me sitting in the meeting room and came over.
“If you heard that ruckus, I am sorry,” Vishwaroopum said.
“What ruckus?” I asked. “I only saw Pranav come out of the room in anger.”
He sat down on the chair across from me. “He asked me about my nomination. I told him I was giving it up, and he was happy. He said at least he had someone among his friends who was willing to support him. When I told him sorry that I couldn’t, he flew off the handle. He accused me of betraying his trust. Also of being an escapist. He told me if I can’t support him, I should run myself and compete with him.” Vishwaroopum sighed. “Maybe I really am an escapist. I just want to live this life freely. What do you think, Miss Madhavi?”
“I don’t think that at all,” I said. “I think you just have a clear idea about what kind of life you want. There is nothing wrong in not wanting to be what the world considers to be great and successful. Not everyone finds the ultimate happiness in great career achievements.”
“He also used some strong words against Aarav, calling him weak for not wanting to run for president and pushing the burden onto you,” he added.
I chuckled humourlessly. “Pushing me? Aarav would be very happy if he was ever able to make me do something in his life. Aarav is not someone who hungers for power, and he has found his peace. I have faith if I asked him right this minute to take my place and ‘bear my burden’, he would do so without hesitation. But this is not his burden to bear. It is something I need to do for myself.”
“What have you decided?” Vishwaroopum asked.
“I have decided to run for president,” I said.
“Oh, that’s great news.” He clapped his hands together.
Since it was a small community of almost 3,500 people, the election process would be presidential instead of parliamentary. The head, or the president, would be chosen directly from the people and voted on by the people.
Vishwaroopum, was nominated by three members of the former prime minister’s committee, the PMC. Among the civilians, three thousand were qualified adults. Two hundred were below eighteen years of age, some were physically injured or mentally unfit, and the rest was comprised of army men and women who were not allowed to run for office unless they applied for voluntary retirement.
Among the prime minister’s committee, three members nominated themselves as potential candidates. Pranav, the general, and Shakuntala. The remaining three members of the committee nominated Vishwaroopum.
Among the four nominated by the public, the first was Gulshan Prakash Kumar, the head of the two-forty-member-strong Kalkani group. He had been nominated by the members of his sect.
The second, Lakshmi Diwedi Banot, the lady with the baby, whom Aarav had rescued and who was one of Madhavi’s first friends among the families that worked on the farms. She was well regarded, and people liked her social nature. She was very surprised when her name was announced and was not thrilled by the nomination.
The third was me.
*
Geetika was sitting on the ground, in the middle of the crop fields, with Ayesha and a young fourteen-year-old girl. Ayesha was playing some music from a borrowed phone, and the girl was singing along. Some of the other farmers were humming around them as they worked on the crops.
I made my way to them, tiptoeing over the narrow rows.
“Madhavi!” Geetika exclaimed. “It’s your turn now. Suggest a song, and if Ayesha has it, we will play it from the phone or even better, we will sing it.”
“Yes, Miss Madhavi. Tell us,” Tara the young girl said, getting up excitedly.
“Why aren’
t you in class, Tara?” I asked her.
“I heard Ms Ayesha and Dr Geetika say they were going to the farms to listen to music, and my mother never lets me accompany her to the farms. I thought she wouldn’t say anything if I was with a teacher.” She gestured to Ayesha. “Do you hear the faint sound of water here? They told me it’s a lake that is continuously filling and emptying into other lakes.”
I smiled. “Well, don’t let me catch you out of class after today. I want you to learn and stay in school, okay?”
“All right, Miss Madhavi.” She sat down.
“What have you decided, Madhavi?” Ayesha asked me over the soft sound of music that filled the huge cave. The LED lights gave out a bright purplish hue. I sat down with them, stretching my legs, taking support with my palms behind me.
I adjusted my kurta. “Regarding what?”
“Your nomination, of course,” she said.
“What would you have done?” I asked my friends.
“It terrifies me, frankly,” said Geetika. “What I know is medicine, and I want to stick to it.”
“What about you, Ayesha?” I said. “You are quite well-known among the families here. The music teacher and the woman with the wonderful voice.” I smiled. “You became even more well-known after you started participating in the mental health workshops.”
She waved me off. “I am made for music, Madhavi. I cannot be bound by the rules and regulations of administrative work. You have the capacity for implementing big ideas. You can lead. I can’t, and I don’t want to. I want to see you make Shunya an easier place to live in.”
“She’s right, Madhavi,” Geetika said. “You can do it. Vishwaroopum says you are the best bet for the city’s future. Although I don’t know what you have discussed with Pranav about regarding this matter, I think you ought to try. If, by the time we go back out to the surface, it falls on to us to restart society, we would already have a skeleton of a system to build on.”
“You’ve decided to run for president, Miss Madhavi?” asked Tara. “May I tell my mother and the others?”
Madhavi sighed. “Yes, I have. Let them all know. Tell them I hope for their support.”
*
One month in, the final candidates were announced. There was now a total of five candidates in running. Lakshmi had withdrawn her nomination, quite indignant that people had nominated her without asking for her opinion.
Vishwaroopum was the second to withdraw his nomination and consequently lend support to my candidacy. It initially caused an uproar among the supporters of the other candidates, but that eventually died down.
Security was tightened. The campaign was held in the form of election programs with fortnightly events in the announcement hall. Sometimes there were speeches, sometimes simple discussions and mingling with the public. Each of us had to make a manifesto that outlined our vision and the main goals that we saw ourselves achieving in the coming four years and talk about it in front of the public.
The guards had been stationed inside the cafeteria till the time of the elections so that no one disturbed the candidates while they ate. I could no longer oversee the workings of the school as the head. Aarav requested his working hours in the communications department to be cut by half, consequently volunteering to do so on my behalf.
Though Aarav and I had no time or place to spend alone time where we could talk of our relationship or discuss our feelings, we did spend countless days and nights in the cafeteria, sitting next to each other at our usual table, discussing my speeches and the points of the manifesto. Most of the time Vishwaroopum would join us, and sometimes Geetika. Sometimes the latter would invite us to use her cabin for discussions when it was free from her patients.
Pranav, on the other hand, had stopped talking to Aarav and Vishwaroopum but behaved as usual with me. He had completely stopped taking meals with us due to the presence of Aarav, but he would come and meet me at the school meeting room, which I still at times used for my work, to talk about matters other than the elections. I wondered if he still harboured hope that I would relinquish my candidacy and support him or agree to his proposal, the one that had been non-political, but he did not mention either of the two points whenever we met.
He would sometimes talk to me about what my aspirations were for when we left the city and accompany me to visit Ashima in the hospital. Pranav neither encouraged nor discouraged me in the presidential campaign.
After I told Aarav I only felt gratitude and friendship for Pranav, he was no longer jealous. I did not tell Aarav about Pranav’s marriage proposal—they were already on bad terms as it was. I did not want more turbulence in anyone’s life.
I went to meet Ashima by myself the first fifteen days after the final nominations had been declared. She was lying in bed in the hospital ward, her head covered with a cotton cap. She was curled on her side, reading a book.
“Inside the Belly of the Earth,” I said, quoting the name of the book.
She looked over. “Oh, hello, Madhavi.”
“Almost finished, it seems?” I gestured to the book.
“Yes. The patients here are really glad for the library. Although the stories are kind of ridiculous, one does find a rare gem at times.”
“Well, some of them are written by children who study in the school,” I said. “The adults in the city write some too, but that happens less often than we would like. I’ll ask our small team to get some of the better ones for you.”
I came over and sat on the stool by her side.
She remained silent for some time, seeming to be engrossed in her book. But then she asked abruptly, “How did you do it?”
“Do what?” I asked, clueless about what was coming.
“How did you get him to fall for you?”
Her eyes, I noted, held a rebellious look. Was it directed at me?
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.
“You know it very well, Madhavi.” She was glaring at me now. Her beautiful face was contorted in anger. “You have everything. Everyone here in the city adores you. Whoever comes to meet me, be it our friends or the women who used to live near my room on 1st Street, everyone keeps talking about you.
“And lately it has become so bad even the patients around me talk of nothing but the elections and the young, beautiful, and competent Miss Madhavi. You must be ecstatic. Then, finally, you snatch away my only reason for surviving in this godforsaken city,” she cried. “Couldn’t you have at least let me have Aarav? Do you have to take everything?”
People had started looking towards us curiously. I took in a deep breath to reign in my anger. An outburst was going to be of no help.
“What did Aarav say to you, Ashima?” I asked calmly.
“He didn’t say anything to me about you, but I am not stupid. I can see his face when he talks about you. At first, I could sense longing in his eyes when he talked of you. I thought he would get over it and see how much I loved him. I know I might die, but he gave me hope that I would recover and we would be together, but over the last month or so, I knew he had drifted away from me. He wouldn’t stop talking about you and how you are so amazing. I knew you had snatched him away.” Her voice was laced with bitterness. She broke down and started sobbing, her face buried in her palms.
I felt helpless. Would my comforting make her feel worse? She was clearly suffering. She had temporarily lost her hair from chemotherapy, was suffering from intense nausea, possibly on the verge of death. And I had taken away her only refuge, and I knew how that felt. I was in place to lessen her pain in a small way. I did not know if what I was going to say to her was right or wrong, but I couldn’t bear to see her sob so brokenly, especially when I knew the reason was me.
I got up and slowly put my right hand over her shoulder. “It’s not true, Ashima. Aarav and I are not together.” I stopped. I did not want to lie about it. What if it became true? What if he really left me? But seeing her quieten upon hearing my words, I continued. “You don’t have to worry. Aa
rav is still your friend. He will keep you company and help you get through the pain. You will be all right. Geetika told me last week you are recovering.” My chest tightened, and something clutched at my heart, but I stomped on it mercilessly.
She looked up at me with doll-like eyes, her face stained with tears. “So you won’t take him away from me?” she asked, her eyes again filling with tears.
“No,” I said reluctantly.
She finally smiled, but I couldn’t reciprocate the gesture.
“Come sit with me,” she said, and I did. “You know, Pranav really likes you. I believe he is a great match for you. Besides, he holds a position in the former prime minister’s office. You two would be great together. He is caring and attentive. Ah, yes, did he ask you to marry him yet? He told me last week he would. It was a secret between us.” She was now giggling.
I swallowed. I was hating this conversation, but she was waiting for an answer. She repeated the question. “Well, did he?”
“No,” I lied again.
Five minutes later, I was out of the hospital ward and went straight to Geetika’s outpatient room. The guard posted outside her room recognized me instantly and let me enter.
“Madhavi! Just the person I wanted to see,” she said. Her face was serious. “I had Aarav visit me just a few minutes ago, looking all over for you. He said for you to not go back to your quarters. Apparently the supporters of the Kalkani leader have devised some sinister plan to get one of their female members to have an ‘accident’ with you in which you get are to get seriously injured. He says one of Vishwaroopum’s informants told him of it. Vishwaroopum is trying to find a witness or some proof of their plan to implicate them. He’s here,” she said, looking over my shoulder.
I turned around, to see Aarav stride with haste. “Madhavi! Where have you been? It is not wise for you to roam around till the elections are over. Listen, you can’t go to 1st Street. Those bastards are planning something.” His hands were on my shoulders, trying to drill in the seriousness of what he said, but seeing my tensed expression, he mellowed his words. “You don’t have to worry. Nothing will happen, but promise me you won’t go to 1st Street.”