Pasha never thought he would be subjected to such an interrogation. He closed his eyes, thinking. After nearly a minute, he opened his eyes slowly, “This is a state secret, Professor. Our intelligence has got information that the current government of India is weak. We had a tacit understanding with dragon. This is the time to strike.”

“What about the ‘No first use’ clause?” Qadar fired his next query. “We are supposed to use nukes only in retaliation. If we fire first, and on a democratic country, the West will fry us. The result would be just the reverse of what you are aiming for.”

Pasha was not prepared for this length of questioning. He pulled the curtains by saying, “Sir, I don’t have complete details. However, be assured that these things were thought of and have already been worked out. The West will not come after us. For that matter, neither will India.”

Qadar contemplated the soldier, from the corners of his eyes that were practically closed so that Pasha wouldn’t be able to figure out his opinion from his expression. He thought this Pasha might be some kind of joke that was being played upon him. Probably, the top echelon thought to evaluate his mental condition, more importantly his loyalties, guts and brains. As with all banana nations, here also the false government fears of intellectuals being a threat to their authority. Despite his body was eroding due to alcohol, his mind was sharp and he kept himself in touch with all world affairs, courtesy news channels.

Qadar knew that neither Pakistan’s command was strong, nor was India’s weak. And the cease fire celebrations in Switzerland (as if firing is happening there), where the not-so-official talk between ministers of India and Pakistan, of which only video was available. But, the talk resembled a reunion of old friends. Somehow, the chessboard seems to be occupied by a football covering entire board.

He got up and went to the bar. Pouring himself another drink, he changed the track of songs, which was also alien to the colonel.

“What songs are those you are listening to, Professor?” enquired Pasha, feeling satisfied that he could ask at least one question at last.

“Can’t you identify?”

Pasha pretended to concentrate and tried to identify the music. After a few seconds, he sighed and replied, “No. I can’t guess. But, it sounds like some Indian music.”

“Yes. This is now called Indian music. Can you imagine that these notes have roots in this land? We slowly forgot what we have created and started aping others. I think you are not following. Am I wrong?”

“Yes! No, no...” Pasha stumbled, as he simply could not put what the professor was rambling about.

Qadar laughed - he began slowly, and then grew louder. Ripples of laughter vibrated in the garden. Cool breeze caused the plants to sway and Pasha felt insulted, even by nature.

Qadar suddenly stopped laughing and asked, “Forget the music, my friend. Tell me, why won’t India come after us?”

“Because the strike is not direct. All India feels will be an earthquake. A massive one, caused by an underground explosion,” Pasha paused to observe Qadar.

“Please continue. I’m listening,” Qadar moved behind Pasha and patted his shoulder, “It is quite interesting,” he chuckled.

Pasha desperately wanted to feel confident, but could not. He continued, “A nuclear device will be exploded underground. The place was strategically selected to cause a major earthquake in the northern part of India.” He prevented any further questions from Qadar, “Don’t ask me the location. There are people who are experts in deciding such a location.”

“Okay. You have a workable plan there that may or may not yield desired results. But, here, results don’t matter. What matters is plan and execution. Still, there is the basic question. Why me? After all these controversies and being virtually kicked out of mainstream, in what way I can help you?”

Now, Pasha didn’t need to try to be confident; he already was. “Professor, this is supposed to be a clandestine operation. There will not be any involvement of Government machinery. All the plans, resources and execution will be totally unofficial,” he paused and sipped water. “The new people in the establishment are simple employees, including your replacement. They were recruited only for routine research. Have you noted that there were no additions to our arsenal after you quit? As such the nuclear research wing is not functional. Relatives of powerful men are hired there and get paid for doing nothing. So, we really can’t use them.”

Qadar was attentive. Pasha got encouraged, “You belong to a different league. People may never understand your contribution to the country. They may say he copied or bought nukes and passed off as originals. But, in those days of sanctions, representing Pakistan and buying anything even remotely connected to nukes was a daunting task. It is a pity that people could not comprehend and appreciate your ability to handle such delicate transactions. Of course, Government of the day recognised your endeavours, but subsequent authorities were not so strong and conceded to the pressure from the West...”

Qadar sensed that Pasha had deeply engrossed with delivering his speech to flatter him. He sank into one sofa and closed eyes, stretching his legs. Sensing the switch in Qadar’s mood, Pasha paused. Without giving a chance to Pasha to continue his speech, Qadar opened his eyes and waved at Pasha, indicating the end of meeting. “Excuse me colonel. I’m tired. We’ll continue tomorrow, if you don’t mind,” he said, and closed his eyes again.

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