A Vision of Fire CHAPTER 1 It was an unseasonably warm October morning, better suited for a stroll than a stride, but Ganak Pawar and his daughter maintained their usual quick pace up the east side of Manhattan. The permanent representative of India to the United Nations, veteran of thirty years as a foreign-service officer, wore a practiced expression of tolerance. Sixteen-year-old Maanik seemed especially energized by the blanket of sunlight that spilled across York Avenue. "Papa, your presentation last night was amazing!" Maanik said. "I couldn''t get to sleep for hours, my brain was alive with so many ideas." "That is gratifying," her father replied. "It''s time for people to think differently about Kashmir and you made that point with the General Assembly," she said. "I''m glad CNN covered it, it was totally inspiring.
" "I am glad you feel so. I am not being universally thanked for it." "Papa, you got in their faces. That took courage!" Ganak smiled. "I ''got in their faces,'' did I?" "You know what I mean," his daughter said, grinning. "Anyway, don''t be so modest, especially now. Now is the time for a determined follow-up." Ganak wasn''t sure if it was courage or desperation that had compelled him to show the video of a Kashmiri mother immolating herself over her dead son.
Tensions occurred in Kashmir every few years but this time it felt different. Thirty-two people had died in two days, and Pakistan and India were once again rattling their nuclear sabers. Perhaps that familiar, tired bragging had driven Ganak to suggest they make Kashmir a UN protectorate. If the UN temporarily governed the region, as it had in Kosovo for nine years, that could buy time for the populace to choose whether to join one country or the other, or to opt for independence . "Papa?" "Yes?" "I want to be part of that follow-up," Maanik said, bouncing in her stride with excitement. "You should hear my ideas." He smiled as he regarded her. She looked so mature in her brown faux leather jacket over a dark blue dress.
Her leggings were orange and gold, one leg striped horizontally, the other swirling in a feather pattern. She had sewn the disparate halves together herself and matched them with an orange and gold scarf. He noticed with surprise that she had begun to pluck her eyebrows, and though her black hair had always been strong and thick, the way she arranged it over her shoulder was a recent development. She is so unlike her mother, he thought. When the Pawar family had moved from New Delhi to Manhattan two years ago and Maanik started at Eleanor Roosevelt High School, the girl immediately began to change. Where her mother, Hansa, was reflective, Maanik did her thinking aloud. Where Hansa planned, Maanik improvised. Hansa embraced tradition but Maanik liked to Rollerblade on the sly with the son of the Canadian ambassador.
The Pawars'' American bodyguard, Daniel-who was walking a few paces behind them-was charged with clandestinely keeping an eye on the young lady when she was not at home. Ganak couldn''t decide whether he was concerned at her shrugging off the old ways or if he was proud that she lived her own life. Hansa did not like it but Ganak was not sure, and his diplomatic skills were sometimes tested at home in ways that could rival the current crisis in Kashmir. Thinking of India and Pakistan pulled down the edges of his smile. These days, walking Maanik to school was one of his only refuges. "Maanik, I want to hear your ideas but I must caution you, sometimes it is wise to pause after a push." "How can that be wise?" she asked. "If something is moving, why not keep it in motion?" "I read the reports from home before we left this morning.
India and Pakistan are both infuriated even while the rest of the world applauds the idea of a protectorate." "That''s my point," Maanik said, undaunted. "Now you need to convince India and Pakistan." "Ah. It is that simple?" "Maybe not so simple, but my ideas can help with that. I''ve been thinking up op-eds for you, press releases, but especially"-she turned and walked backward, facing him and glowing-"what if you let me interview you on video, talking about the situation? Networks would eat that up, parents would watch it with their children, it would be casual and nonthreatening but with our hearts in it, you know? We could get people used to your proposal through conversation instead of arguments. If we get it just right, maybe it could go viral." Ganak was impressed.
Maanik had prepared a presentation of her own. This revelation about his daughter was one of the reasons that, even in the middle of a crisis, he insisted on maintaining their half-hour, no-cell-phones walk to school. "Those are very creative ideas, Maanik." "Okay! So the next step is, I take a break from school and get an internship with you at United Nations headquarters. Actually, school will probably count that as a class-" Ganak interrupted. "Interns at the headquarters must be in graduate school. High school students are out of the question." "But, Bapu"-she softened him with the Hindi word for "Daddy"-"I have the intelligence and the desire and right now my help is crucial.
" "I appreciate your interest, but every member of the staff is well-credentialed, not just well-intentioned." "An exception can be made-" "Exceptions are the exceptions," he said. Maanik frowned. "I don''t even understand that." "It means no. I''m sorry, Maanik." She turned and walked forward again, visibly frustrated. "So I am supposed to just waste my days thinking up ideas and never making any of them happen?" "You are a very exceptional young lady-" "And I am telling you, I am wasting time at school.
" "You are learning about other lives, other times." "While I ignore the fact that our homeland could erupt into war? I am trapped in irrelevance, Bapu. I want to help." "Your books are not irrelevant." "Really? And what if one crazy officer in one of the armies actually prepares to launch a warhead this time? What would you do, talk to him about a novel you read? Or a poem?" "Maanik, my life, you are about to lose this argument." He smiled. "Oh?" She stopped on the corner of Seventy-Sixth Street, shifted her weight onto one hip, and raised her eyebrows at him. "How?" He grinned.
"You are young and impatient. I have been where you have been, but you have not been where I have been." Maanik turned suddenly to the six-foot-two blond man with the crooked nose who stood behind them. "Daniel, do you think that''s a good argument?" "I am neutral in this, ma''am," said the bodyguard with a smile. Behind the reflective sunglasses his eyes were on the pedestrians who moved around them, peripherally watching the cars drive too quickly on the avenue. He looked along the street as they got a walk sign, and they crossed York into a narrow block full of red brick and green leaves just starting to turn. "Maanik," Ganak admonished, "allow him to do his job." His voice softened quickly.
It always did with his daughter. "As for you, your job is to learn patience and to get an education and experience, from which grow wisdom." "Patience," she said impatiently. "Do you know that is my primary job? To guide patiently, compassionately. To nudge people along, not to wrench them to my goal, my will. I work toward a Kashmir protectorate, but slowly. Do you see this as less courageous than shaking your fist or raising your voice? I tell you, it is more!" The young woman suddenly looked like the little girl who was still so green in her father''s memory. They walked in silence.
He impulsively took her hand in his. She squeezed it tightly. They reached the stretch of sidewalk before the school doors. It was full of students and a few teachers sending texts or hurrying through conversations before the activities of the first period began at seven forty-five. Today was Human Rights Club, which alternated with Model UN. But Maanik was not rushing to find her friends. Her father saw that she was thinking hard and he almost regretted the conversation. As he looked around, it appeared as if everyone outside the school was subdued.
After he had shown the video of the mother''s suicide to the General Assembly, it had gone viral. He regretted that, especially considering that some of these teenagers had probably watched it, and many more of them must have heard about it. But the world needed a push so that the endless tensions in Kashmir could finally be laid to rest. The Security Council had to pressure India and Pakistan or they would only pressure each other until yes, one day, perhaps a mad general would put an end to the tensions in a much worse way. The ambassador was aware that he had made the situation even more serious. So, after pushing his daughter from a place where she felt she might have some influence, Ganak could not blame her for falling into solemnity. "Do not dwell on this," he said, kissing her forehead. "Trust your father.
" "I do," she said. "It''s the others I do not trust." He smiled. "And that is the problem, is it not? Someone m.