"First — Jinnah." Vikram paused, choosing his words with surgical precision. "Muhammad Ali Jinnah is dying."
The room went absolutely still. Patel's expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed fractionally.
"On what basis do you make this claim?" V.P. non asked sharply.
"I have connections to a source within Jinnah's dical circle," Vikram lied smoothly.
He'd rehearsed this cover story a dozen tis. "Jinnah has been consulting Dr. Jal Patel in Bombay for the past two years for a persistent respiratory condition. The diagnosis, which Jinnah has kept secret from everyone including his closest political allies, is tuberculosis — advanced, and possibly complicated by further disease. My source estimates he has eighteen months to two years to live. At most."
Vikram watched the room absorb this information.
He could see the calculations happening behind every pair of eyes — the political implications cascading outward like ripples in a pond.
If Jinnah dies, who leads the Muslim League? Liaquat Ali Khan? He lacked Jinnah's charisma and iron will.
The League without Jinnah was a body without a spine.
"This is an extraordinary claim," Patel said slowly. "You understand that if you're wrong — or lying — the consequences for your credibility will be severe."
"I understand completely, Sardar sahab. I am willing to stake everything on this information. And I would suggest that it can be independently verified. A discreet inquiry to Dr. Jal Patel — or even surveillance of Jinnah's dical appointnts — would confirm what I'm telling you."
Patel's gaze bored into him for several seconds. Then the Sardar turned to V.P. non. "V.P., can this be verified?"
non was already making notes. "I have contacts in Bombay. It will take a few days, but yes, I can investigate this discreetly."
Patel nodded and turned back to Vikram. "Your two minutes are not up. Continue."
---
"Second — Bengal." Vikram moved to the map on the wall, his confidence growing. He could feel the room's attention sharpening, the skepticism being slowly replaced by curiosity. "The conventional wisdom is that if Partition happens, Bengal will be divided along religious lines — Hindu west to India, Muslim east to Pakistan. I believe this is not only unnecessary but strategically catastrophic."
He pointed to the map, tracing the boundaries of Bengal with his finger. "East Bengal is the rice bowl of the subcontinent. It has sixty million people, the world's largest river delta, vast agricultural potential, and the port of Chittagong, which provides access to Southeast Asian trade routes. Losing East Bengal to Pakistan would be one of the greatest strategic blunders in Indian history."
"We know all this," Shankar Rao Deo said impatiently. "The question is how to prevent it."
"By offering Bengali Muslims sothing better than Pakistan," Vikram said. "And this is where my third point cos in — the strategic frawork."
He turned to face the room. "Jinnah's appeal to Muslims rests on one fundantal argunt: that Muslims will be a permanent, powerless minority in a Hindu-dominated India. This argunt resonates because, frankly, it contains a kernel of truth. The Congress has not done enough to assure Muslims that their rights, their culture, and their political voice will be protected in an independent India."
A few people shifted uncomfortably. Vikram pressed on.
"My proposal is this: instead of fighting the idea of Muslim political autonomy, we co-opt it. Offer the Muslim-majority provinces — Bengal, Punjab, Sindh, the Frontier — a level of autonomy within the Indian Union that makes Pakistan unnecessary. Not a loose federation, which Nehru ji has rightly rejected as unworkable, but a structured devolution of power with constitutional guarantees."
"Specifically for Bengal, I propose the following: a United Bengal Province within the Indian Union, with its own provincial assembly, guaranteed Muslim representation through reserved seats and weighted voting, protection of Urdu and Bengali as official languages, autonomous control over education and cultural affairs, and proportional representation in the central governnt and military."
Vikram paused, letting the proposal sink in. He could see the reactions dividing the room.
So were intrigued. Others were skeptical. A few looked hostile.
"This is the Cabinet Mission Plan repackaged," V.P. non said critically. "It was rejected last year."
"With respect, V.P. sahab, this is different in two critical ways," Vikram replied. "First, the Cabinet Mission Plan was imposed by the British. This would be an Indian offer, from the Congress, demonstrating genuine commitnt to Muslim inclusion. The psychological difference is enormous. Second, the Cabinet Mission Plan tried to apply a one-size-fits-all solution to all of India. I'm proposing a targeted approach — focused on Bengal specifically, where the cultural ties between Hindus and Muslims are strongest and the case for unity is most compelling."
He took a breath. "There is a third factor, which returns to my first point. Jinnah is dying. The Muslim League's unity depends on his personal authority. If we can delay the final decision on Partition by even six months — negotiating in good faith on the Bengal proposal while quietly verifying Jinnah's health — the political landscape will shift dramatically. Jinnah's lieutenants in Bengal, particularly Suhrawardy and Abul Hashim, are already ambivalent about joining a Punjabi-dominated Pakistan. Give them an alternative worth choosing, and they will take it."
Silence filled the room.
Vikram stood by the map, his heart hamring, watching Patel's face for any reaction.
The Sardar was utterly still, his expression unreadable. But his eyes — those piercing, analytical eyes — were alive with calculation.
Finally, Patel spoke.
"Sit down, young man."
Vikram sat.
Patel was quiet for a long mont, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Then he looked at V.P. non.
"V.P., I want Jinnah's dical situation verified within the week. Use every contact we have in Bombay. Complete discretion — if word gets out that we're investigating this, it will backfire catastrophically."
non nodded. "Understood."
Patel turned to the colonel in military uniform. "Colonel Thapa, I want a strategic assessnt of our military position in Bengal. If we need to secure East Bengal by force — as a last resort — what would that require?"
The colonel straightened. "I'll have a report ready in five days, Sardar sahab."
Patel looked around the room. "Does anyone else have thoughts on Mr. Rathore's proposal?"
Shankar Rao Deo leaned forward. "It's clever, I'll grant that. But there's a fundantal problem. Nehru ji. He's already leaning toward accepting Partition. If he agrees to Mountbatten's plan before we can implent this alternative—"
"Nehru ji," Patel said, with a heaviness that suggested this was a conversation he'd had many tis, "will need to be persuaded. That is my responsibility. What I need from all of you is preparation — facts, figures, strategic assessnts, and a detailed constitutional proposal for this autonomous Bengal model." He paused. "I want it on my desk in one week."
His gaze returned to Vikram. The young man felt the weight of that look like a physical force.
"Mr. Rathore."
"Yes, Sardar sahab."
"You will work with V.P. on the Bengal proposal. I want specifics — constitutional provisions, economic projections, everything. You seem to have given this considerable thought. Now put it on paper."
Vikram nodded, struggling to keep his expression neutral while his mind scread with triumph. 'I'm in. He's listened. The first domino is falling.'
"And Mr. Rathore?"
"Yes?"
Patel's eyes held his. "If your information about Jinnah proves false, don't bother coming to see again. If it proves true..." He didn't finish the sentence, but the implication was clear.
If it proves true, you'll have the Iron Man of India's trust. And with his trust, you'll have access to the levers of power.
"It will prove true, Sardar sahab," Vikram said quietly. "I stake my life on it."
Sothing flickered in Patel's eyes — respect, perhaps, or at least the suspension of disbelief. He gave a curt nod and turned to the next item on his agenda, and just like that, the most important conversation of Vikram's new life was over.
To be Continued..
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