Delhi – 24th March 1948
Arjun sat by his desk, seemingly lost in thought, watching the ceiling fan that barely stirred the humid air. Three days had passed since his broadcast, and the newspapers scattered across his desk told a story he'd written long before the words were ever printed.
THE TIMES OF INDIA: INDIA'S LAND REVOLUTION – ZAMINDARI SYSTEM ABOLISHED
HINDUSTAN TIMES: STATES REORGANIZED FOR UNITY – NEW MAP OF BHARAT UNVEILED
The headlines were satisfying, but Arjun had learned not to trust the calm that followed bold announcements. Real change came not from speeches but from what happened when the powerful realized their world was ending.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Patel entered without waiting for permission, his weathered face grim. "It's starting," he said, settling into the chair across from Arjun's desk. "Just as you predicted."
Arjun leaned back, unsurprised. "The Zamindars?"
"Money's already flowing. Our sources in Bihar report cash being distributed to local toughs. In Bengal, they're spreading rumors that the government will seize all of the private land, not just theirs.
The usual fear-mongering." Patel paused, consulting his notes. "There's also reports in Punjab about the linguistic reorganization. Some are calling it a British trick to divide us further."
Arjun stood and walked towards the window. Outside, Arjun could see the gardeners tending to the roses his predecessor had planted. Even the flowers required careful pruning to bloom properly.
"What about the language movements?"
"More sophisticated than we expected. They're mixing legitimate cultural concerns with separatist rhetoric. Makes it harder to dismiss them outright."
Patel's fingers drummed against the armrest. "The Telangana situation is particularly volatile. Our local administrator reports planned demonstrations next week."
Arjun walked to the map hanging on the far wall, tracing the boundaries of what would become the new linguistic states. Each line represented months of careful calculation, population studies, and economic assessments.
But to his opponents, they were just more evidence of governmental overreach.
"They think we're naive," he said finally. "That we'll panic at the first sign of resistance, make concessions, weaken our position." He turned back to Patel.
"They're about to learn otherwise."
The intercom buzzed. "Sir, Director Krishnamurthy from the CBI is here."
"Send him in."
Krishnamurthy entered with the bearing of a man accustomed to delivering unpleasant truths. Tall and lean, with prematurely gray hair and steel-rimmed spectacles, he carried a thick folder under his arm.
"Prime Minister, we've identified the primary funding sources. Three major Zamindari families in UP, two in Bengal, a cluster of smaller estates in Rajasthan and five Zamindari families in the southern regions.
Language issue is especially intense in the southern regions. We've identified 3 key language activists that are secretly funded by local political figures and are trying to fuel chaos and create an atmosphere of fear and panic.
The money's being funnelled through private temple trusts, madrasas, and few shady churches along with some wealthy estates."
He opened his folder, spreading photographs and documents across Arjun's desk. "We also have evidence of coordination. Letters, telegrams, even a few recorded telephone conversations."
Arjun studied the photographs – portly men in white kurtas, their faces bearing the soft arrogance of inherited wealth. "How long to build airtight cases?"
"With the new Prevention of Corruption Act? Without any political hurdle, a week for the financial crimes. The sedition charges will take longer, but we can move on the money immediately."
"Do it." Arjun's voice was flat, decisive.
"But I want more than arrests. I want exposure. Every rupee traced and every connection revealed. The public needs to understand that this isn't legitimate dissent – it's a dying elite's tantrum."
Patel shifted in his chair. "The local police will need coordination. Some district magistrates are sympathetic to the old families."
"Then we replace them." Arjun returned to his desk, pulling out a leather-bound notebook.
"Director Sharma's (formerly Colonel Sharma) people have been preparing for this. Every province gets a new internal security coordinator, answerable directly to Delhi. No more relying on local loyalties."
He began writing names, his pen scratching across the paper with mechanical precision.
"The demonstrations they're planning – we let them happen. But every agitator who crosses the line from protest to incitement gets arrested. Every pamphlet calling for secession gets traced back to its source. Every rupee funding violence...gets exposed."
Krishnamurthy nodded approvingly.
"Alright then, let's get these things done. The sooner, the better." Arjun closed the notebook.
"But remember gentlemen – we're not suppressing legitimate grievances.
A farmer worried about seed credit; a Telugu speaker concerned about cultural preservation – these are valid concerns we address through proper channels. It's the manipulation of these concerns for political gain that we crush."
The afternoon sun was setting when the three men finally finished their planning. As Patel and Krishnamurthy prepared to leave, Arjun called out one final instruction.
"Remember, we are not the British, ruling through fear and division. We are not the Congress old guard, paralyzed by idealistic indecision. We are the future of this nation, and the future requires difficult choices.
What we do in the coming weeks will determine whether India emerges strong and united, or fragments into a dozen squabbling kingdoms."
He paused, meeting each man's eyes in turn. "Make sure everyone understands the stakes."
The crackdown began at dawn on a Tuesday.
In Lucknow, CBI agents surrounded the mansion of Thakur Ramesh, freezing his accounts and seizing documents that revealed a web of payments to village strongmen.
By noon, All India Radio was broadcasting details of the "Zamindar Conspiracy," complete with recorded telephone conversations and photographed money transfers.
In Hyderabad, police arrested three prominent leaders of the Telangana Language Protection Committee, exposing their connections to monarchist elements seeking to restore the Nizam's influence.
The evidence was overwhelming – madrassa brainwashing, plans to disrupt government offices, and inflammatory pamphlets calling for "liberation from Delhi's tyranny."
Similar incidents were uncovered in Kerala (Travancore), where churches used the back-door political contacts to spread fear among the locals, and to incite protests and demonstration against the government.
The newspaper headlines told the story Arjun wanted told:
ZAMINDAR PLOT EXPOSED: CORRUPTION NETWORKS FUNDING FAKE PROTESTS
FOREIGN MONEY BEHIND SEPARATIST MOVEMENTS, CBI REVEALS
Within two weeks, the resistance had crumbled. The Zamindars, facing financial ruin and criminal prosecution, retreated to their estates to negotiate private surrenders.
9th April 1948
The language movements, now stripped of their extremist leadership, were exposed as partially foreign-funded movements. This news resulted in a split between legitimate cultural organizations and discredited separatist factions.
But Arjun took no satisfaction in the victory. Standing in his office as reports of successful arrests poured in, he felt only the weight of what he'd unleashed.
The machinery of state surveillance and control would not easily be contained, once it is activated. He'd built a weapon of extraordinary effectiveness – the question was whether he could keep it pointed in the right direction.
Patel, reviewing the final arrest reports, looked up with grim satisfaction. "It's done, Arjun. The remnants of the old order…are withering away."
Arjun nodded, but his eyes remained fixed on the map of India hanging on his wall. Each state boundary, each administrative division, each carefully calculated reform – all of it now protected by an iron fist wrapped under the blanket of 'democratic' legitimacy.
"No," he said quietly. "This is just the beginning."
"Sardar-ji, according to the intelligence reports, foreign funding was involved in Hyderabad. I have strong suspicions on the Islamic Bloc.
Even though they're quiet about the Pakistani issue for now, it's only a matter of time before they get involved, especially given the deteriorating food and humanitarian crisis in Pakistan."
"I want intelligence operatives to quietly keep an eye on the madrasas, infiltrate them if needed. We need to ensure that we have the account for every rupee that is being used by them.
Britain's intelligence should already have good enough base in the South Asian regions, now it's only a matter of time before US begins their intelligence outreach to India.
So I want you to keep an eye out for the churches that have been in contact with politicians in past, or are currently having the ability to influence the politics."
Patel frowned a bit. "But our intelligence agency is already stretched to limits. We're still training our new officers under the best IB officers and Director Sharma. It could take around two to three months to plug the gap."
"No hurries. We still have time", Arjun nodded.
"And yes, I almost forgot. I still need you to do something rather urgently, Sardar-ji", Arjun spoke, with his signature smile on his face. The smile that could only mean it would be anything but pleasant.