Bathinda to Bangkok Read online

  KNOCK!KNOCK!

  We’d eaten dinner and come. But I knew about Raj and Simran. Their stomachs were like wells. How much ever food you threw inside, they were still empty.

  ‘Not me,’ Simran replied, busy trying thee clothes and admiring herself in thee mirror.

  Raj didn’t answer, he busy snoring loudly. Good, I thought, let Tarzan suffer at night. I wasn’t doing competition, baba, but ya, I was much better sleeping partner than Raj.

  ‘We didn’t order room –’ I opened thee door.

  And died.

  ‘Surprise!’ Dumpy yelled, throwing his hands around me and picking me up.

  ‘Dumpy! Put me down!’

  In reply he started making circles. It was his lucky day ki I didn’t vomit my whole dinner on his head.

  ‘The lady asked you to put her down,’ came quiet voice.

  Uff!

  Tarzan had come like public holiday on Sunday. At very wrong time.

  Dumpy made one last circle and put me down.

  They looked at each other like candidates fighting for thee same Lok Sabha seat.

  Uff!

  After I’d made chutiyapa-type mistake of proposing to Dumpy last year, they had become like Kejri and NaMo.

  ‘Dumpy!’ Simran gasped, stepping out of thee room. ‘You? Here?’

  ‘Oyee, my laddoo, barfi, jalebi, I was missing you,’ he sang, rushing to her.

  ‘But how did you know I was in Bangkok?’

  ‘I found out from our travel agent,’ Dumpy said proudly, like he’d come first in IIT entrance exam.

  I wanted to take flight to Ludhiana, give their travel agent chittars (oho, beating) and come back. Khotta! Sending everyone to Thailand.

  Dumpy picked Simran up and started going round and round.

  ‘Is that his standard greeting?’ Tarzan said in Phenyl voice, ‘Or does he reserve that enthusiasm for the girls he’s crushing on?’

  I gave Tarzan one elbow shot in his hard stomach.

  ‘Shhh!’ I said under my breath, showing him eyes.

  It was thee truth. Dumpy’s needle used to be stuck on me. And that’s why Simran used to act like sweet knife with me. Thanks to God, we’d became – oho, not friends, but civilised with each other. But she still had STD (Suspense, Tension, Depression) thanks to Dumpy and I didn’t want her to get insecure about me again.

  Raj came out of thee room, rubbing his eyes. ‘What’s all the noise?’

  ‘Ludhiana Reunion,’ Tarzan told him.

  ‘Dumpy?’ Raj blinked as Dumpy put Simran down.

  ‘Way to keep the elopement a secret, guys,’ Tarzan muttered. ‘What next? The entire baraat two days early?’

  I was also bugged up. First Raj, then Simran, then Dumpy. This was conducted tour of Thailand or what?

  Didn’t they understand anything? Or they understood everything but didn’t care? We had to – had to – keep Dingy and Andeep’s elopement secret. Okay, fine, Raj and Simran were outsiders, but what about Dumpy? Why was he acting like duffer and risking exposing thee truth?

  ‘Don’t worry, Mahi, nothing will happen,’ Raj said putting arm around me like loving BF.

  He should have stopped there, but did overacting like SRK and kissed my head also.

  Two mouths fell down. Dumpy’s. Simran’s. One mouth became thin line. Tarzan’s.

  I was too tired to take Dumpy or Raj’s class, so I marched inside thee room without wishing anyone good night. But Bhooto’s ‘Hai hai note-ban’ WhatsApps didn’t let me sleep.

  Next morning, Baadshah (not king, rap singer) beat Bhooto in waking me up. He was singing Chull, ladki kar gayi chull outside thee bedroom. I sat up straight and stretched my body. Simran kept sleeping like she was dead body.

  I went out to find Dumpy hunting for his phone.

  Uff!

  Him and his ring tone. Always on maximum volume.

  But Raj was selling horses and sleeping like his sister.

  ‘Must be Dingy or Andeep,’ he said, checking under thee carpet. ‘To tell that they are boarding…’

  For thee first time in I don’t how many months – okay, okay two months – I felt little excited. Wedding was coming! So was Dingy! And extra room! I’d become Dingy’s roommate. I toh didn’t care who else slept where and with whom.

  Thee day passed in fast forward.

  Ludhiana Brigade ate, drank, swam, went to spa, slept. I ate, slept, and avoided being alone with Dumpy (oho, I didn’t want to answer any question on thee Raj topic). God only knew what Tarzan did. He was missing all day. Waiting to make entry at thee wrong time I was sure.

  But he made entry in thee evening, along with Dingy and Andeep. Then only I realised that he’d gone to Bangkok and returned after picking them up. I felt irritated means irritated. Thee resort had arranged airport pick up, it was part of thee wedding package. So why was he jumping so much? Trying to show he was thee better wedding-planner or what?

  Dingy yelled, ‘Mahi-ve!’ and ran up to hug me and I forgot all my irritation.

  ‘I’m getting married! To Andeep! In Bangkok!’ Dingy sang, ‘I still can’t believe.’

  Leave married, I toh still couldn’t believe she could fall in love with Andeep. But why to start old topic, I thought, patting my pillow. I was happy I’d made her mine – means, I’d made her my roommate and we were talking late at night, just like we used to in our bachelor days…I slapped my forehead as I remembered something.

  ‘Arre, before I forget, you’re sure you want to combine your bachelor party with Andeep?’

  She nodded. ‘I’d sent you, na, WhatsApp before leaving India?’

  ‘Ya, ya, but did you talk to Andeep? What if he wants–’

  ‘Andeep wants what I want, Mahi-ve,’ she cut me. ‘He doesn’t want same boring Bangkok-type of bachelor party – boys only, going to strip club, drinking till morning. We’ll all go to Bangkok tomorrow evening and party-sharty. Then we’ll come back and party-sharty with families. Okay?’

  Girl side, boy side, my side, everyone was reaching thee next day.

  ‘Hmm.’

  Tarzan had been planning big bachelor party in Bangkok. But now he’d be stuck with me. Means, with all of us. Good, I thought with satisfaction. Oho, not because I didn’t want him to have fun with Bangkok girls, because I didn’t want him to corrupt young Indian boy, Raj. Dumpy toh could corrupt God also. Andeep I was least bothered about.

  ‘Mahi, shall I tell you one secret?’ Dingy’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

  I gave her headmaster-type look.

  ‘What did you do now, Dingy? Did you do chumma-chaati with Rajinder before coming to Bangkok?’

  Rajinder, her BF before Andeep. He was Mr. One Way Traffic. Even after Dingy had stopped giving him green signal, he kept driving on her road.

  ‘Chee! I could never do kissy-ussy with anyone!’

  ‘Why,’ I asked in sly voice, ‘you’re not horn dog or what?’

  Thee hero of our first colourful experience – oho, first adult film we’d seen together – had kept calling himself ‘horndog’. He had thee sex-wala disease. Twenty-four hours he thought only of one thing – sex. Morning to night, he did it with girls, boys, himself. He toh didn’t leave his furniture also.

  We both burst into giggles.

  Hai, what golden days they were.

  ‘Mahi-ve, please don’t mind, but I was always little jealous of you.’

  ‘What?’ I cried, sitting up straight. I thought I knew everything about Dingy. But she’d kept such big secret from me.

  ‘Calm down, Mahi,’ she told my dialogue to me, pulling me back down.

  ‘But why Dingy why?’

  I wasn’t richum-rich or beauty queen or scholar type.

  ‘Because you’re you, Mahi. Always so confident, so bold, so brave…’

  I opened my mouth to say no-no, but then I thought why to lie?

  ‘…you’ve always been thee centre of attraction. With teachers, with boys, with clients. Everywhere we go, people ta
lk only about you, your good qualities…’

  That was also true. But I’d equal number of bad qualities.

  ‘…Please don’t misunderstand me, Mahi,’ she said, sitting up. ‘I love you –’

  ’I know…more than you love Andeep…you told me –’

  ‘…But I–I always came after you. Mahi first, Dingy second…’

  Life’s not a race, Dingy, I wanted to say. But I couldn’t open my mouth.

  ‘That’s why sometimes I used to feel jealous…’ Dingy finished, looking at me with worried eyes. ‘Say something, Mahi-ve.’

  I toh didn’t know what to say. Never in my life, I thought my best friend was jealous of me. I wanted to cry.

  ‘…I was hundred percent sure that you’d get married first…and when Lavith came into your life, I became doubly sure –’

  ‘Forget all that,’ I said quickly, before I became senti. ‘You don’t feel second now?’

  ‘No, no…’ she said, putting her hand on mine, ‘now I feel so special…I’m Dingy – thee bride…it sounds like name of cool film, na?…I’m so happy everyone’s talking about me, my marriage…’

  ‘I’m so happy, too.’ And I meant it from heart. If Dingy was happy marrying Andeep, I was happy. I ate swear that I’d try my best to like – okay, okay– I’d try my best to tolerate him. For her sake.

  I leaned forward and gave her tight-shight hug.

  ‘I’m so stupid,’ I slapped my forehead suddenly as I remembered something.

  ‘What happened, Mahi-ve?’ Dingy asked, taking her hands off.

  ‘I forgot my med…I forgot something in my old room,’ I said, climbing out of thee bed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Only you can have secrets or what?’ I said, jokily. ‘I’ll get it and come in five minutes. Don’t sleep, okay?’

  I still had one room card. I took it out of my handbag and went to thee old room, my heart feeling heavy and light at thee same time. Heavy, because for so many years, I didn’t know Dingy felt ‘j’ of me. Light, because, now she didn’t feel ‘j’ of me.

  I opened thee door, ready to say sorry to Dumpy and Raj for disturbing their sleep. Copying me, Tarzan had also moved out of thee suit and into Andeep’s room. But thee sitting area was empty. I went to thee bedroom door and knocked softly. There was no reply. Thinking Simran was fast asleep, I turned thee handle and walked in.

  And died.

  Simran was not asleep! She was not alone! She was in Tarzan’s arms!

  I toh couldn’t believe what I saw. They were standing chest to chest. Tarzan was like thee jeeps in Ludhiana. Topless. He was wearing only his small-sholl, tight-shight shorts. She was wearing night-gown: but it had slipped from her shoulders. She’d made kissy face and was looking up at him.

  My whole world turned upside down. I’d thought I didn’t care who slept where and with whom. Hai, I was wrong.

  I toh don’t know what I did. Whether I gasped loudly or gave gaali in Hindi and Punjabi and English. But I think so I made some noise, because they gasped loudly and gave gaali. In Hindi and Punjabi and English.

  I stood there for one second like dumb, frozen, statue, before doing instant about-turn and running out of thee bedroom.

  ‘Mahi! Wait!’ I heard Tarzan call out.

  But I wasn’t mad to. I went running to my new room and slammed thee door.

  ‘Mahi, what hap – ?’ Dingy asked, sitting up on thee bed as I locked thee door and stood behind it.

  ‘Mahi! I said open up!’ Tarzan barked, hitting thee door. ‘Mahi! Listen to me.’

  I signalled to Dingy to stay on thee bed, tears flowing down my cheeks.

  ‘I don’t want to hear anything.’

  Dingy looked very concerned but she listened to me.

  ‘Mahi, I can explain.’

  ‘I don’t want any explanation! GO DIE!’

  ‘MAHI!’

  Tarzan banged thee door many times, but I didn’t listen to him. I went back to thee bed only when I heard his footsteps going away.

  ‘Mahi, what happened –?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it and spoil everything… please, yaar…this time…this trip, this occasion…it’s about you and only you, Dingy.’

  And I’d make sure it would be, I ate swear, getting into bed.

  Dingy went to sleep in minutes, but I toh couldn’t. I felt so cheap, so stupid. I was duffer queen to love animal like Tarzan. He’d never loved me. If he had, could he have action scene with someone else only two months after our breakup? No, ji, not.

  And what about Simran? She didn’t have breakup with Dumpy. How could she do to this to him? Was she trying to take revenge on me? But what was my fault if her BF used to have one eye on me?

  Anyways, Simran was third party. If your own coin is fake, why to blame another person? Tarzan was thee bigger culprit.

  I don’t know how I got sleep, but next morning another shock was waiting for me. My medicine pouch – thee thing I’d gone to get from thee room – was on thee side table.

  I picked it up, forgetting to breathe.

  Dingy came out of thee loo, patting her face with towel. ‘Simran came to give it to you.’

  I got tensed. Had she looked inside? I looked into Dingy’s eyes, but her expression was innocent. Thanks to god.

  But what about Simran?

  14

  In which hearts etcetera are stripped open and feelings etcetera are laid bare

  ‘Mahi, how can you look so bored, yaar? I’m toh so excited, so excited, I can’t explain you.’ Dingy squeezed Andeep’s hand, looking up at thee stage.

  Tell that to your fiancé, I wanted to reply.

  We were sitting inside thee third night club of thee evening and watching thee performances. Andeep was looking like he was having root canal surgery at Chaddha Dental clinic. Arre, it was his fault. Who asked him to cancel his old plan and have combo bachelor party with Dingy?

  I never like to praise my competition, but Tarzan had planned everything like professional. Instead of bachelor night, he’d made it bachelor overnight. Booked suite with two bedrooms in Bangkok hotel and organised two taxis for two whole days. But highlight was thee lunch at cool-shool restaurant called Cabbages and Condoms. When bill came, so did free condoms for every customer! I toh wanted to suggest thee same idea for Bhooto’s next lunch kitty. My mood became slightly okay imagining thee expressions of all Aunties.

  ‘Enough, yaar, Dingy,’ I complained.

  Oho, not because I was bored of seeing girls and wanted to see boys in short-short chaddis dancing with their long poles. Because thee next day was thee Sangeet, and I wanted to make sure all arrangements were perfect.

  ‘Last dance,’ she promised. ‘Say cheese, yaar,’ she said clicking selfie.

  But I couldn’t smile or enjoy or act normal because I couldn’t stop thinking about last night. I looked at thee other two parties from last night. They were sitting in thee first row, opposite to us, looking normal. Simran was sticking to Dumpy like anything, Tarzan was drinking like anything. It was so easy for them, acting like nothing had happened.

  I looked at Dumpy. He was dressed in khaki shorts and black tee shirt, looking like Shikari Shambhu going for hunting. Thee poor thing was rotating his hand above his head, not knowing his GF was rotating between him and another man. For thee first – okay, okay for thee second time (first time was when I’d broken my engagement with him)– in my life I felt really sorry for him.

  My eyes went to Tarzan. He was dressed in blue jeans, white shirt and jacket, looking like HPM (oho, Hot Phoren Munda). Kutta! He didn’t even have thee decency to look like thee kameena he was.

  Unfortunately, he looked at me at thee same time. I turned to my right side, put my hand on Raj’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. Oho, not because I wanted to make Tarzan jealous, because Raj was two beers down. He’d reached his maximum quota. ‘Enough, time to go, Raj.’

  ‘No!’ He pushed my hand away and continued drinking. Tarzan gave me fake
smile and raised his whiskey glass in silent ‘cheers’. I gave him my ‘go die’ look.

  I pulled up my deep neck self-consciously. I was wearing Indo-Western outfit that I’d specially got stitched for Dingy’s wedding. Sleeveless black kameez with buttons till navel, long front slit and high side slits. My bottom – means, my outfit’s bottom was golden cigarette pants. Luckily, they had elastic band.

  I was still adjusting my outfit when one beautiful stripper with long glim-glim hairs, jing-jing dress, shim-shim make-up, came and sat down on Dumpy and started doing lap dancing. Simran jumped up from her seat, covered her mouth and started giggling. Dumpy toh looked like he’d won Punjab State Lottery.

  After giving him thee dance of his life, she turned to Tarzan. Bas, I reached my maximum limit. I toh couldn’t sit there anymore. I jumped to my feet and rushed straight to thee exit.

  My heart stopped beating, my stomach started churning like washing-machine. It was toh thee limit only. I’d seen Tarzan robbing fun – Part One with Simran. I couldn’t bear to see Part Two with stripper.

  I wasn’t going to wait for anyone anymore – oho, thee families would be waiting at thee resort – but everyone (except Tarzan) came out in one minute.

  ‘What happened, Mahi?’ everyone asked together. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I’m going back to thee hotel,’ I said, walking away. ‘You all can stay here till morning. Bye.’

  I sounded calm, but inside I was like sea in high tide. Tarzan had stayed back in thee club. He’d done lap dancing on my face, what only he’d do behind my backside?

  I knew it was not my business, I knew he wasn’t my BF, I knew I couldn’t tell him anything, but who would tell all that to my deaf heart.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Dingy said.

  It was Andeep’s turn to look like he’d won thee lottery.

  ‘Andeep, you’re coming?’

  He looked like it was time for another root canal surgery, but he said, ‘Yes, yes, jaanu. Would I let you go alone, in taxi, in strange city?’

  Three of us got into of thee rented taxis. I didn’t say one word on thee way back.

  I know that self-praise is donkey praise, but thee arrangements were superb means superb. I’d stood on Muesli’s head all afternoon and made sure they followed all my instructions.