Bathinda to Bangkok Read online

  ‘You’re disappointing me now itself…you’re much-much younger than me.’

  ‘So what? Age doesn’t matter. I don’t have much experience, but I’ll do my very best to satisfy you…’

  I sprang up like mattress. Perverted boy!

  ‘What’s wrong with you, Raj?’ I shouted. Small pieces of tandoori roti went flying from my mouth on to Raj’s face. He wiped them away with middle finger. ‘Did you take cocaine-shocaine in Andeep’s toilet?’

  ‘No! Never! I swear, I swear I don’t touch drugs!’ Raj replied, jumping up too.

  ‘You can take them without touching,’ I said. I wanted to give him back-hand slap. I somehow controlled and used back-hand to wipe oil from my mouth.

  ‘I don’t have any bad habits, Mahi. You can ask anyone for my bio data.’

  ‘I don’t want your bloody bio data,’ I snapped, looking around for something to wipe my hands.

  Raj pulled out white hanky from his pocket and offered.

  I hesitated. But then I thought, I was accepting hanky, not his hand. I took it and cleaned my fingers till white hanky became brown hanky.

  ‘Is it because of some bad experience? That’s why you don’t want to take second chance?’ Raj asked, twisting his hands.

  What could I say? No, no, it’s because I love someone else? So I jumped on thee excuse. ‘Ya, that’s why.’

  Dumpy, who was eating quietly till now, spoke up.

  ‘When did you have bad experience? You’ve never kept assistant before.’

  ‘You shut up, you don’t know anything–’ I barked, before applying sudden brakes on my mouth. ‘Assistant???’

  ‘Yes, assistant,’ Dumpy informed. ‘he’s applying for your assistant’s job.’

  Why, what you thought?’ Simran, who was eating more than thee truck drivers on thee next table, asked in sly voice.

  Hai, I toh turned water-water from embarrassment. Raj did want to join with me, but only in business. He did want to satisfy me, but like good professional. Simply I’d called him perverted.

  I covered my red cheeks with my dupatta and cleared my throat. ‘Yes, yes, I’d hired one assistant…many months back…very bad she was…liar, thief, cheater, druggie –’

  ‘What? Who? When?’ Dumpy pounced on me. ‘You never told me. Even Dingy didn’t open her mouth.’

  Loose mouth laudu! Couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

  ‘We don’t tell you all thee inside details of our business,’ I sniffed, handing Raj back his brown hanky.

  ‘But Dingy’s getting married,’ Dumpy insisted. ‘How will you manage? Won’t you need help?’

  ‘No,’ I said firmly.

  ‘Why?’

  Because it was my business, my wish, my life. What for him? If he was so bothered, why didn’t he give Raj a job?

  ‘Please, Mahi, give me job. I’ll give you my all.’

  Forget all, I didn’t even want him this much.

  ‘Thank you for offer, Raj, but I work alone…’

  ‘That’s true,’ Dumpy nodded, ‘She’s Hunterwali plus Revolver Rani…all in one…’

  Simran covered her mouth with one hand and started giggling.

  I gave Dumpy ‘You are finished, kutte’ look.

  ‘If you’ve finished thoosoing your face,’ I said, looking at Simran. ‘And you’ve finished giving bio-data,’ I added, looking at Raj. ‘Can we bloody leave?’

  5

  In which the heroine comes face to face with her past

  I was flying across seven seas for thee first time.

  I was so excited, so excited, don’t ask. Thought I’d chill, do masti, watch free movies, eat free food like pig on thee flight. But when kismet is gaandu, what will do paandu? Oho, when luck itself is bad, what you’ll do.

  First, I couldn’t watch one movie also.

  Other passengers put seat belt after they sat down, but Mahi? She puts on thee ear phones. So I put ear phones on ears and fingered thee screen. Once, twice, thrice. No reaction. Blank it stayed. I thought it was like my washing machine. It’d work only after getting one tight slap. I was about to give it one shot, when thee air-hostess came and said, ‘The flight entertainment system is down, Ma’am.’

  My mood went down from there.

  Second, leave seeing movie, I only saw next seat passenger getting drunkum-drunk.

  He even had thee guts to ask me, ‘Madam, you’re not drinking. Can you get one Red Label for me?’ When air-hostess came, I asked her. But not for drink. For change of seat. But thee flight was full, so I was stuck in Bewafa Bar with Devdas.

  Third, bloody flight was late. It was night by thee time I took boat from Bangkok Airport and reached Hawa-Hawai island. Oho, that was not thee name of the island. It was thee name I remembered.

  On top of that, I got stuck with kambakht taxi driver. He took me for full Island Darshan. Round and round we went around same area. Third time when we passed thee same restaurant, I became like Mentos ad. My brain’s light got switched on.

  I told him in Indian don voice that if he didn’t take me to thee correct place immediately, I’d give him solid. Bas, in five minutes flat, I was outside Rembrandt Resort.

  ‘Oh, Lem-la,’ he said, reading thee board outside. ‘Why you not tell?’

  Arre, how I could tell ‘Lemla’ when thee name was Rembrandt?

  I was tired means tired. I dragged myself and my strolley to thee reception.

  ‘Swadeekha!’ called out thee man at reception.

  He had round face, thin hairs, thick specs, and he was smiling like he was Vicco-Vajradanti model. He looked like hero of those kung-fu shung-fu, karate-sharate movies that Niku used to watch non-stop in olden days. What was his name…Chusli or Guthli or something.

  He came from behind thee counter and put seashell garland around my neck.

  Before I could say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Chusli’, two slim-trim girls popped up from behind thee counter like popcorns from microwave. They did some steps like they were waving mosquitoes away (I think so Thai people called it dancing).

  Before I could tell Deepika-Anushka, ‘Come to Punjab, I show you real thing’, another man popped up from behind the counter, holding welcome drink. I took XL coconut from XS tray and looked behind him. But there were no more people in thee welcoming committee.

  Chusli joined his hands and bent down. ‘Welcome to Hua Hin island. Welcome to Lembla Resort.’

  I joined my hands and bent down.

  They smiled at me. I smiled at them. They smiled more. Then I got worried they were expecting tip. I quickly made O with left hand to show lock. I put right finger inside it to make key-inside-lock action. And then I asked, ‘Where?’

  ‘Haw’ expression came on all their faces.

  I was confused. Then only I remembered Bangkok was Sex Capital of world. Hai, they thought I was asking where I could go for bang-bang! As if I was some sex criminal foreign tourist.

  ‘No, no, not like that!’ I said quickly, doing the key action alone. ‘Key, key.’

  Relief came on their faces. ‘Aah, key,’ Chusli went behind counter and handed me card.

  ‘Your loom may alive, Madame,’ Chusli smiled.

  Hain?

  ‘Loom may? Alive?’ I asked, confused.

  He nodded.

  I toh needed subtitles to understand him. Then it striked to me. ‘Oh, loom mate. You mean, my roommate has arrived.’

  ‘Yes, loom may alive,’ he confirmed.

  Andeep’s big sis, Gurdeep, was coming from Mumbai. We both were going to make thee arrangements. Gurdeep didn’t know P of party-planning. But what to do. Dingy was bride and busy. Ten thousand things she had to do back in Ludhiana. And laudu Andeep’s parents said they wanted someone to help me. My shoe, help me. They wanted someone to keep eye on me and thee budget. Huhn!

  ‘Wedding advisol will meet you tomolo.’

  ‘Wedding advisor will meet me tomorrow?

  Oho, I didn’t need any wedding advisor-shadvisor. But resort was giving him free �
� means, part of thee package. So I thought what goes for me, let him come.

  ‘Good stay,’ Chusli bent down and folded hands.

  ‘This way,’ the other man bent down and picked up handle of my strolley.

  I followed him out of thee Reception hut, taking deep breath. Thee resort was even more beautiful in offline.

  I’d seen online. Eleven rooms. All in different-different styles. Thai, English, Arabian and what not. Thanks to God, Andeep – means, his Delhi contacts had booked it. First time in his life he did something useful.

  We passed landscape garden, swimming pool, gym, library, children’s play area, riverside verandah restaurant, and then we reached thee room.

  I took card with thanks, put it in slot, turned door handle softly and tippy-toed inside. Room was dark. Only Gurdeep’s bedside lamp was on. She was fast asleep on one side of bed. Blanket was covering her fully like she was dead body in morgue.

  I didn’t want to disturb. Softly and silently, I grabbed thee bath gown lying on my side of thee bed, got out of my salwar-kameez and collapsed. I was so tired, so tired, I slept like this.

  God only knows how long I slept. I was forced to wake up when sun rays fell on my face. I didn’t feel like opening my eyes. My chest felt heavy. As if someone had placed heavy stone on it. Bets, it was that fish on thee flight.

  But suddenly, stone on my chest moved! My eyes flew open and I looked down.

  There was hand on my chest! Hand was big! Hand was brown! Hand was hairy!

  There was man in thee room. In thee bed.

  ‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!’ I yelled at thee top of my lungs, throwing hand off my chest like it was poisonous snake, and jumping off thee bed. I looked around like mad bull, and grabbed thee first thing I saw. Thee big lamp on thee side table. I gave one big pull and it came in my hand with shade, wire and plug. I threw it full force on thee blanket on thee man on thee bed.

  ‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!’ Thee man screamed as if thee lamp had hit him on his ding dong really badly. Thee blanket went up flying, man attached to thee hand came out and…

  And I died.

  It was not man! It was – HAYO RABBA – Lavith! My past love Lavith. My ex-BF Lavith. Topless Lavith. Big brown chest. Big brown shoulders. Big brown biceps. Same black eyes. Same black beard. Same black chaddi.

  His chaddi still had magnet powers. ZOINKKKKKK! My eyes went and got stuck to them. I hoped I hadn’t injured his private part – means, the lamp hadn’t injured his private part. It was his fault that he was inside thee room. But what had his poor ding-dong done to me? Means, it had done many things in thee past, but what was its fault now? Why should it get injured for no reason?

  Suddenly, old English movie I’d seen came inside my head. In which heroine said that whenever you see your ex-lover after long time, first thing that comes to your mind is thee last time you had humpy-pumpy. Our last session came in front of my eyes. Rainy night, big fight…

  ‘Mahendar!’ he exclaimed, breaking my daydream.

  Thee last session went phurrr out of my mind. Leaving smoke coming out of my ears.

  Just like I called him names – Luv, Luvee and Tarzan (because he looked like grown up Mowgli), he called me names (Baby, Ma-hee and Mahendar Singh Dhoni (because like MSD, I was always in form, hitting fours and sixes).

  ‘Some things never change,’ he cluck-clucked.

  I was so shockum-shocked, not one word came out of my mouth.

  He was meeting me after almost two months. But instead of looking angry, upsetted, hurted, he was looking least bothered. And that made me angry, upsetted, hurted.

  ‘Where’s Gurdeep?’ I barked, looking around thee room like one mad.

  He looked inside his blanket. ‘Not here.’

  ‘I know she’s not there,’ I growled. ‘She’s married.’

  ‘I don’t have a problem with that,’ he replied with wolfy smile.

  ‘Hello, not every girl wants to do chak dhoom dhoom with you –’

  ‘Well, that girl did,’ he pointed behind me.

  I turned around like one donkey and saw myself in thee mirror on thee wall looking like Santa (not Banta’s friend, Claus). White bath gown, red face.

  Before I could say something, he pulled thee blanket off and got out of thee bed. Hai, my tongue also got out. Seeing him in those black-shack, mini-shini, satin-watin chaddis again…

  Control, Mahi, control, I told myself desperately. But there was no use. I stared at him like he was heroine in wet-white-saree-under-waterfall and I was Shakti Kapoor. Like he was deep-fried pakora and I was size-zero model. Like he was full-marks and I was three-time-fail student.

  ‘Wow!’ Tarzan whistled. ‘Never thought I’d live to see the day. Mahendar the Great at a loss for words.’

  ‘What are you doing in my room?’ I asked, hissing like cobra snake.

  ‘Your room? If I remember correctly, there was no one in the room when I checked in.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, how in fuck’s name is it your room?’

  ‘Listen, you,’ I said, pointing finger at him. ‘I can also use bad words –’

  He held up his left hand. ‘Sure you can. I mean, you’re a pro at it. What’s the latest on that front, by the way?’

  I gave him blank look.

  ‘What’s the latest – he broke off to make quotation marks – “bad” word you’re tripping on?’

  I hadn’t played with uncooked marbles in life. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to provoke me.

  ‘Me and bad word?’ I said innocently.

  He went on like he’d not heard me. ‘The last creative cuss word I’d learnt was what…’ he clicked his fingers, hunting for thee word in his mind, ‘chutiyam sulphide?’

  ‘Sulphate,’ I corrected him automatically.

  ‘Gotcha!’ he said like he’d won major victory in life.

  Saala!

  Like smart hunter, he’d set trap and I’d walked into it.

  ‘Anyways,’ I said, marching to other corner of thee room, where his suitcase was. I gave it one solid kick. ‘This is my room. So, please, pack up and get thee hell out.’

  He folded his arms over his chest, looking like Rana Dagubatti in Bahubali. ‘Like hell I will. You’ve got a problem, you leave.’

  ‘I can’t,’ I said proudly. ‘I’m thee official wedding planner.’

  ‘So am I.’

  I grunted like pig. ‘Funny joke! I didn’t know you could plan weddings.’

  ‘There are lots of things you don’t know about me.’

  ‘I know that you’re investment banker working in –’

  ‘I quit,’ he told me.

  Haw expression came to my face.

  ‘Told ya,’ he said as if he’d won major victory, ‘there are lotsa things you don’t know about me.’

  And I don’t want to, I wanted to bark. But I didn’t want to make him bigger enemy. I knew why he was here. Purposely. To provoke me. To take badla on me. I’d ditched him and he was thirsty for revenge like bhatakti aatma (oho, restless ghost).

  Hai, I toh panicked. He’d found only Dingy’s wedding to take revenge on me?

  I took deep breath and used my compromise voice. ‘I know you’re holding big grudge against me. But what has poor Dingy done? Why are you doing this to her?’

  ‘Grudge, what grudge?’ he asked. ‘And what am I doing?’

  He walked up to thee coffee-maker, not bothering to pull up his chaddi which was hanging down like mango from low branch. I was getting high looking at it. I had to, had to tear my eyes away and concentrate on what he was saying.

  ‘…Gurdeep couldn’t make it…her mom-in-law’s down with dengue or was that malaria… anyway, whatever…Uncleji wanted someone to represent the boy’s side. Andeep asked me, I agreed. It’s as simple as that…’

  Simple? Thee situation was more complicated than that movie Aamir Khan’s wife made – what was its name… Dhobi Shobi something.

  Tarzan switched on thee coffee-m
aker. Saliva almost leaked from my mouth. Anyone who knew Mahi Ahluwalia one percent also, na, knew that I hated making things. And he knew me more than one percent. Still, he made only one cup and walked off to other side of thee room.

  Kutta!

  ‘Please…’

  His ears went up like dog’s. ‘Wow! Are you feeling quite all right –?’

  There’s nothing wrong with my health, I wanted to shout.

  ‘Did you actually use the “P” word? Are you pleading with me, Mahendar?’

  ‘You want me to stop?’ I gave warning.

  ‘Not at all, please continue,’ he said, dropping down phattt on thee sofa. ‘I’ve a feeling I’m going to enjoy this very much.’

  I peesoed my teeth and continued. ‘Look, Lavith –’

  ‘That sounded odd,’ he cut in.

  I was confused. ‘What?’

  ‘The way you pronounced my name. If I remember correctly, you used to place more emphasis on “Lav”…’

  I became redder than red chilli powder.

  ‘…Or maybe I’m wrong,’ he went on talking. ‘Maybe this is exactly how you pronounced it…maybe I’m just imagining things…after all, it’s been, what, one-and-half months?’

  One month, three weeks, two days, I corrected inside my head.

  ‘Forget about all that,’ I said outside, before he could say one more word. ‘That’s history.’

  ‘You know what they say about history…’ he began.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It repeats itself,’ he finished with paaji (not elder, wicked) smile.

  My heart was like Tiger (not animal, Shroff). It was dancing like anything inside, but outside, I was like Arjun Rampal. Expressionless.

  ‘In this case, it won’t repeat,’ I said in firm voice, making my shoulders straight.

  He got up and started walking towards me. He came and stood so close to me, I could smell his P (not susu, perfume).

  ‘Sure about that?’ He asked, tightly locking his eyes on me.

  Bas, my heart started dancing like Tiger Shroff’s big daddy (not Jackie Shroff, Prabhudeva). My mouth started feeling like dry-shy. My hand started feeling wet-shet. My skin started feeling tingly-mingly.

  He bent his head. Slowly but surely, his mouth started coming near mine. One more second, and I was going to jump on him like Bhooto jumps on non-veg after keeping fast.