Bathinda to Bangkok Page 9

  ‘I did see one,’ Tarzan said, bringing his eyes straight on me.

  My heart started doing zumba steps. My blood started running like race horse.

  ‘You know the one,’ Tarzan said, his voice dropping.

  Gooses came on my arms and legs and where not. My mouth became dry like sand.

  ‘I toh organise so many parties,’ I said in casual voice. ‘Which-which will I remember?’

  I was matching Raj in acting. Because I could never forget thee party Tarzan was talking about. My mind flew back to Delhi and that night. And I was lost in flashback again.

  ‘This is thee last time I’m organizing spinster party for oldies,’ I ate swear as another drunk Aunty grabbed Naren thee stripper’s bum and shook it left and right.

  I was not moral science teacher, but thee way some Aunties were behaving! Heights of being perverted. Hello, stripper was also someone’s son.

  I was resting drunkum-drunk Bride Aunty on thee sofa, when he cried, ‘Help, yaar!’

  I rushed to save poor Naren, badly tripping on Bride Aunty’s pink feather. First I caught myself, then I caught Duryodhan Aunty. Around thee waist, feeling like bouncer at rowdy bar. ‘Party’s over, Aunty. Time to go home.’

  I’d switched on thee lights one hour ago. But these people were not getting thee message. Drinking, dancing, misbehaving like anything.

  ‘Letsch go,’ Duryodhan Aunty protested, thrashing like octopus as I tried to control her. ‘I was justsch trying to…justch trying to…’

  I knew what she was justsch trying to do. Grabbing thee waistband of Naren’s langot (oho, thee G string chaddi). Thee elastic stretched badly as I pulled Aunty back and her fingers had no choice but to leave it. The elastic went flying back to hit Naren loudly and painfully like whip.

  ‘Owwww!’ he cried.

  ‘Owwww!’ I cried as Duryodhan aunty sank her sharp nails in my arms.

  ‘Letsch me go!’ she yelled.

  ‘Okay!’ I yelled, removing my arms.

  DHAMMMMM!

  She fell down on thee floor like potato sack.

  ‘Hey, you,’ I clicked my fingers at another drunk Aunty who was kissing metal pole, thinking it was Naren, who else. ‘Yes you, Emraan Hashmi, take your friend and go.’

  I clapped my hands loudly.

  She gave last chumma to thee pole and came stumbling-shumbling. She bent down and lifted her friend up with one hand. She balanced Duryodhan Aunty against thee wall, before reaching for her purse.

  DHAMMMMMM!

  Duryodhan Aunty tasted thee floor back again.

  Other Aunty turned attention to bag and struggled with her opening – means, bag opening. She opened it, pulled out roll of folded notes and stuffed it inside thee stripper’s G-string chaddi.

  Uff!

  I threw open thee door of thee flat and threw both Aunties out.

  Then I ran to Naren. He was rubbing his bum, which was paining from all thee grabbing and pinching. I put my hand inside his G-string chaddi. My fingers had just grabbed thee roll of folded notes.

  I realised that the idiot drunkard Aunties had left thee door open only when someone gasped loudly.

  I turned around to see my Tarzan standing there. I was so shockum-shocked, my hand didn’t come out of thee chaddi. Only guilty came on my face.

  ‘Don’t let me interrupt you,’ he said in freezer cold voice, before doing about-turn.

  ‘Lav, wait!’

  He hesitated, his feet slowing hand.

  ‘We’ve to drop thee strippe – we’ve to drop Naren home.’

  Tarzan walked out of thee door, shutting it loudly behind him.

  Syapa!

  I knew, I knew it was bad idea to let him pick me after thee party. I should have taken Uber Ola back home. Oho, I wanted to. But he’d forced. Said it wasn’t safe. That anyway he was working late. And Bride Aunty’s flat was on thee way. So I was like okay okay, pick up.

  On thee way back, there was cremation-ground- type silence. Tarzan was too angry to speak. Naren was too tired to speak. I was angry and tired and surprised. Angry because Tarzan was misunderstanding me. Tired because we were having too many fights. Over small small things only, but still. And surprised because, I never knew Tarzan was possessive. As if I could look at another hot man. I toh was very happy with my Hot Star (not app, BF).

  After we dropped Naren home, I turned to my Angry Old Man. Told him PMS PMS PMS thousand and one times all thee way back. But he kept driving like silent film hero.

  By thee time we reached home, my mercury was also high. He wanted me to fall on his feet or what? If he didn’t want to talk to me, he could go die.

  11

  The one CBFC would have banned for more reasons than one

  I marched to thee cupboard and purposely took out my night slip – thee short, satin, wine colour one with thin straps which he loved. Hai, thee look on his face when I came out of thee bathroom wearing it! My cheeks turned wine colour.

  He’d already changed and gone inside blanket. But I could feel his eyes on me. I coolly walked to thee mirror opposite thee bed, brushed my hairs, rubbed night cream, hand cream, ignoring him. Then I went to my side of thee bed, climbed in, pulled thee blanket over my head and switched off thee side table lamp.

  His side table got switched on.

  I smiled inside thee blanket. I knew, I knew thee night slip would open his mouth.

  ‘You want to talk?’ He asked in swollen voice.

  ‘About what?’ I asked innocently from inside thee blanket.

  ‘You know what.’ He sat up and snatched thee blanket off.

  ‘No, I don’t know what,’ I said, sitting up to face him.

  ‘What if it was YOU who’d caught ME?’

  ‘With your hand inside Naren’s chaddi?’ I imagined him doing that and it made me giggle.

  ‘You think it’s funny?’ he growled.

  ‘You, you’re funny.’

  He gave me dirty look.

  ‘I told you sorry thousand and one times,’ I reminded him. ‘And what did you do? You showed me attitude. Let me tell you, I wasn’t maaroing chance on Naren, okay? I was doing my job.’

  ‘Your job is to fondle strippers?’

  I gave him ‘what’s-wrong-with-you’ look. ‘Your mom asked me to plan spinster party for her friend, I did. Her friend asked me to organize stripper, I did. She asked me to be around, make sure thee party was rocking, I did. But all thee Aunties – they fond…fon…’

  ‘Fondled,’ Tarzan supplied.

  ‘Fondled him too much,’ I went on, ‘so I had to—had to—jump in.’

  ‘Yeah, why should guests have all the fun,’ Tarzan said under his breath.

  I made my eyes narrow. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Anyways, do I mind what you do at your job, Lavith?’

  ‘My job doesn’t involve frisking people’s underwear. And neither does yours, Mahi.’

  ‘Uff! I told you sorry, na? What more do you want? Stop acting so “j”. So what if Naren’s hot? For me, he’s only party prop.’

  Thee corners of Tarzan’s mouth went up.

  ‘Party prop,’ he went snort-snort.

  I tucked my hairs behind my ears. ‘I toh have said everything I wanted to say. Now you do what you want.’

  Tarzan leaned forward, put his index fingers under thee thin straps of my night slip.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked.

  ‘You said “do what you want”,’ he whispered, sliding them off my arms and bending down to kiss my shoulder.

  I was still shivering from thee memory of that kiss and also everything that happened after that. If it’d happened in one of our Bollywood films, our Censor Board would have surely banned it.

  Sadly, Tarzan clicked his fingers. My flashback was cut. I came back to thee present, to Hawa Hawai island, to thee breakfast table.

  ‘Mahi, you there?’ he asked.

  ‘Y-Yes, yes,’ I said, picking up thee butter knife an
d putting butter on my toast.

  ‘What were you thinking about?’

  I turned red like thee apple on thee table.

  ‘Nothing, I wasn’t thinking anything,’ buttering my toast with more speed.

  ‘Didn’t she just butter her toast?’ Tarzan asked Raj.

  ‘She just buttered her toast,’ Raj confirmed.

  I threw down thee butter knife. Hai, I toh was losing my mental balance.

  ‘Coming to Bangkok?’ Tarzan asked. But not me, only Raj.

  I was suspicious. Why was Tarzan acting kindly and offering day trip to my BF? Was his plan was to get thee truth out of Raj?

  ‘Sorry, bro –’ Raj began.

  I showed him eyes. Bro? They spent one night together and became bros? What a party-changer he was!

  ‘Sorry, Lavith,’ Raj revised. ‘But I’m here to help Mahi with wedding preparations. I’m her ass –’

  I kicked Raj under thee table.

  ‘He’s acting like ass, but he’s my new partner,’ I announced. ‘Dingy’s going away after marriage, so...’

  Luckily, Raj didn’t jump up, shouting ‘Really, Mahi, really’. But he looked so grateful, I was worried he’d fall on my feets and start kissing them.

  ‘Whatever,’ Tarzan said, lifting his shoulder. ‘Need anything from Bangkok?’

  Raj opened his mouth, but I kicked him under thee table again.

  ‘No thanks, we don’t want any favour.’

  ‘I’m done being polite here,’ Tarzan said, walking away angrily. ‘Go to hell.’

  ‘First you, then I.’

  Raj looked at me first, then Tarzan, question marks on his face.

  I told myself it was good only that Tarzan went to Bangkok. I told Muesli all my ideas. I told Raj to take notes. After Muesli promised to get contacts of all thee suppliers, he made suggestion. Day tour of Hawa Hawai island. On my first day, thee cheater-cock taxi-driver had given me unofficial darshan of thee island. Hand ke hand, I was going to say no. But I looked at my employee and changed my mind. He looked so excited, I didn’t have thee heart to break his heart. He was working for me free, so like good boss, I negotiated free – means, part of wedding package – island discovery trip.

  We took selfies enthusiastically at thee famous temples, we clapped encouragingly at thee Artist Village, we roamed about joblessly in thee vineyard, we watched sunset sighingly at hill with complicated name (Khao Shao something-something).

  Actually, more than discovery of island, it was discovery of Raj. He wasn’t hundred percent laudu, okay, okay maybe ten to twelve percent laudu. I was still little irritated because he’d pressurised me into giving him job. But he didn’t ask me any questions about my personal life, he didn’t question me when I gave him professional to-do list, he didn’t even back-answer when I said no wine-tasting at thee vineyard.

  We were going to check out thee last item on the iti…itin..oho, tour – Cicada Market – after quick stop at our resort.

  ‘Someone waiting for you,’ Chusli told us at the reception.

  My face fell down. Tarzan was back. So was reality. For few hours, I’d felt like normal tourist, not heartbroken girl. Thee day had made me forget thee past. But evening had sent cruel reminder.

  I followed Raj to thee room, my legs heavy.

  Before we could ring thee bell, thee door opened.

  And I died.

  My friend hadn’t arrived. Simran had!

  ‘You!’

  ‘You!’

  We said at thee same time.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  Again we said same thing, same time.

  I turned to Raj, my eyes raining fire.

  ‘I didn’t know she was coming, I swear!’ he cried in panic.

  ‘Don’t tell lies,’ I looked at him like he was garbage truck.

  ‘He’s not lying,’ Simran said.

  ‘Who else knows you’re here?’ I demanded.

  ‘No one. Our parents have gone to Canada,’ she said, ‘And I haven’t spoken to Dumpy. I only spoke to our travel agent –’

  ‘And he gave you family discount, so you jumped on thee plane and came here?’ I said in acid voice.

  In reply she burst out crying.

  I stared at her, thinking what new syapa now. Then only I noticed that her under eyes area was dark and nose was red.

  ‘Simran! Oye, what happened, Simran?’ he asked, shaking her shoulder. ‘Say something.’

  One guest passing by stopped and gave concerned look to Simran. As if we were both attacking her.

  ‘Let’s take thee family drama inside,’ I muttered, pushing thee twins into the room.

  I made Simran sit on thee settee, made Raj serve her water (from complimentary bottle), made sure she knew why we came to Bangkok (not to take drugs, to plan Dingy’s wedding), and then made her talk. I crawled to thee round pillow and rested my back. It was paining like anything.

  ‘I came because I was stressed and sad,’ she started, wiping her nose. ‘Stressed because Raj had been acting very strange and I thought he was taking drugs –’

  ‘What?’ Raj cried, looking as if she’d driven truck over his leg.

  Simran went on ‘…And sad because I don’t know if Dumpy loves me.’

  She came all thee way to Bangkok for that? I could have given her thee answer on thee phone. Oho, after I’d rejected Dumpy, he’d rebounded with her. How could anyone fall in love so soon…?

  You fell in love in two weeks, my inside voice said. My heart twisted in all thee directions like rubberband. I felt sympathy wave rise up for Simran.

  ‘You’re older and wiser, Mahi,’ she sob-sobbed, making my sympathy wave go back. ‘You tell. Do you think he loves me?’

  Hai, I toh didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell her thee truth. What if she was suicide-type like her brother? I’d go to jail for two two criminal cases. But I didn’t want to lie to her also.

  I’d seen Hollywood movie long back in which depress case goes to doctor for help. Asks him may questions. In thee name of helping, doctor asks him thee same questions. Patient answers them patiently. And both go home happy. Patient, because doctor solved his mental problem. Doctor, because patient solved his financial problem.

  So like thee doctor, I asked her thee same question. ‘You feel he doesn’t love you?’

  She nodded. ‘He doesn’t. Or why will he keep his own sister’s wedding secret?’

  ‘Because it’s top secret!’

  ‘If it’s a secret, then why does Raj know?’ she argued. ‘And how can you have secrets from your GF?’

  ‘You think BF-GFs should not have secrets?’ I tried the same bull-and-cock tactic again.

  ‘No, never!’ Simran cried, crushing thee plastic bottle in her hand. ‘Because that means they are not serious about each other. Dumpy’s not serious about me. He doesn’t tell me anything. He doesn’t want me to attend his only sister’s wedding. He doesn’t want to introduce me to his family…’

  Uff!

  Simran should have been lawyer, because she raised one point after another.

  ‘You tell me, Mahi, is that love?’

  ‘It toh depends on your definition of love,’ I gave safe, diplomatic, nonsense answer.

  ‘What’s your definition?’ she asked, wiping her cheek.

  ‘This I’ve got to hear,’ came familiar voice from behind. ‘Do tell.’

  Uff!

  Tarzan’s timing also na.

  I turned around slowly, but treated him like afternoon sun. Didn’t look straight up at him.

  ‘Simran, meet Lavith,’ I started giving intros, hoping thee direction of conversation would change. ‘Lavith, this is Simran, Raj’s sister.’

  Simran wiped her nose, thinking loudly. ‘Lavith? Where did I hear this name recently…not common…but sounds familiar…wait, you’re THAT Lavith? Mahi’s Delhi boyfriend?’

  Sauteli maa ki @#$%! That chodu Dumpy! Keeping ten thousand things s
ecret from her, but opening his bloody mouth for this! And duffer Simran, opening her mouth in front of Tarzan.

  Understanding came on Raj’s face like tubelight, little late, little slowly but fully. ‘He’s Mahi’s Delhi boyfriend?’ He dropped down on thee settee like heavy potato sack.

  Uff!

  Dumpy had given my history to Raj also. I was going to give him solid when he landed in Bangkok.

  ‘Famous am I?’ Tarzan said walking up to us.

  ‘World famous in Ludhiana,’ I replied in acid voice.

  ‘But what’s he doing here?’ Simran raised another good point.

  ‘Do you want to do the honours, Ma-hee, or shall I?’ Tarzan asked, offering his hanky to Simran. She took it, looking as if he’d given her Kohinoor diamond.

  ‘It’s long story, longer than Ashutosh Gowariker films. In short-cut version, Lavith helped in saving Andeep-Dingy’s relationship. Andeep helped in saving Lavith’s life. Lavith helped in booking this resort.’

  Then I looked at Tarzan. ‘Bas, happy? Now please go. We’re discussing private matter.’

  Instead of listening to me, Tarzan came and made himself comfortable on thee settee as if it was public park.

  ‘It’s okay, it’s only Lavith,’ Simran said as if he they were chaddi buddy for donkey years. ‘Let him be here. I don’t mind.’

  Tarzan gave me ‘loser’ look, before bringing back thee same topic. ‘So, Mahi, you were going enlighten us all on the ‘L’ word.’

  All eyes turned on me.

  ‘First you, then I,’ I snapped.

  ‘I’m old school, you see. I always let the lady come first.’

  He said it innocently, but the look in his eyes! Saala! As if I didn’t understand his double meaning talks!

  Simran raised her hand as if it was Britannia quiz contest.

  ‘By all means,’ Quizmaster Tarzan gave her permission.

  ‘I think love means sharing and trusting. And not keeping secrets.’

  ‘I think love is friendship –’ Raj gave his expert opinion.

  ‘Got that from a movie, buddy?’ Tarzan teased.

  ‘No! I swear!’ Raj pinched his throat. ‘What do you think, Mahi?’

  All eyes turned to me, making me self-conscious.

  ‘I don’t want to play these stupid-type games,’ I said, pushing my hairs back.