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Hello People, apologies for being late, but this update took quite long. First, I don't even know what I had on my mind while writing this, this is utter crap, trust me, I have never written so much crap in the same post ever in my life!
Also before you begin, I'll make an honest and candid confession, I really don't watch RR, my knowledge of the show is limited to a few scattered random scenes, so yeah, writing Parud became doubly challenging, with Arshi there was no sweat as I have watched the entire series twice over!
But Thanks to shree10 and her never dying support, if this update turns even a wee bit bearable, credit goes to her!
So yeah, there on and also, somebody asked me over PM, so I'll tell this here, Andhera Kayam Rahe was Kilvish - the main villain's dialogue from Shaktiman. 😆
Also I have added a character Chotu Ram as Rudra's attendant. You know how army men get these attendants to maintain their uniforms.
Also I have written a few dialogues in the local dialect of Western Rajasthan just to fake authenticity and flaunt my linguistic skills.
Part 2
Warning: Mature content 181+
Parud
Bringing Severe Disorder, Headquarters, Chandangarh.
"Bhoot pishaach nikat nahi aave Mahabir jab naam sunave" (When you chant the name of Mahabir, ghosts and beasts won't harm you). Colonel BK Singh mentally recited the incantation of Hanuman Chalisa as he heard the foot steps of the Beast shuffling outside his door. He could not exactly recall when had he begun to fear this man to this degree. Man? His brain had already begun to conjure more fitting words for this savage fiend. The man was a walking, talking, breathing Third degree.
Major Rudra Pratap Ranawat entered his boss's bunker (yeah bunkers were all that were left to BSD) with that twit minion of his called Aman in tow. The incantation waves assumed a larger amplitude in the poor Colonel's head. "Bhoot pishach..."
"Why did you call me?" the sullen voice of his junior had a childish defiance today.
The Colonel looked up to face the Yamraj incarnate's loatheful stare, the look could not be interpreted as anything apart from sexual frustration, a loud groaning sexual frustration. Colonel sighed, had he interrupted something by calling him early in the morning? The major took a step towards him, the Colonel trembled in fear, he gazed expectantly at Aman, who was not even looking at him. Still in the third button stage in front of Rudra, that all obsequous and servile Aman nodded his head in agreement to Rudra's coarse breathing. BK Singh wanted to yell and pull at his hair, somebody tell that twit that he, the Colonel is the boss here!
Aman, that finally reminded him of the objective of this early morning rendezvous with the hell hole. He was reminded of another Aman, a Mr. Aman Mathur from Delhi who had called him the previous evening.
"Why have you called me?" Rudra growled again, his hand reaching for the rifle in his pocket. BK Singh's breath hitched. Albeit Major was the greatest asset of his dying organization, one who could shoulder the entire responsibility of ... well whatever were the responsibilities of BSD, but his trigger happiness creeped him out. Like Singh would often wonder if he applied for voluntary retirement from the services, he could easily pass on the reins to Ranawat who would definitely fare better than him, hell Ranawat with his fiery self could scare the Government into providing them the funds their organization was in a dire need of. But again, give control to the devil and he might just finish of the entire district of Chandangarh and nearby villages like Birpur, na rahega baans na bajegi baansuri. In fact if Ranawat was given the liberty, he would first gun down his own family, the Colonel could vouch for that. Rudra Pratap Ranawat was one man whose gun was more talkative than his mouth. Much more.
"Why?" the major yelled, thumping his fist on the table, the butt of the rifle now poking out from his pocket.
"Because we need to provide protection to..." the Colonel knew he had to say the words very carefully, "someone."
"Someone?" Rudra asked skeptically, "From when did BSD start providing individual security?" he demanded, his mind already guessing that it could be a witness or informer or maybe an alibi.
"The case is special Ranawat, we are a bordering district and if a celebrity flies down to our land, you know the kind of stir these people cause, we have to provide them special security."
The word celebrity acidified his years. "What mother f**ker is coming to Chandangarh?" he grumbled.
Colonel took a breath and looked at Aman, who was still nodding in agreement to every twitching vein in the major's body. He sighed, "He's one of Delhi's wealthiest businessmen. Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada."
"If he's so wealthy why doesn't he arrange for his private security? Is providing security to puny rich twats is all that is left of BSD?"
Singh wanted to yell out loud, Yes, that was all that was left of BSD. With the Indian Army ostracizing this little department, and the State government bringing it under its nose, a nose that had caught a financial cold and was sneezing out virus laden smelly mucus in the name of funds, this was de facto the first favorable state of affairs. Mr. Aman Mathur had called to simply inform about his boss's impending visit and inquiring about the general state of security of the place. BK Singh had offered their services and after a lot of convincing his boss had agreed and even promised a handsome amount of money in return. Singh knew, this man Raizada was quite influential in Delhi, he could get some of his works done if he managed to get in his good books.
"Look Ranawat, ASR has contacts at the center, if we play nice with him, it might be beneficial for BSD." the card was carefully played, Colonel waited for the Major's reaction.
For once the Major appeared pliant to reason. He smiled as Rudra slowly nodded his agreement. The minion too nodded in tow. Singh smiled and retrieved the colored photograph from his desk drawer. He handed it to Rudra, "This is Arnav Singh Raizada, they have already arranged for his stay at the Ratangarh Palace, he'd be coming here for some four days, perhaps on holiday with his wife." He could almost see smoke coming out of Rudra's nostrils at the mention of holiday-with-wife. The next statement he contemplated whether to say or not, "Well you'll have to handle the package with care Ranawat, Mr. Mathur's parting words were that his boss is rather cranky and the wife loony."
****
The room where he stood had modicum furniture, a large mirror and a sink. He stared at the face in the picture, under chiseled eye brows of beauty parlor perfection, were a pair of igneous molten caramels that screamed snobbery and arrogance. Rudra was surprised, this man wasn't anything like his initial guess of a rotund 45 year old capitalist with a paunch, on the contrary he seemed to be about his own age and quite handsome. Yeah handsome of the kind bird brained city girls drooled and crushed over and imbecile village girls giggled like maniacs whenever he appeared on television, he mused. He loathed this variety even more than the pot bellied industrialists.
This ASR was surely the kind of men who got their chests waxed on a fortnightly basis, they got their hands manicured and feet pedicured as frequently as their wives, wore expensive artificial musks to turn on women and got their backs rubbed by them in spas, he thought with distaste. Worse, they were such a liability, incapable of protecting themselves! This man must have never known what hardship means, hell why was he even venturing into the state of sand dunes, he must be the kind allergic to sand and everything rustic! He must have been born in an air conditioned five star nursing home, must have never perspired under sun, damn he must even poop and pee in an air conditioned toilet!
And now he wanted BSD to provide him protection, really? He could not fathom why such vain leeches be considered so important for the nation by these governments, truly when a man of Raizada's stature got abducted by terrorists, the government easily bartered the terrorists arduously captured by the likes of his organization for one useless life!
Rudra's countenance assumed the most agonizing expression possible for human kind, he than let out a gutteral growl of disappointment. He already hated this man, Arnav Singh Raizada, BSD was definitely not providing him any security on his honeymoon! Better still, he might just shoot this ASR dead. He thought.
In the picture he was elegantly dressed in a charcoal grey three piece suit, Rudra sniggered and tossed away the photograph staring at his own reflection in the mirror. He grinned sardonically, a man's real assets were what lied beneath the layers of fabric. Training his gaze at the mirror, he leisurely opened the buttons of his uniform and chucked away the shirt to ground. He roved his fingers over his hairy chest and patted his taut nipples lost in admiration. This specimen could certainly not be a creation of that impotent Dilsher, he decided adding much to the heap of grief. But then... "Paro would never think of any other man." he said to himself in rousing satisfaction, and twirled the corner of his mustache, finally something made him happy.
He then abruptly turned and walked towards the door, making sure no body was in proximity, he secured the latch and returned to the mirror. No body was supposed to know about his secret vault, as he dexterously pulled on the mirror's wooden frame and there it opened to a large column of shelves, each replete with various hair products from Sunsilk! He rubbed his hands in glee, turned his attention back to his reflection and twirled his moustache with great care, he did this action often, now that he was nearing mid thirties, he knew well that males inherited their hair mostly from their maternal grandfathers. As far as Rudra could remember, Nanasa had hair like cotton balls. He grimaced at the thought and then squirmed at the sight, there almost hidden between the lush blackness, a nasty grey in his virile moustache peeked.
Ruefully he reached out for the second shelf in his vault, and found what he was looking for. A sharpened eyebrow pencil he had once sneaked out from Laila's abode. With great skill and precision he covered the grey nuisance in black. He similarly colored the random couple of grey in the lavish tufts over his head.
Finally that useless Laila came to some use! He sighed, maybe she wasn't all that useless, she at least never dared to dish out the series of KLPDs Paro was dishing out to him for the past week. But then he wouldn't deny, Paro was infinitely better than that Laila who was only interested in getting straight into his pants, that woman did not understand the art of foreplay at all!
This epiphany had struck him that fateful day...
He remembered the distict smell of rat poison and dead repltiles that constantly hung in the air of Laila's abode, amid this today he heard a deep male baritone crooning something akin to Rabba Ve, he scowled recognizing the song, this was that godforsaken show on Star Poop that Massi and Dilsher watched all googly eyed, Laila was a religious follower too, so much so that she even used it as background music for their lust ridden sessions. But today something in the episode caught his attention too, it was a scene where in the hero and heroin brush against each other's cheeks, the heroin goes all red and then exclaims, "Aapki dadhi chubhti hai." The hero in turn kisses her cheek where his stubble had pricked her.
His male hormones went into a frenzy, they burst from the glands in generous spurts, oh what pleasure it was to be reminded of your masculinity by the woman you sought to indulge! He brushed his fingers against his two day old stubble, Ha, he was much more potent in pricking her soft skin than the dandy hero. With great anticipation he turned to Laila, "Thaane mhaari dadhi koni chubhe?" (Does my beard prick you as well?)
Laila smirked in response and looked at him quizzically, "Kay pharak pade?" (How does it even matter?) Rudra's heart split in four pieces of the four chambers each being filled in a despondancy never known before. Hell, why did he even expect something as sensitive as that from a wh**e!
^^^^
But Paro was a charm all together different. He knew she was capable of giving him that happiness, his ears had ached to hear those words from her mouth ever since he had gotten her under his custody. He had devised his plan taking every necessary precaution, hell he had YouTubed the entire series and had perceived that his wife bore an uncanny similarity to the drama's heroin.
This episode had given him just the direction for his orchestrations, here in the heroin begins to realize that she is falling for the hero. She imagines him everywhere and in everyone, including the autowala, watchman and dhobi, the scene ends with the heroin imagining the hero showering glittering stars and rose petals over her as she twirls and dances in glee.
Major saab scrounged countless shops for glittering stars but these darned women of Rajasthan wore so much glitter in their cholis that there was hardly any left for him to shower upon his wife, and Rudra Pratap Ranawat was allergic to roses. He was all Guns, period.
And thus he had showered her with pillow foam, what an ingenious idea that had been! After watching her dance in glee quite like the Star Poop heroin, he had stolen a couple of cheek kisses, eyelid kisses, and she with a fervor had stepped over his toes to kiss his forehead. And then had come the best moment in his life... the plan had met a vibrant success when he came down to necking and she muttered in that musical voice of hers, "Mhane thaari dadhi chubhe."
He felt more manly than the old blokes of his state who sported a mustache that reached till their shoulder blades. He wanted to dance in delight but alas that Mala had interrupted the moment and Paro went back on the KLPD spree. Sigh. Albeit his playing piano all over her narrow waist had sent fangirls drowning in a drool river, even the ones who didn't watch the show, on friend's advice YouTubed the episode and watched in the wee hours of night rubbing their toes together but Paro, hell, she was a mule.
But again the voice echoed in his head, " Mhane thaari dadhi chubhe." With a renewed zeal, he suddenly found his life much more livable, he gazed at the ceiling and whistled "Mhari Teetri." (My butterfly)
Another voice teased his brain, "Mr. Mathur's parting words were that his boss is rather cranky and the wife loony." Rudra lifted up the only furniture in the room, namely a table and slammed it against the wall, then he landed one solid kick breaking the hard wood into two pieces. Cranky? He'd show that Raizada what it meant to be really cranky.
****
Somewhere in heaven...
Devi Maiyya and Lord Shiva had missed the FIFA world cup semifinal of Brazil vs. Germany to watch this drama. Germay was going to win anyway, this Ru-nav drama was much more thrilling than that. Devi Maiyya was even biting her nails.
She smirked as Rudra whistled the Rajasthani folk song, "So Lord Shiva which team do you support?" she asked.
Lord Shiva scratched his chin, "Well Paro is my greatest devotee, I then, obviously will support Rudra." he declared his allegiance. "What about you?"
"Well, well, if Paro is your devotee, Khushi is mine, I'll definitely cheer for her husband." she chirped. "Man this is going to be so much fun, Rudra has no idea what it means to mess with the ASR."
"Really? Haha, we'll see who messes with whom." Lord Shiva said serenly.
*****
The next day...
Paro loved pictures, especially when they were colored. Although she couldn't read the article in the newspaper, but she could make out, Chandangarh was having a grand affair. Major Saab had left early in the morning muttering distastefully about a Bade Seher ka Vyapaari coming gracing the grounds of their district. Paro chose her favorite outfit for the occasion, Chotu Ram had brought her the newspaper.
The newspaper came with a colored supplement today, she rubbed her hands and opened it with childish eagerness and forgot to breath for a second. It was a photograph of the man the supplement was all about, his dressing style distinctly reminded her of the Goras who often came to their village with large black cameras slinging around their necks. They kept on clicking camel photos as if they had never seen a camel before! Paro giggled, how was that even possible, she had grown up with camels.
But this man though appeared a little like the goras wasn't one. He was Indian and such an exotic specimen at that! She suddenly felt her salivery glands activate, haw, she was about to drool. He wore this bada-bada kaala chasma, that her husband too sported sometimes, but his chasma looked different, he wore a green Polo T-shirt in the picture that stuck to his slim physique enticingly, Paro bit her lip.
She excitedly turned the next page that was supposed to have a his family's photograph, she wondered if there were more such exotic specimens in his family? But alas she gasped as she turned the page, she realized it must have been a slim woman beside him in the pic, one with a physique quite similar to her own but what Lord Shiva had done to her, the paper was brutally torn where the face of the woman must have existed, in fact the entire face part was missing!
Paro cried, "Chotu Ram, Va photoo kayeen geyo?" (Where did the photo go?)
The lanky little boy answered, "Kookaro jeem geyo" (The stray dog ate it.)
"Re Sivji, va kookar ne mhara hi akhbaar milo?" (That dog got only my paper to destroy?)
Nevertheless, she rushed to Rudra's cupboard and brought a pair of scissors, she deftly cut the photograph of the Gora-cum-Indian, who might talk patar-patar in angrezi, satisfied with her handiwork she took the photograph of the man who must be some celebrity coming to Chandangarh and placed it beneath her pillow. Would Major saab mind if he found out, well, why would she ever let him find that out? Haha, this was supposed to be a secret between her and Sivji, oh she so wanted to do this little deed. She kept on giggling incessantly, Chotu Ram who witnessed her antics asked with piqued curiosity, "Bhabhisa, the kaayeen keyo?" (What did you do Bhabhisa?), "Abar Major Saab Akhbaar mangesoon, main kaayeen karula?" (Now when Major asks for the paper, what would I do?)
"Va ne batayi deejo, Kookaro jeem geyo." said Paro with eyes twinkling mischievously. (Tell him, the dog ate)
****
Lord Shiva and Devi Maiyya sighed, here they had already decided their teams but these two loony devotees? What about them?
****
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