Part2 continued...
11:00pm, Ahmed guest house.
"Abdul
bhai.."
Making a fan with the currency he just won, the winning-hand called out.
"Remind me of this..." he teasingly fanned. "...if I happen to say - 'sorry, I can't
make it' - for another party."
"Next
party..." Abdul grunted, hitting the Ping-Pong ball with vengeance. "I'll keep in
mind to ditch you an invitation... you money-f*cker."
"Bang on
bro!" Nine other men cheered, seconding
Abdul for the title he devised. Food, drinks, DJ... cards, billiards, ping-pong...
fun, frolic and folly - the sports lounge of Ahmed guesthouse appeared more
like an elite mad club with thirteen sophisticated, swanky, controlled lunatics in it.
Having
lost three hands in a row to a particular money-f**ker, Abdul leapt to ping-pong
table. He first had to expel the frustration of three losses, before his hands
lay on cards again. Going breakeven with two wins and two losses Chetan still
hooked to cards - very determined to go head to head with lady luck. "When was
the last time you joined us? "Another friend from another table mocked the
usually missing-head. "1947... when India became independent or 1962 when we're
fighting China?"
"Wow!
Someone misses me so much here." The winning-hand flashed a grin at his
instigator. "What was it? Two years... when we were drinking and dancing on
beaches of Goa?" He verified with Chetan, sitting across him.
"Right.
Two years." Chetan agreed referring to his bachelor party in Goa.
"I only
missed Abdul's bachelor party." Folding hands at nape, he relaxed in seat
watching Chetan shuffle. "I was so
looking for boss's bash last year, but then..." he threw head back and winked at
Jalal. "A lot of good stuff happened. Isn't it boss?"
Jalal
winked back, straightening up with his cue stick after a strike.
"Oh...
nothing like being a bachelor again!"
With a
shot of vodka in hands, a man staggered to Jalal's side. "Nothing like you bossing your life.
You're lucky bro. Divorce is a blessing. It doesn't happen to all. Look at
me." The drunk head grumbled. "Imagine one's wife calling every fifteen minutes to tutor
you on what to drink, what not to drink, how much to drink and how much not to drink....please..." He irately threw up hand and stumbled. "...someone tell that lady that I
manage forty people under me. This is after all, what... whisky."
"Vodka."
Jalal
dryly corrected, trying to help his friend stand straight.
"Whatever!"
The
boozer stabilized on his own, refusing Jalal's help.
"The
point is... you're lucky to have no such woman in life. You Prithvi..." he turned to
Jalal's billiards partner. "I warn you... never ever get there. Altars aren't
altars- they're slaughterhouses. It's strange that no altar carries this
statutory warning - MARRIAGE IS INJURIOUS TO INDEPENDENCE. MARRIAGE KILLS." He
made a gesture of throat-cut and the lounge filled with wolf whistles.
"What a
line!"
"You
slayed it bhai!
"Golimaar line... !"
"Thank
you... thank you..." He waved to his audience. "On that note..." he tipped his glass
towards Jalal. "Three cheers to your regained freedom." He toasted and frowned.
"That sounds familiar. Did I toast you before this?
Pursing
lips, Jalal coolly winked. "Yep. Twice!"
Considering
this for a moment, the languid friend grinned. "If I were to pick one quality
from you..." he glanced down at Jalal's emptied flute. "...it'd be your cool
headedness. No matter how many shots go into you or how many digs people take
at you, you stay always cool man." He winked and walked away
tipsy, leaving an amused Jalal smugly smiling at a similar reference coming
from a certain darling dearest.
"I have a question." She
had asked, snuggled against his neck - her red fingertips doing lazy caresses
on his chest - precisely at the spot she hit him with phone that morning. The minute Jodha realized the shoulder fondling is going the
devastating way, she simply turned into Jalal, threw arms around his neck, and
silently sought his help to cool her down.
Seeking help from the
same man who wreaked havoc?! Cute!
Jalal's lips curved into a fond grin. He kissed her pleading eyes,
gyred her into his warm body and began striking her arm in slow, drawled
caresses.
Same body... same
fingers! Two poles apart effects.
Jodha planted a soft thank you kiss to his jaw before ducking her head into
his neck curvature.
"How do you manage to be so cool?" she asked, still with drawing patterns
on the hit spot. "Always in full control, always in charge of situation, never
losing wits..." she sighed... looking up and stepping back. Folding arms at
stomach, she appeared determined to pry the secret out of him. "How do you do
that Jalal?"
Curling up his right leg against the door, Jalal brought her hair
front - to shoulder traps - so that the long locks covered evidences of his
fondling. "That sounded nearly envious, sweetie."
"I've a reason to be," she pouted. "I feel so stupid doing this
huffing puffing while you stand me watching... as cool as an ice bucket. It pricks my
ego, you know?"
Chuckling, Jalal chucked her under chin. "Big fat ego, eh?" His
forearms rested on either of her shoulders.
"You don't have to be always cool buddy." He leaned in imparting
his trade secret. "But when your counterpart is hotheaded, you definitely need
to play it cool. Because..." he winked.
"...two hotheads never get the job done."
"Ahaan!" Jodha drawled, taking in his secret... and scent. "Thanks for the tip buddy. Going forward...
between two of us," she gestured to them with index finger. "I'll play the cool
head."
"Nah. Never!" Jalal's arm dropped from her right shoulder to hip, drawing
her in. "Between two of us..." he imitated her gesture. "You'll always be the
hothead."
Making a barrier between their bodies by fixing palms on his chest,
she suspiciously demanded. "Why is it so?"
"Because..." his nose ran along her cheek. "...certain huffing puffing,
grumpy girl makes very... very sizzling, tempting... jeez!" He swore, scrunching
nose. "What is this?" he sniffed the spot where it smelled extremely drugging. He
had inhaled this fragrance for first time when she stood half foot away from him. Since then he had been breaking heads, yet couldn't figure out what that familiar-but-not-so-familiar smell is.
"New perfume?"
"Yes. Butter & condensed milk flavor."
Jodha delivered the pun so candidly that Jalal instantly shot back,
checking her seriousness in that answer.
"Home made perfume." She pursed lips. "Very easy to prepare. Put
butter and condensed milk in a bowl. Leave hand mixer on and... BOOM" she boom-ed
with fingers. "Butter perfume all over you."
"Oh, yeah... butter!"
He now recognized the fragrance, but just for
additional confirmation, he lightly sucked the sweet spot on her cheek.
Yes! Butter only. He sucked some more. Sweet
butter! He testified, after some
more sucking. Sweet & soft too...
Sweet... soft... silky...Darn!
He sucked in a large portion of her cheek, unable to get out of the
spell. This couldn't be any butter. For
the effect it's having on him, it had to be some dangerous butter drug.
"Sweetie..." he whispered against her cheek, thick and rugged. "Where
else did you spray this butter perfume?"
Like hell she'd say that?
Jodha's
fists bunched his shirt, obviously to nudge him. But her mind was so busy
dealing with the spasms his husky sweetie caused, that it
totally forgot to send shove-the-man signals to her hands.
"This man should carry
a sign board." She helplessly cursed. "Huskiness
kills."
Jodha cleared throat, poorly trying not to encourage him with her
drugged voice. "If I'm any wise... I
wouldn't answer that."
"If you're any wise, Sweetheart," his nose grazed her chin.
"You'd just say it... than letting ME find out."
OKAY! She considered this
threatening while her unruly hands worked on their way to his nape. "Still..."
she lurched head back, boldly daring him.
"Not saying!"
Jalal stared, first at the defiance in her eyes and then at the
acceptance in her garlanded arms.
"Smart little minx!" Shaking head, he grinned... ran a hand down her
bottom and lifted her up... till the base of her throat leveled with his mouth.
Just before his lips lounged down, he whispered her a cheesy message.
"Churn-the-butter game thus begins darling."
One... two... three... four...
Five seconds...were all it took for Jodha to lose. The deft player marked
his win when his heavily breathing girl moaned...
Oh...J... pleaseee!!!
"Are you
sure you're gonna take that strike tonight?"
Prithvi quipped bemused. "Just asking... so that I move on to cards or Ping-Pong.
Unfortunately I'm not one of your fangirls to happily ogle that s*xy-bent-forever
pose of yours for eternity."
Not
falling for that goading, Jalal finished the strike, successfully pocketing one
of his two leftover object balls. Knowing that he wouldn't get his chance to
strike, as boss had returned to action, Prithvi eased against the table.
"Mushy
thoughts, huh?"
Before
Jalal responded, Abdul intervened. "Hitting bar for another round, joining me?"
He asked Jalal, leaving the law-abiding officer to his
no-more-than-government-permitted-alcohol-level policy since Prithvi planned to
drive back home.
"No."
Jalal refused, aiming for the eighth ball.
"I was
given two options - either to stash a barrel of liquor down my throat and stay
here. Or to limit it to two shots and drive back home." He positioned cue for
final strike.
"I did
four. So no more." His right arm lurched, black ball pocketed and he stood up winking
at Prithvi.
Game over!
"What?!" Abdul held up hands, mock shocked. "Options...? Here! Here!"
Devilishly grinning, he banged on Jalal's back. "Bro... I'm so up for this. Watching
the mighty boss roasted and burned with rules and regulations - Man, its going to be so
f**king fun." Evilly rubbing hands, the rouge's incarnate lowered his voice to a wicked
whisper. "Tell Jodha that I sooo... love her for this."
"Stick
your love up your..."
The cool
boss gladly mouthed the location for his friend, throttled him towards bar and moved
on to arrange next set of pool, grinning.
"You actually
surprised me with that." The amused officer shrugged. "You abiding to gharelu rules and all... somehow you don't
make that picture man."
Jalal
peeked up from table... a little flushed.
What is it today? A sly smile escaped his lips. Jalal's-throwback-Wednesday?
"Its not
about rules," he finished stacking balls and walked to head side of table. "She
fears and despises drunk & drive. There is no way I can take off her fears,
the least I can do is to not add to it."
"Oh!" Having heard of Jodha's brother's tragic demise, Prithvi nodded in understanding.
At the
end of second game, with Jalal winning again and Prithvi vowing to payback in two
sets of Tennis, a game the latter mastered, the friends scooted towards bar for
non alcoholic beverages.
"I think
I have a birthday gift for you." The ACP mystically winked, twirling his white
grape spritzer.
"Gift?"
Jalal
asked evidently surprised, for, the four of them didn't do gifts... not even for
special occasions like weddings. "As in?"
"As in a
name!" Prithvi thoughtfully bit on lip,
piquing Jalal's curiosity.
"Whose name?"
"Jodha's stalker!" The officer's voice dropped
to whisper. "And perhaps her parents' murderer!"
The glass
in Jalal's hand slowly rested on bar counter.
"Who's he?"
~~~
Shyamkumar... bank clerk... forgery...
arrest... revenge... murder! Jalal's fingers mechanically handled cards but his mind was still
processing the information Prithvi shared.
It was
ten minutes past twelve. Cake was cut, bar was closed and cards game was at its
soaring peak. With all hands on desk, the stakes were running high. There is
tension in air on who's going to turn the cards down and call the pile of notes
accumulated at center of table. Any other day, Jalal's complete focus would've
been on that one last card he needed to claim the stakes but today there
was other pressing matter deluging his head.
They've a name now, but a long way
before stamping the name - 'convicted'. Also there is another one, the dangerous
head, still lurking behind the bushes. No clue on how long before they have a
name for that head too!
Finding
the card the third hand just dropped totally useless, his fingers laid on the center
spread deck and...
Peep... peep! His cell phone beeped and the faint worry line on his forehead inadvertently smoothened. He knew the sender of the text even before he pulled his phone out.
It had to be her!
That evening, before he left for party, she turned off onscreen
notifications for 'safety & privacy' purposes and set a special tone for
her messages.
Clever little nymph!
He
checked the card he picked, injected it after a spade 9, and dropped another
one - upside down.
SHOW!
He looked
at his mates smirking and welcoming the tirade of outrage.
Abbe...saala... half billion turnover
isn't enough? How much more will you loot?
F**k you man... Seriously... I was
just one card away!
Lafoot... Did you plan this month
employee paychecks on us?
Next time you invite me to this
mugging... I'm gonna stick the invitation up your ass buddy!
Enjoying
the blast, Jalal swiped his phone expecting a text message, but what was
waiting him was a picture message. Specifically...
A collage
of cake, candles and kohl filled eyes,
her kohl filled eyes - with a subtle
caption -
Awaiting
you!
Wow!
A message
warming him up is something Jalal hadn't experienced before. He stared at her eyes...
temporarily ignoring the mayhem around him. He didn't know much about kohls and eyeliners but one thing he
knew - Whatever it was, it successfully accomplished its
job of highlighting the doe shape to perfection!
His gaze
shifted to cake and a known smile crossed his lips.
"Certainly not before 1:00am..." he told her when she had asked when
he'd return. "And certainly not before they empty my pockets. There are some
serious players waiting for payback there. But if you tell me what's OUR plan
for the night," he smirked sheepish, "I will think to make it early."
"Nothing much" she followed him to car. "Cake & candles, DJ
& dance!"
"Dance?" he turned back suspicious. "Who's dancing here?"
Obviously not she, as
she didn't have her super power anklets!
Jodha poked him in the chest "You..." - and then cheekily whirled her finger in air,
rolling her eyes along. "To my tunes!"
Sassy idiot!
He checked
the cake again.
Not bad!
For a first
time baker that she is, it actually turned out surprisingly well.
He was
about to lock his phone and throw a convincing departure excuse to his friends
when another message popped up.
Heated argument going on here!
His brows
cringed in confusion. A long pause later, he received another picture message.
A picture
of a pink rose and a pair of pouting pink lips facing each other!
Need expert opinion. Who is pinker?
Whattt?
"Be right
back!" he excused from the group and swiftly stormed out, with three pairs of intrigued
eyes tailing him. Once outside, the dark night welcomed him with a thunder and
a gush of moist air. Free from scrutiny and noise... he peacefully gauged the
picture.
A pink
rose lay down on a table; Jodha's chin was propped on her fingers and at level
with the lying rose. The picture was taken from left, showing a side profile of
pouting, lipstick filled lips nearly kissing the rose.
Ahem? His lips thinned in amusement. Teasing me minx?!
He zoomed
in the pic, getting a close view of her lips. Funnily, they reminded him of strawberries he used to find in the US. Yes... fully ripen, delicious berries that
brightly shined on outside and were excruciatingly juicy inside...
His
finger unconsciously grazed her lower lip.
Only difference is the berries
there were red and here... pink!
Verdict will be announced soon... in person.
He texted
her back- his dexterous mind helping him with step-by-step process of devouring
a strawberry.
Close your mouth on it...
Lick it for a moment...
Slowly bite into the fruit...
Suck all juice...
Munch... and live the experience!
Coming home Sweetie!
~~~
'12:50am'
Dropping
the matchbox into kit, Jodha checked her silver strapped watch.
He should be almost home.
She
tossed a satisfying glance at the candle lit lounge, dim purple ceiling lights, and
flower decorated center table. Planning to take the cake out of fridge right
before Jalal arrived, she dialed him, waited till the last ring and dialed
him again.
Pursing lips at unanswered
calls, the vivacious lady sprinted downstairs - the pleats of baby pink sari falling around
her in smooth folds. She knew for sure Jalal was on the way home, for, he had called
her after getting into car. When he
joked about adding some butter-drug to Vasantha's milk and put her to
unconscious sleep, she had told him she found a better alternative i.e sending
Vasantha home.
"You sent her home? You're alone now?"
She didn't quite understand the reason but she could bet he sounded
almost angry when he should actually be happy for her so 'thoughtful' act.
"Haan... there was some
function in her neighbor's home. Her son had called..." she confusedly explained. "But
she refused to go. Only after my insistence she left; she'll be back by
breakfast time tomorrow. And when am I alone? The security guard is still there
na? Why do you sound so miffed?"
Because there is a pervert
in town stalking you!
"Not miffed..." Jalal corrected his tone. "Guilty- that I indulged
into my fun leaving you alone."
She didn't completely buy in that reason, but there is nothing
she could do about it either.
"Don't worry. There's a long night to make it up to me." She
thoughtlessly said and bit on tongue.
12:20! Jodha checked the timing of his last
call.
30 minutes since he started. Rain
slows down driving. She
explained herself. He'll be here any
minute.
She
strolled aimlessly from study to living and back n forth, doted on the cake in
fridge for n+1th time, took few more selfies... and when she was out of pastimes,
she dialed Jalal again.
She
received no response and it got her thinking.
He's driving! That means any call
to his phone will be directed to Jaguar's Bluetooth audio. Not an ideal phone-in-silent-mode-and-I-didn't-hear-rings
situation too. Then... what's happening?
Resting
head back, she closed eyes, focusing on the alternatives to reach out to Jalal.
Call
Abdul or Chetan or Prithvi - But she had none of their numbers.
Call
guesthouse - She didn't have that number either. Perhaps, the security had but
what will she know from guesthouse - that Jalal left for home - which
she already knew.
Go in
search of Jalal - Stupid idea. He'll strangle her neck for stepping out alone,
at night.
Basically there's nothing she could do than- sit and stew!
After
what felt like an eternity, she took phone to hands, only to
realize her last call was done - just two minutes ago.
Tension and time - born rivals! Always working on opposite sides!
She knew if Jalal had checked his phone, he'd have returned her calls and since he
didn't, it meant her next call is also going to be in vain. Nevertheless, her
fingers tapped his contact.
Pick up... pick up!
Her right
leg bounced while she anxiously waited. Pick
up Jalal. I don't need a midnight suspense drama as finishing touch to my exciting
day!
Uh hmm!
No response yet!
Time-
1:10!
His
birthday started one hour ten minutes ago but the birthday cake was still
sitting in fridge, the candles were halfway through extinguishing and the girl he
was supposed to have exclusive celebration with, was there - seated on a porch
step and staring at the distant iron gates - alone, weary and wary!
For the distraught
girl, last twenty minutes had been the toughest twenty minutes in times
immemorial. She had to invest every ounce of her willpower to not let her
berserk mind take a nasty path to a specific night, last October. And it wasn't
just the ugly parallels between nights she had to combat against- there were these ugly voices
too that cracked her spirits.
She has a frail fate...
Why is it happening to her? Get
her horoscope checked
You're ominous to wed... not to bed...
I lost all men who called me Meenu...
don't call me that!
During
every such ugly run, she firmly held on to strings of optimism, trying her best to kill negativity that nearly succeeded in reducing her to a cowardice.
I'll not stop loving you even if
you're ominous...
Jo... my lady luck. You wished me
'good luck' and I survived this semester exams...
Raghu's fate changed after his
daughter's birth. She brought him luck...
Raghu... see Jodha's face before
going out on any significant work. She's a lucky charm.
Yes... yes! She repeatedly assured herself,
wiping tears off her cheeks. I'm not any
bad curse. Neither 'Meenu' is a bad omen. It's just an absurd belief. Suppose,
I let everyone in this world call me Meenu, will everyone die? No, right?
There were times when people found
me lucky, times when relatives found my horoscope great... Yes. She's not
ill-fated, not unlucky... not a doom... not a curse...
She
repeated the mantra, until her will and wits died a slow death... with every
ticking second. A nagging fear viscously
seeped into her nerves, poisoning all her vigor and valor - bit by bit. At the
end of it, she was left so dazed, distraught and unsettled... that she began
doubting herself.
You are no 'bad curse' but - the
fact that Gautam died in an accident at night, the fact that your parents died in
an accident, again at night... cannot be totally ignored, right?
'Meenu' is certainly not a bad omen
but - the fact two men who called you so died and the third one went missing
cannot be brushed off, right?
It's not entirely 'bad you' but
it could be some bad combination, like - Meenu, a vehicle and midnight drive!
Right - twelve to two midnight should
be a bad time for you. It should be the time when your doom stars are in full
potency suppressing your lucky charms. Else how come both accidents happen in same time frame?
And now... third...?
NO! NO! NO!
Don't even get there!
Trust your friend, if not your
fate. He isn't heartless. He had taken
enough from you. He will not take more!
1:13pm
OKAY! I'm a curse!
The
despondent girl still sat in that dim lit porch, feeling more doomed than
before after the ten plus calls she did in past three minutes. Contrary to the
cacophonous tears the sky shed, her mourning was silent... and cold.
But that is to MY men! To the men,
directly related to me.
She looked up at the lightening sky, challenging and bargaining. You see there is a condition here. You can take
away only people from my family... whom I share a relation with. Not Jalal...
Her eyes
twitched at the sudden gust of a pool of tears.
Because... Jalal is not mine! We're
no way linked up - he's not my brother or father or fiance or husband. Technically...
you can't do any harm to him, right?!
She tried
turning HIS game on HIM... but somewhere deeply within, she feared toying with
HIM.
OKAY! I give up...
If this is some joke you're
pulling on me... here I'm... laugh at me.
If this is some challenge you're
playing against me... here I'm... defeated.
If this is some lesson you're
teaching me...
To the
numbed hands, it took a moment to perceive vibration on her phone.
To the passive
ears, it took longer than a moment to hear the ring tone.
And to the
clogged eyes, it took many more moments to identify the name of caller.
JALAL!
Her heart
leapt, lips curved, eyes shed some more tears and fingers galloped to press
answer button... but just in time she slowed down, peeking up again... at the dark,
frightening sky.
A similar
memory from past deluged her head - memory of an anonymous man calling from her
father's phone.
************
Edited by hemakeerti - 6 years ago
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