"Zoya, kya hua yun muh fulake kyon baithi hai? Why so serious?" Akram snapped his fingers in front her face to bring her out of the trance.
"Nothing yaar Akki. Kahan hoon main serious? See I am smiling." Zoya clicked a selfie with Akki sipping a mocktail in the background.
"Zoya, don't mind but you really seem a little off." pointed out Vibha, the chashmish lady Akram befriended during the event previously.
"See, Vibs has only known you for... like 15 minutes, and yet she could spot the difference." Akram nudged her. "Tell us na...what's wrong?"
Zoya didn't know what to tell them. She genuinely wanted to blend with the party mood.
She tried to let herself be floored by the glitz and glamour of the party.
She sipped on the cool summery drinks. She tapped her feet to the beats of the lounge music, posing and clicking selfie with her friends.
All the while, a growing sense of unease and restlessness gnawed at her heart with astonishing persistence.
Something was not right. Worse, she couldn't even tell what it was that bothered her so much.
"You are not missing your Akdoo Ahmed Khan, are you?" Akram narrowed his eyes.
"Oh shut it, Akki. Kya bakwas kar raha hai! Why should I miss him. Yeh toh achcha hua that Jille Ilahi didn't follow us to the party. Otherwise he would have bored us to death." Zoya waved her hand dismissively.
Akram took another sip of the blue lagoon and watched her without saying anything.
"Stop giving me that look, will you?" Zoya warned. "Allah Miyaan, what's wrong with you all? I just need some fresh air." She said wearily.
*****************************************************************************************************
Zoya sat alone beside the enormous indoor swimming pool at the back side of the hotel. She traced her fingers through the water and watched ripples forming around them.
The white of her kurti, the soft shimmer of her pearl earring reflected in the little waves, creating floating, broken images like a surreal dream.
This was not the way she was supposed to feel.
This was not the way she thought she'd have to spend the night.
She closed her eyes and let herself drown in the soothing depth of George Michael's voice, as he softly crooned:
Tonight the music seems so loud
I wish that we could lose this crowd
Maybe it's better this way
We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say
We could have been so good together
We could have lived this dance forever
But now who's gonna dance with me
Please stay...
*Did they really have to play 'careless whisper' precisely at this moment? Really?*
Zoya sighed and fished out her cell phone from the clutch. She browsed through her contacts still her fingers stopped at'Jahanpana'.
"Why do I care?" she scowled at the screen. "He is just a rude, arrogant, sadistic pr*ck on his one-way trip to hell. Why do I even care?"
To her dismay, she found herself dialing his number.
The phone rang several times before a recorded voice informed Zoya that the number she was trying to reach was currently unavailable.
Zoya frowned and redialed the number.
After trying another three times, finally someone picked up the call.
"Hello, Mr. Khan?" Zoya's voice was weak with relief, but it lasted only a few seconds before the person at the other end abruptly disconnected the call.
Zoya stared at the mobile screen, struggling to understand what was going on.
Moments before she was about to dial his number again, the phone rang.
It showed 'Jahanpana calling' on the screen.
Zoya received the call with trembling fingers and waited for the other end to respond.
"Are you a cop?" a harsh male voice, that definitely didn't belong to Asad, spoke.
"No." Zoya realized her throat had gone dry. *What was this guy doing with Mr.Khan's phone?*
"Fine. Do you want to place your bet then? Go ahead. " the voice softened a little.
"Bet? Uhh...I mean, yes I do." Zoya had no idea what this guy was talking about, but she was determined to know the whereabouts of Asad; and this guy looked like her best chance to find him.
"Tell me your rate, and your name...'code name' bhi chalega. Come to my place with hard cash, I repeat, only hard cash... and meet my guys at the Underground." the voice instructed.
"The Underground?" Zoya gulped. Even the name sounded ominous.
"How far are you from Whitefield? Look, we don't have much time. Our next fight may start in twenty minutes.
Right now it's Red Hood Vs Fighter 9 in the ring. Poor guy, this Fighter 9...the way Red Hood's punching his guts, he won't last another round.
It's a massacre! A glorious, bloody mayhem!" The guy squealed joyfully. "I feel for Fighter 9 though. It was Bro's first night out here. He didn't even have a stage name. I thought of christening him 'Punisher'...but the way Red Hood is punishing his existence, he may not live to see another day."
Zoya's head was reeling with confusion. This guy sounded like a crazy war-monger.
*What does Mr. Khan has to do with this place?*
"How did you get this phone? This is not your number!" she probed the guy again.
"Of course it's not mine. The fighters have to deposit their belongings, specially expensive ones, to me before the fight. You don't go bare-knuckle fist fighting with i-phone in your pocket, duh!" the guy laughed. "I think Fighter 9 gave it to me. It was buzzing endlessly, so I thought of saying hello...and gotcha! Another betting agent."
Zoya had a very sick feeling at the pit of her stomach. She was trying to connect the dots and the picture she was getting was extremely disturbing.
She decided to push her luck further and played along "Look, my boss wants to place a bet on the ongoing match also, but he is in Dubai and unable to decide the merits of the fighters. Can you make a short video clip of the fight and send it to me?"
"I told ya, this fight is a horror show. Trust me, you're not gonna like what you'll see...You can predict the result from a mile away. Red Hood is nailing it, man! Hold on, I am sending an MMS. See it for yourself." The guy disconnected the line.
Zoya held her breath and waited for it. Soon enough, the phone buzzed. She's received a video clip from Jahanpana.
It looked like a dimly lit basement, filled with smoke. A crowd, mostly comprising of tattooed men in grungy clothes, cheered two men circling each other in a ring. One of them was a big, bald guy in red shorts and a ridiculously embellished buckle around his waist.
Zoya let out a muffled cry when her eyes fell on the other guy.
The elaborate 'fallen angel' tattoo on his bare back was hard to miss, but his face was unrecognizable. The left side of his face was bloody, bruised. His left eye was horribly swollen to the point of looking disfigured.
He licked the blood and sweat off his split lips and readied himself for another round.
The crowd went berserk and chanted "Kill! Kill! Kill!"
"Going for another round !!!This guy's got a death wish." the clip ended with the voice of the guy Zoya had been speaking to so far.
Zoya jumped to her feet and dialed Asad's number once again. Predictably, the other guy picked up the call.
"Did you see that? Fighter 9 is going for another round." he sounded excited.
"Yes. Yes, I saw that. Look, I am coming with the money. To meet you, did you say , in Whitefield?" Zoya found herself hyperventilating.
"Just ask for Randy's garage once you come here. Everyone knows my place...and you better hurry up...there was a rumor that mamus (a slang for 'the police') may raid the garage tonight. Remember, we only accept cash. That's the Randy way!" the guy teased in a good-humored way.
"Yeah, sure. sure. Just do me a favour. Don't let Fighter 9 to leave your place. Make sure he stays put there. I am coming."
Zoya ran towards the parking lot and woke their driver Harmeet jee from his peaceful nap.
"Harmeet uncle, I need this car right now." Zoya gasped.
"Arre Zoya beta, kya baat hai aap itni pareshan kyon dikh rahi hai? Boliye na kahan jaana hai aap ko, main chhod deta hoon? Sab thik hai na beta?" Harmeet Singh looked genuinely alarmed.
(Zoya dear, why are you looking so stressed? I can drop you wherever you want to go. Is everything alright?)
"Harmeet uncle, can you tell me how far is Whitefield from here?"
"Kaafi dur hai, beta. It's about 15 kms from here."
"Uncle, aap ek kaam kijiye. Aap wapas hotel chale jaiye. Aaj raat ke liye mujhe yeh car chahiye."
(Uncle, please go back to the hotel. I need this car tonight)
Harmeet Singh still looked befuddled as he stepped out of the car and handed her the car keys. In her desperate state of urgency, Zoya almost snatched the key out of his hand and started the ignition.
"But Zoya beta, don't you want me to come with you?" He pleaded.
"Sorry uncle, but iss raaste pe mujhe akele hi chalna hai." Zoya gave him a sad smile before driving off in the distance.
"Wahe guru ji, iss bachchi ki raksha karna!" (Wahe guru ji, please look after this child) the old man looked heavenwards and chanted a prayer.
(to be continued)
Kabhi Neem Neem Kabhi Shahad Shahad
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