Club You to Death by Anuja Chauhan (pdf e book reader .TXT) 📗

‘There’s mud on your nose,’ he tells her in a more natural voice as he digs into his pockets for his wallet.

She grins cheerfully. ‘Perks of the job. I’ve spent the whole morning digging up the finest produce from the DTC kitchen garden with my main men here!’

She indicates her two assistants, also wearing red-checked aprons. Kashi nods at them in a friendly way.

‘But where’s Guppie Ram ji?’ he asks. ‘He’s the resident garden fairy at the DTC, isn’t it?’

The garrulous old gardener had befriended Bambi and Kashi when they were kids, picking out leaves and flowers and bird feathers for their science homework, helping them build a treehouse, and even organizing a most solemn burial for a dead baby squirrel once.

Bambi’s face falls slightly. ‘He died,’ she says. ‘Didn’t you know?’

Kashi shakes his head. ‘No. Shit.’

‘You haven’t been here for ages, have you?’

He nods.

There’s a small pause.

In a resolutely gay voice, Bambi addresses her assistants. ‘Guys, say hello to Kashi Dogra, mere bachpan ka dost!’

They smile at him.

‘Sir, take juice?’

A disproportionately black wave of resentment sweeps over Kashi at this glib introduction. Mere bachpan ka dost? My childhood friend? Is that what you call somebody who was your ‘best guy friend’ right through high school, somebody you spoke to every night, sometimes from midnight to six in the morning, whom you claimed to love and promoted to boyfriend in college, whom you went to three-and-a-half bases with? He tells himself he’s overreacting and manages to somehow bite down on the bile, but his eyes, when he looks up again after extracting some notes from his wallet, are decidedly cool.

‘Sure,’ he replies indifferently to the assistant.

‘Heyyy, guys!! What’s upppp?’

Kashi almost drops his wallet. A horde of ex-TVVS girls has descended on them, and he is suddenly drowning in a flurry of effusive, scented hugs, straightened hair and curious eyes.

He studied with these girls from nursery to class seven, but even then he has never been able to get their names straight. They’re all called Pia/Kia/Tia/Sia/Dia/Lia – and so naturally, they’d ended up being nicknamed the Ghia-Lauki gang. They’re in full attendance today – except for one, who had an arranged marriage with a major movie star a couple of years ago and vanished from the Delhi scene forever.

He hugs them all dutifully and listens as they tell him that they’ve been well, that they all did their graduation from the States and have come back to work in their family businesses. Two of them have got married. And Sia’s having a birthday party soon with lots of the old TVVS gang from school. Bambi’s already promised to come – would he like to come too?

Would I like to kill myself, Kashi thinks wryly. If the DTC is a bubble of privilege, then the old TVVS gang is a bubble within a bubble – a hardened Perspex shell, suffocating, unbreakable.

‘Bring your girlfriend,’ one of them adds slyly, which, Kashi notes with a little rush of exultation, makes Bambi narrow her eyes and flare her nostrils in a gesture he knows all too well.

‘She’s in Kalahandi,’ he replies. ‘We’re doing the long-distance thing.’

‘Awww, that sucks!’ commiserates a Sia/Pia/Ria/Tia. ‘Is the time difference really intense?’

‘Ohmygod, Kalahandi’s in India, Tia!’ Bambi snaps. ‘In Odisha. Why do you not know that?’

Tia widens her eyes. ‘The point is why do you know that, babe? Been stalking him much?’

They all scream with laughter and walk away. Bambi glares after them disgustedly.

‘Why are they always so mean to me?’

‘Uh, you weren’t particularly nice to them,’ he points out.

She grimaces, looking slightly guilty. The insinuation that she’s been stalking him hangs unaddressed between them.

‘Oh, just buy some juice!’ she says finally, sounding rather fed-up.

Kashi nods, moving in closer. ‘Which one would you recommend?’

‘Are you very happy with Miss Kalahandi?’

The question comes without any context, in typical artless Bambi Todi style.

‘Kuhu.’ Kashi corrects her automatically. ‘Yes – yes, I am.’

‘Then have the chukkandar juice.’ She grabs a bunch of beets and drops them into the mixer. ‘Beetroot is a fibre-dense superfood, packed with inorganic nitrates, and great for lowering blood pressure!’ She adds some mint leaves, ginger, and sliced apple, shuts the lid, leans on it, and flips a button. As the mixer starts to roar, she shouts above it. ‘Also, it turns all your um … body secretions pink! A nice little surprise for your next video call with the GF!’

Several people look around. Bambi giggles, and defiantly stares them down.

Same old no-fucks-given Bambi, Akash thinks resignedly as she turns the mixer off, pours the frothy concoction into a clear glass and offers it to him with a flourish. It glows a deep red in the winter sun.

Feeling like he’s sliding backwards in time, he takes the glass from her.

‘I recommend that you go buy a large vodka and spike it,’ she leans forward and says softly. ‘Oh, and get me one too. I’m bloody expiring over here!’

‘Come get it with me,’ he hears himself say impulsively. ‘Can’t your assistants handle the show for a bit?’

She hesitates, her eyes skimming about her stall, then coming back to rest on him doubtfully.

Why the hell is he persisting with this? He’s done with her, she’s dead to him. He had been perfectly happy and at peace only half an hour ago!

He leans in, his voice persuasive. ‘Come on, Bambino.’

She hesitates, then shakes her head. ‘This is the busiest part of the day …’

‘You need a break!’ Kashi hears himself say firmly. His hands rise, as if to untie the apron from around the back of her neck, his fingertips tingling in anticipation of touching the soft, well-remembered brown hair.

Then he steps back and shoves his hands into his pockets. ‘Just ten minutes? Maybe we’ll win fifty lakhs!’

She closes her eyes and rocks on her heels for a moment, dithering, then gives a quick, decided nod, whips off her apron and grabs his arm. As she smiles up at him, sunshine on her face, he remembers the smallness of her and how