Catch Me? No You Can’t! Read online

  I heard her voice float to me as she touched my shoulder with her hand, “Take it easy! Don’t accelerate your motor.”

  The timeworn barman stood up from the stool and another well-built guy joined him. They walked up towards me.

  “Don’t! Leave the guy alone!” Silky said, and then she let out a scream.

  This was the moment of decision. Surprise was always good; delay disastrous. The first lesson I learned in prison: guys who let a situation unfold in its own good time just amass problems for themselves.

  I ran at the guy on my left, two choppy steps, like a cricketer jumping to take a far-fetched catch. I ran right through the guy, pushing him with my elbow till he hit the wall rack with glasses stacked into it. The old man had invited trouble by being rude with me; he had to pay for it. I merely punched him as he shielded his face with his hands. One punch and he was half dead.

  He fell on the ground, and I ran.

  The second lesson I had learned in prison: when outnumbered, hit a few good shots and run!

  I had forgotten the bar, the fat man, the glasses broken and bones rattled; I had even forgotten Silky and wanted some food and peace. I’d only got down the road a few hundred metres when the black Mercedes drew up beside me and she swung the door open. “Get in!” she said, smiling. “I don’t want you to get into any more trouble tonight.”

  “Yeah? Well, I don’t think that’s possible, because trouble is my middle name.” And so seems yours too.

  She came out the other door and walked towards me. “You don’t know Mirza. He is a dangerous man. And I am taking you away from this danger.” She poked her index finger nail into my chest, and that sent shivers down my spine. She looked at my chest and into the two top buttons open wide, and said with a smile, “I’m taking you home with me.”

  “Home? With you?” I said, pulling my shirt together. Why would a pretty and rich lady like her take a stranger home? Your guess is as good as mine was.

  “It’s not too far from here.” She patted my shoulder, smiling at me. “Come on, now! Don’t be a spoilsport.”

  She turned around and went in behind the wheel, waiting for me to get in. I got in rather uncertainly, wondering why she was acting so friendly and inviting me home.

  “I have a couple of reasons,” she said. Oh benchod, she reads minds. “For one thing, I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”

  “What else?” I could extract the thanks the way I wanted anytime anyway; I knew my charm.

  “The other reason…well, I wanted to see what you could do; how fearless you were. Whether you were really the kind of guy I thought you to be. I have been looking for the right guy, someone who would change my fate and help me get out of my mundane life.”

  Okay, that sounded creepy. What the hell was that supposed to mean? She just smiled, making it all the more mysterious.

  She drove straight on the national highway for a few kilometres and took a left turn into a narrow lane named Jacaranda Marg. After about five hundred metres, she took a right turn to park right in front of her house at the end of a pretty deserted lane. What’s with this woman and deserted lanes?

  It was a big white duplex bungalow standing in a clearing among two empty plots of land. It looked like it might have been a nice place at one time. The paint was peeling off now, and some of the front steps were broken. There was a large gate at the entrance and she parked the car inside the gate.

  “Well, here we are!” She opened the door and stepped on the gravel carefully. She had drunk enough to wobble, but was managing fine. God knows how!

  Her behaviour had been erratic and incomprehensible: nice at one moment, annoying the next. It all depended on how she felt, I presumed; and how she felt depended on how much booze she had in her. With just the right amount, she was nice. But if she didn’t have it, she got mean.

  “Are you worried I’ll rob you of your money and valuables, Mr. Tiwari?” she said in a taunting way.

  I laughed and said, “There’s not much you can rob me of.” She had to ask and I would give her that one thing I was so good at. “Though I wouldn’t say the same about you, of course.”

  She swaggered away a few steps, then came back to where I stood, “I’ve got some frozen snacks and food in the refrigerator. I’ve got some whiskey and just about everything else we would need. If you don’t want to be here, just say it and I’ll drive you back to the highway.”

  She was close, and smelled divine. Taste kaisa hoga iska? I winked in response and told her, “I am not in any particular hurry to go. I was just wondering what I can do for you.”

  “How do I know? That depends on you,” her enigmatic smile was back to charm me.

  “Well, I guess I will come in for a little while then, and figure things out,” I walked behind her, confident, all thanks to Rampyari.

  We went in through the doorway and as soon as we stepped into what once would have been the living room, she got busy pouring drinks from the bar on one side. It was neatly stacked with liquor. No wonder that was the only neat thing in the otherwise messy room. The furniture was old and there wasn’t a whole lot of it. It looked incomplete, you know, like there might have been more at some point of time.

  I strolled around, looking at the chairs covered with dust of ages and small side tables full of expensive gadgets. I could see an iPad, just about the only thing I could recognise. The other seemed to be a phone with a huge screen. There was something else, like a mini laptop without its keypad, but don’t know what it’s called. Just when my fingers were a few centimetres away, one screen lit up and I pulled my hand back. With almost ghostly precision, the other two screens lit up too. One was locked, the other two flashed the pictures of a little seven-year-old son of a business tycoon – Aryaman Oberoi. I picked up the phone, but it slipped and landed on the table with a thud. That’s when I saw there were small picture cuttings of the same kid below the iPad too.

  I hoped the phone wasn’t damaged by the fall. Silky came to where I was with the drinks, bringing the bottle with her. While I sipped my first peg sip after sip, she had gulped three.

  “Raja Tiwari,” she leaned back and looked at me. “You know, I think I’ll call you Tiwari.”

  “As you wish. A lot of people call me that.”

  “You know it’s bad manners to touch and see other people’s phones.” She pointed one finger at the side table, with the other three firmly gripping the glass.

  “I wasn’t snooping. I was just seeing the model and all other screens came to life on their own, opened up like a brothel’s door. That’s all! Sorry if they are personal pictures, though it doesn’t seem like it.” I smirked.

  She merely smiled.

  “Who is this kid anyway? And what are all those ghostly gadgets?”

  “Those gadgets are all brand new technology. I will show you how to use them, all in good time. And the boy…he’s the son of a billionaire friend,” she said. “I know you won’t believe he’s my friend, but that’s the truth baby.”

  She poured herself another drink, nearly a Patiala peg. She leaned back again, face flushed, her narrowed black eyes sparkling with eagerness.

  “You’re very fast with your hands, Tiwari. Fast and efficient. You put up a great fight in the bar and in the street. Where did you learn to fight like that?” She moved her hands on mine in a seductive way, moving them closer to my chest and then slowly slithering up to my shoulders. That had been nothing at all; so either she wanted me or something from me to be talking like that.

  “Well, I have been in many fights and have learnt it the hard way.” I was trying to stay in control, but she was making it difficult for me.

  “Can your hands only fight or do something better?” Monster was going out of control there. Ab Tiwari ki hogai poori tayyari!

  “My hands can do everything that you have ever dreamt of. But it depends on what you want.”

  “I want you. Please touch me,” she was moaning without touch.

  And boy
, she didn’t have to ask me twice. I didn’t even have time to take a deep breath for courage. Who would say no to such an offer! Suddenly my lips were on hers, hungry and sweet, both demanding and promising. She opened her mouth for me, inviting me deeper, welcoming my tongue with her own.

  Before she realized what I was doing, I eased my hands around her waist and lifted her, bringing her shoulders level with mine. She slipped her arms around my neck and held me tightly as we continued to kiss, deeply, endlessly, with both passion that enthralled, and sweetness that warmed.

  She wanted to cry when I moved my mouth away from hers, but sighed in satisfaction as I began to kiss the hot flesh of her neck. She hooked one leg around mine, rubbing her body restlessly against mine, seeking relief, wanting my heat, wanting it as if she had not experienced it in a long time.

  I sensed her weakness, and held her tightly around the hips as I continued the slow exploration of the curves of her breasts. I tugged the short sleeve off her shoulder and pulled the dress down, letting it fall to the floor at her feet.

  I undid the clasp of her bra, stepping back to watch her breasts fall free. My eyes darkened in appreciation, and she stood confidently before me, taking off her panties. “You’re so hot, Silky.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know, Tiwari.”

  Now, wearing only a pair of red leather heels, Silky waited for whatever delight was coming next. I leaned over to catch the tip of her breast and sucked it deeply; she arched forward and dug her fingers in my hair.

  She wanted me, and that’s why she had picked me up at the bar. I had nothing to complain. I pressed sweet, wet kisses and tiny love bites on one breast, before shifting to pay attention to the other. Her nipples were hard, pebbled, and as I caught one in my mouth and swirled my tongue over it, Silky closed her eyes and gave in to the sensations gushing through her body.

  Then I knelt down before her, running my mouth down her stomach, kissing her belly and taking deep breaths, as if imprinting her scent on my brain.

  Her skin was flooded with colour; her lips were parted and her breath came in short, uneven pants. When a sharp knock sounded on the door, her eyes opened abruptly. And not in lethargic ecstasy.

  She pushed me aside, looked at the tightly closed door, at me, down at her own completely naked – and absolutely luscious – body.

  “You can’t just stop like this…” I retaliated.

  “Dammit, will you shut up? There’s somebody on the door!” She quickly slipped into her clothes and ran towards the door. I lazily followed her into the living room. I watched the sensuous bend of her back as she opened the door.

  “It’s alright, Tiwari. It’s just Thakur.”

  “Thakur…?” The same Thakur for whom she was slapped by Mirza?

  He didn’t even come in. “Tiwari, make three drinks. We’ll be there in a minute,” she stepped out of the door and closed it behind her.

  It wasn’t a minute, more like half an hour. I couldn’t hear their conversation from where I was, but I had a strong hunch that I was the subject of it.

  Some ten minutes later, Silky dashed into the room, picked her phone up without looking at me and ran out again. I wonder if she was calling more people to witness me making out with her.

  I made three drinks, waited for them for a while, and then drank all three of them.

  Thakur was a man of about forty. His grey hair was either his wife’s doing or the world’s, but his warm, friendly eyes, and a smile that made you feel good every time he turned it on were the real catch. I didn’t know how Silky had gotten acquainted with him, and probably she didn’t either. That’s the kind of guy he was, if you know what I mean. You meet guys like Thakur once – just over a drink or a cup of tea, and you feel like you’ve known them all your life. To make you feel that way is their modus operandi.

  The first thing you know, they’re saving your telephone number; the next, they’re dropping by to see you. And not even because they want anything; just like that. Sooner or later, of course, they want something; and when they do, it’s awfully hard to say no to them. No matter what it was!

  Both of them had walked back in, and Silky had rushed to her favourite spot – the bar! The man called Thakur squeezed my hand, and said it was his great pleasure to meet me. “Silky told me you’re Tiwari, but wait till you become a real raja, the king. I am Pratap Thakur and you can call me Thakur.” Then, still hanging onto my hand, giving it a little squeeze now and then, he turned around to Silky.

  “Well…” he laughed and released my hand.

  Silky slouched into the couch and said that if we wanted any dinner, we should arrange it ourselves. So that’s what we did. Thakur heated the dal fry lying in the refrigerator, and I cooked rice. This was one of the few good things I had learnt in prison.

  “Well, Tiwari,” he said, “I’m glad you’ve decided to settle down for a while. Now, that you’ve found friends…”

  “…Settle down where?” That word upset me, like always. Faint memories of an old neighbour trying to convince me to settle down with his daughter flashed past my mind and I shuddered.

  Thakur eyed me suspiciously and said, “Right here… where else?” He firmly added, “Our little lady kind of needs someone to keep an eye on her. That Mirza is literally following her every-goddamn-where she goes. And there’s a nice little basement here, ready for you to move right in. I am sure you’d love to take it easy for a few days, get some rest and keep Silky out of trouble. That will give me time to see what I can stir up for you.” After some contemplative thought, he added, “I think I might be able to put you up for something pretty good pretty soon.”

  He looked at me, smiling, giving the dal fry turns without looking at it. Settling and all is fine, if the dal falls out, we will go hungry, you fool! I took my eyes off, to save the dal, of course.

  My gut feeling alerted me against the extra sweet man. I wondered why these people were being nice to me. Whatever the hell they are planning, I am sure I am way more smart to counter it.

  “Maybe you already have an eye on something where you could use my skills,” I prodded.

  He laughed for the first time, and a golden tooth glimmered from the right corner of his mouth. “You are a sharp boy!” Oh yes, I needed your stamp of approval, you dickhead! Now I will go straight to heaven.

  He looked at Silky and then quickly back at me with an I-told-you-so expression that was hard to miss. “I told her that this man here could have had a rough life, but he is nervy and sharp. I like you.”

  Silky chuckled and said, “You like everyone, Thakur. Including yourself.” She sure knew how to douse his fire; he looked beaten.

  “Ignore her; she is drunk,” he continued with me. “You know your job and you have what it takes to carry it through. The best thing about you is: If we treat you right, you will treat us right.”

  There was a spark in his eyes when he said that. That’s my line; I say that after beating the shit out of anyone who doesn’t treat me right. Who is he and how does he know about it? Or was this a lucky guess?

  “Look, Thakur…” I was visibly intrigued by his knowledge of my leitmotif.

  “Look what, Tiwari?…Okay, go right ahead and get it off your chest.” His smile had vanished and his tone was as business-like as you could have without getting rude.

  “Well, I appreciate your kindness, the compliments and all, but…but you don’t really know me. There’s no way you could. I know you’re trying to be nice because I saved Silky some trouble that you had kicked off. If your guilt is now taken care of, I’d appreciate you spare me the trouble. And if you really knew the kind of guy I am, you wouldn’t feel the same way. Trust me!”

  The rice was done, and so was I. The dal was boiling, and so was he. He glanced around sharply, frowning at me for the first time. The force with which he turned the gas knob off made me feel he would have done the same to my neck. Ouch!

  “I’ll tell you what I know, okay? And listen carefully because I don�
�t repeat, neither women, nor words. I have been an ex-police officer in the same jail that you just got out of. And maybe it’s because I know so much about you that you are here.” I don’t know if he is sharp, but his information was impeccable. And that’s how he knew!

  “I know people, Tiwari. I know what they can do and what they cannot. I have put a lot of bright boys next to some pretty good stuff in the past too. All of them had been small players like you…” Small players do your woman, I see. I will show you your place, Chutiye!

  “They’d never won a big game until I showed them the way.” He was proud of it, or so it seemed. I found this thought funny: I had been thinking of Jai and Veeru when I came out of prison, and here was one Thakur ready. Wonder if Silky would be a good Basanti.

  We ate little and in silence for long, while Silky sat there mussing the food on her plate, drinking and sneering at us every time we opened our mouths.

  “This damned house,” she said, glaring at Thakur. “You made me sell the house that I got in my divorce settlement and now you are making me stay in this big shit hole. I thought this was a temporary arrangement.”

  “Now, Silky,” he said, calmly. “No one knows about this house. With Mirza after you, the only way to stay out of trouble is to hide here. It’ll be all right; it’s just a matter of some time. You need to be patient.”

  “Oh, yeah! Just because you chose to betray that gandu, I have to keep hiding?” Her eyes wavered. “And what about that lousy Mercedes you made me buy? It drinks up more than me, and you…”

  “Oh come on! I got you a good deal. And you know as much as I do why we need this car.”

  “You and your evil plans!” She almost yelled it, “Who the hell talked me into it?” Wow, this woman can shriek!

  “You’ll thank me for it soon, baby.” Thakur paused to see the impact of her words, but silky didn’t really bother. “You trust me and run through this tough patch, you’ll be wearing diamonds and picking notes by the kilos.” As if they were waste paper, by the kilos! Kitna fenkta hai sala!