Lovely Games

Last Sunday, at the Book Fair, a young lady was trying to sell Sachin’s autobiography to me. She reminded me of someone I knew, someone I would have liked to please. If only it had been someone else’s book. I shook my head, turned away reluctantly, and bumped into a short, well-built lady. I said, ‘Excuse me.’ She said my name. I looked at her. ‘Don’t you remember me?’ she asked. I smiled. ‘You made me cry!’ she said happily. ‘When was this?’ I said with a laugh. ‘We must have been ten then,’ she said. ‘Oh yes, I remember!’ I exclaimed. I used to look much better then. She must have too.

On Monday, I thought about that meeting. I rummaged through the contents of an old box with letters, certificates and presents, carefully preserved for the posthumous pyre. One of those presents was a leaky pen, which had done all it could to obliterate the note that came along with the gift. I could decipher a scrawl at the end, ‘Your darling’. I was taken aback. I wondered if it was that crying girl of ten I met on Sunday. But it seemed to belong to a much later age.

Tuesday was a quiet day. I did wake up to find my wife’s face a bit too close. If she had said, ‘I love you’, I would have screamed. She did not, lovely being that she is. As I said, it was a quiet day.

Wednesday was rolling along nicely, till tea-time. The landline phone rang then. My wife picked it up, and handed it to me, ‘It’s for you.’ I raised an eyebrow, she shrugged and I took the receiver from her. ‘Guess who?’ a lady said. ‘Not again,’ I thought to myself. ‘It’s our thirtieth anniversary,’ she said. ‘Really...?’ I asked tentatively. ‘You said the same then. What a coincidence!’ she shrieked. My wife looked at me, I shrugged and she turned away. ‘And what did you say then? Surely not the same...?’ I said jovially. ‘You don’t remember?’ she asked, sounding a bit disappointed. ‘Do you think I will forget? Just want to hear it again,’ I flirted shamelessly. ‘I love you,’ she said. ‘What?!’ my thoughts shrieked. We talked about old times for a while. When I placed the phone on the hook, my wife asked, ‘Who was it?’ ‘Not too sure,’ I said. My wife did not even raise an eyebrow.

I kept a low profile on Thursday, safely confined to my room, doing little, wary of poltergeists in any form jumping out at me. At bedtime, when I thought I had got through the day safely, my wife turned to me and said, ‘I met a lady at the grocery today...’ ‘Yeah, yeah, she knew me, and was my girlfriend, right?’ I said. ‘How did you know?’ she propped herself up on an elbow, facing me. ‘It’s been going around,’ I said vaguely, trying to sound sleepy. She did not look convinced. But she trusts me in such matters.

Friday, around noon, I got an email. ‘Shall we meet?’ it said. My messenger recognized the sender. I even had a folder dedicated to it. I deleted the mail and folder, and went offline. I thought a lot that day.

Saturday found me proactive. Attack is the best defence, isn’t that the well-used cliché? I opened my address book, randomly picked a page, it opened at P. I called the seventh number on that page. A lady picked up after three rings. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I love you,’ I said. ‘Me too,’ she replied. I felt relieved.  

Hungry Games

In a packed tent at the Winter Food Festival, I marvelled at the kinship of the people. There was no religion or colour or language that differentiated them. They grabbed vacant seats and shared space with fellow-thinkers; devoured chicken, fish, parotta, biriyani, barnacles, squid, cauliflower, peas, paneer; burped, sweated, farted; spoke with good cheer, mouth full; even the kids seemed benign. I inched closer to the counter, eager to join the gastronomic revelry.  

A lady jumped the queue, ‘Give me fish curry.’

‘Madam, please stand in the queue,’ the lady serving at the counter smiled and politely said.

‘Look, we have already started eating. Do you expect my family to have the curry after they have finished the rest of the food?’

Impeccable logic, I felt.

But, the lady standing in the queue, in front of me, protested, ‘We would also like to start eating.’

I nodded my head at that too.

The lady in need of fish curry ignored us, ‘Give me fish curry now.’

I wanted to intervene and say, ‘Give madam her fish curry. Let her family eat. We can wait.’ But then, the two ladies would have joined forces, ‘Who are you to decide that? Men and their opinions...’

The serving lady addressed the lady in front of me, ignoring the lady who had jumped the queue, ‘Madam, what would you like?’

‘Vegetable curry and pulao...’

The serving lady placed a bowl of curry in front of her.

The lady inspected the curry and asked, ‘Is that vegetable curry?’

‘Yes madam.’

‘It looks like fish curry.’

‘It is vegetable curry.’

The lady dipped her finger and tasted it, ‘It tastes like fish curry.’

‘Madam, shall I give it to her instead?’ she indicated the other lady.

‘No, I will take it.’

I wanted to tell her, ‘If vegetable curry tastes like fish curry, isn’t that good? You get both for the price of one, no?’ But then, I kept that too to myself.

Then, the serving lady asked me, ‘Sir, do you mind if serve her first?’ She indicated the lady in need of fish curry for her hungry family.

‘Of course, of course,’ I said.

She placed a bowl of curry on the table.

The lady asked, ‘Are you sure this is not vegetable curry?’

‘100% sure, just taste it.’

Then, I was next.

‘Sir, what would you like?’

‘Tapioca, fish curry and fried squid.’

‘Sorry sir, no more fish curry. That lady got the last bowl. No tapioca or squid either. That’s also over.’

I swallowed the protest within me.

‘Give me whatever you have.’ Anything to enter the world of the eaters...

The Pub Brawl

Turn left after Hotel Figaro, then right at the next crossroad and the second door is that of The Café (why is a pub called that?). There is no guard or usher at the heavy wooden door. It is a small establishment (reviews say ‘cosy’). The door opens to a small hallway with three tables. The hallway leads to the bar in the inner sanctum which is only marginally bigger. There are no stools at the bar. In the inner area, four tables crowd against the wall one arm-span from the bar. Even two at a table would have to sit sideways to avoid knocking knees (reviews could say ‘lover friendly’). Those at the tables can’t escape the large flat-screen TVs in front and back. The rest of the wall-space has framed posters of brews like Guinness (not served there). The way to the restroom is next to the bar. A whiff of pee creeps in when the restroom’s door is opened.

There is a bartender and a waiter, young men with plastic smiles and dispassionate service, polite but minimal. The manager, who has an office somewhere inside, flits in and out. A recording of an English premier league game is on one screen (ManU vs. ManCity), and Eminem is inciting trouble on the other.

At the first table, there is a man in his forties; hair peppered white, trim built giving way to fat, pleasant untroubled face; sipping draught beer (asks for Guinness, settles for Kingfisher), munching free crisps; watching the game, listening to Eminem.

The man at the second table is of that age too; dark hair, stocky, haughty, edgy, sullen; nurses a large peg of whisky; tries to catch the attention of the bartender or the waiter or the man at the first table to share a complaint; frequently turns to scowl at the crowd at the last two tables.

 There are ten youngsters at those two tables, four of them girls; mid-to-late twenties; young professionals partying at the end of a working day, celebrating bonus or promotion or anniversary, or without any particular reason. They are noisy. They have shots together, one after the other; bourbon, tequila, they know their drinks. Couples move to the hallway during breaks, sit close, talk, hug or kiss; then go back to their friends for the next round of cheer.

Eight men enter the pub. They order the couples in the hallway to join their friends. They ignore the two men at the first two tables. Seven men face the ten youngsters; their leader stands apart, behind his gang, near the first table. They take out canes from within their shirt, pants. There is hardly any space to raise an arm. The leader nods at the bartender. The bartender switches off the CCTV cameras. The waiter slips behind the bar. The manager is nowhere to be seen.

The leader is in his early thirties; medium height; round pudgy face with a wisp of a moustache; not fat but sporting a pot-belly. He stands with his feet apart, hands at his waist, his cane poised awkwardly in front (is that a phallic symbol?); stares menacingly; trying a pose of generals in battlefields (or, that of landlords doling out punishment to errant slaves?).

Apart from a superficial difference in their attire, casual formals of the professionals and the casuals of the newcomers, the two sets of young men can’t be distinguished. Some seem to be from well-off families, some from poor background but now doing ok, some nouveau riche. Their families can’t be different either; they might marry similar girls, kids might go to the same school; probably remind each other of friends or enemies they had in school. Seems a lot like ragging in college, seniors bullying juniors who will be the bullies the next year.  

The leader says that it is a shame to see such activity; disgusting to see the young who should lead us (us?) to greater riches wasting time and energy; polluting (it’s good to use that word in every context) one’s own brothers and sisters.

One of the girls (not the biggest, not the oldest either) stands in front of her cowering group and dares to defy (‘polluted your brain!’ she says).

They do not touch her (they must have orders not to touch the girls; they do look at the one sporting a daring décolletage but then all the men there, including the forty-year-olds, were guilty of that). The seven move in. They select one man (the toughest, the biggest) and cane him from all sides. The girl who challenged watches that in horror.

‘You filthy lot,’ the leader shouts. His gang of seven followers close in on the young scared men, caning, showering blows and kicks in that small space.

The man at the second table urges them on, ‘Oh yes, they have been asking for it for quite some time!’

The man at the first table finishes his beer. He stands up, the mug in his right hand. He swings his right arm freely in a wide arc and the mug of hard glass crashes against the leader’s face. The man turns and knees the surprised bloodied (broken nose, lost teeth, split lips) leader in the groin. The leader collapses, groaning, barely conscious.

His gang realizes this only after everyone else in the room. The young professional, who first bore the brunt of their caning, charges and brings down two. The other young men decide that odds are in their favour and that it is safe to save face in front of their girls and charge too. The girls join too, throwing glasses and kicks. The man at the second table tries to escape but the man at the first table blocks his path, and ends on the floor bloodiest of all.

The bartender, or the manager, calls the police. The brawl lasts till the police manage to quell the uprising. The press is also there by then.

...

Most of the newspapers had photos of the drunken unruly youngsters, especially the dishevelled girls (the décolletage got the caption ‘OMG!’). Some of them lost their jobs. Two rags referred to the leader as a social worker. He kept a low profile till the local elections. Every wall had a photo of him then, a near-martyr with a golden smile (two golden and two silver teeth actually). One journalist tried to sell the story of the uncle (a Naxal mastermind of the 60s) of the man at the first table but failed to find a buyer. Another was more successful with his story about the two men at the first two tables being lover and husband of the same woman.

Killing Lovers

 

KILLING LOVERS

CHARACTERS

Arvind, police detective

Savitri, contemporary dancer

Kumar, manager of Savitri’s dance company

Mickey (Manickam), Savitri’s personal secretary

SCENE ONE

[The living room of a posh penthouse in a high-rise: exit door on the left, near the front; vertigo-inducing French windows cover the whole back wall. At the left back end, a sole armchair faces the French windows, a table by its side.

Minimal furniture otherwise - a sofa and four straight-backed chairs in the centre demarcating the area allowed for visitors; a large worktable and chair on the right side, near the window; books, charts or plans and laptop cover the table; there is a music system and a home theatre on the right wall; no drinks cabinet, no showcase with anything personal, no photos.

A sketch of a naked girl dancing, teasing, around a lover is the only artwork on the walls, and the chair at the worktable faces that.

The door to the kitchen-dining area is at the right front end. On the left side, between the exit and the windows, there is another door leading to the bedroom(s), probably on an upper level.

Savitri is reclining on the armchair, staring blankly at the wide expanse. Mickey attends to the sound of the doorbell. Arvind and Kumar enter the room.]

KUMAR

[He walks up to Savitri who remains prone on the armchair oblivious of the visitors.]

He came to the office. He wants to talk to you... to us.

MICKEY

[To Arvind]

Please sit down.

[He indicates the sofa and chairs. Arvind remains standing. Kumar goes back to the sofa and sits. Mickey goes to Savitri’s side.]

Savitri...

[Savitri turns to him, with a start, as if brought out of a deep reverie.]

The police inspector is here.

[Savitri gets up and approaches Arvind. They stare at each other without a greeting.]

KUMAR

I too was surprised.

ARVIND

Hullo, Savitri.

SAVITRI

Arvind...

ARVIND

You remember...

SAVITRI

[Wry laugh]

Of all the crimes in all the alleys in all the world, he walks into mine...

MICKEY

[Moves to Kumar’s side and whispers]

Will someone please tell Sam which song to sing?

KUMAR

[To Mickey]

Don’t you remember Arvind?

SAVITRI

Did they have any overlap in college?

KUMAR

Ah... no, I don’t think they did. Arvind, this is Mickey alias Manickam. He was our junior in college, joined two years after Savitri and me... and that’s five years your junior, right? You must have escaped from that hell-hole before this guy made it worse.

MICKEY

[Still whispering]

Is this... the Arvind?

KUMAR

Yes, this is... the Arvind.

ARVIND

[Bitter]

Don’t make it rhyme with... the joker...

KUMAR

What a get-together!

SAVITRI

[To Arvind]

Please sit down.

[She takes a chair. Arvind sits on another facing her. Mickey hangs around uncertain.]

MICKEY

[To Arvind]

Maybe, I should leave... I guess you want to talk to them.

SAVITRI

Sit, Mickey.

[Mickey sits on the sofa, next to Kumar. Arvind laughs. Savitri turns to him.]

Yes...?

ARVIND

Nothing... just remembering old times. The lady still commands...

 [Savitri and Arvind continue with their staring match.]

Anyway, let me not waste your precious time.

KUMAR

You mentioned that you wanted to talk about Derek’s death.

MICKEY

Derek...? It’s been three months since Derek died. Why are you interested in that now?

[Arvind ignores the men and addresses Savitri.]

ARVIND

Were you involved with Derek?

SAVITRI

Involved?

ARVIND

Were you having an affair with Derek?

SAVITRI

That depends on what you mean by affair.

ARVIND

Cut out the crap, Savitri.

SAVITRI

Yes, let’s.

KUMAR

Geez! Can’t we be adults? Look, Arvind... why don’t you fill us in on some details?

MICKEY

Yeah, what’s new? He did fall from his balcony, didn’t he? Or, have you found out after three months that he didn’t fall?

[Laughs nervously but stops when Arvind turns to him]

ARVIND

You seem rather happy with his fall.

KUMAR

Don’t mind him and his big mouth. Come on, what’s up?

ARVIND

[To Kumar]

Did Derek take drugs?

KUMAR

[Hesitates, glances sideways at Savitri]

Yes... but, not an addict, just recreational use...

ARVIND

Are you sure?

[No reply from the others]

The same with you all...?

KUMAR

[Stiffly]

We don’t do drugs. You should know that about Savitri, if not us.

ARVIND

[Trying to sound more amiable]

We didn’t let it out to the media then... the forensic tests showed drugs in his system. But, it is as you say... more recreational rather than hardcore use...

MICKEY

Makes sense... he fell from his balcony under the influence of that, right?

ARVIND

At the time, that made sense. But, what doesn’t make sense is that all the others fell that way.

KUMAR

Others...?

ARVIND

Didn’t I tell you that we are looking at four deaths now?

MICKEY

Bloody hell!

KUMAR

What four...?

ARVIND

You three can’t guess that four...?

[Turns to Savitri]

Derek, Mohit, Sandy aka Sandeep, Vishal...?

SAVITRI

[Flinches]

Oh God!

MICKEY

Bloody fucking hell! Are those deaths related?

KUMAR

This is crazy! Vishal died a long time back. Mohit... two years back, at least. When did Sandy die... three, four years back?

ARVIND

True. I am not saying that we are sure these deaths are related. Also not too sure how or why it missed our attention for so long...

MICKEY

What made you dig up those cases?

ARVIND

We had a bit of luck.

[Pauses]

Recently, we bust up a minor piracy racket. Nobody even imagined that one of those lowlifes would be a connoisseur of contemporary dance.

[Turns to Savitri]

And that too, an ardent fan of years... We found a scrapbook among his collection of smut. It could be titled ‘Life & Times of Savitri’... yes, a pukka coffee-table book! I had not followed your career after leaving college...

KUMAR

[Mutters]

Hard to believe that

ARVIND

[Looks at Kumar and then turns to Savitri]

I found it very interesting reading. Right from the time you left college and joined the dance school... your first professional show. Amazing career and work....

[Pauses]

I mean it.

SAVITRI

Thanks.

ARVIND

The scrapbook reveals that you have been a very private person. No public appearances other than your dance performances. But this guy knew so much about your dance... and your dancing partners... he even kept the small notices that came in the newspapers about the accidents, what everyone thought of as suicides...

[Pauses]

It didn’t strike me at first. But then, in seven years, four dancing partners have died. That beats the average mortality rate of colleagues even among policemen... or gangsters...

[Pauses, the others remain silent]

Don’t tell me you all didn’t wonder.

[Still no response]

Derek fell from a balcony three months back. Mohit apparently jumped from a cliff into the sea twenty six months back. Sandy fell from a bridge onto the railway track below to be run over by an express train. That was four and a half years back. Vishal died three years before that. He too fell from his balcony. All deaths in the middle of the night... well after midnight... no witnesses.

[Pauses]

And, you all didn’t find it strange?

MICKEY

Well, I did think that... they fell in love... or is it fell out of love?

[Laughs, rather pleased with his joke]

KUMAR

Don’t be an idiot, Mickey!

MICKEY

Ok, let me be serious... what bloody use is that going to be!

ARVIND

[To Savitri]

So, were they in love with you?

MICKEY

Have you forgotten that that is an occupational hazard of being with her?

[Grins widely, again quite pleased]

SAVITRI

Mickey, do shut up!

MICKEY

What a bunch! Ok, ok, I won’t utter another word.

ARVIND

Well...?

SAVITRI

We were close. Their deaths did shock me.

ARVIND

That’s it? Your lover boys pop off one after another, all untimely deaths, you shed a tear and just carry on?

SAVITRI

What do you propose I should do? Wear black and go into indefinite mourning? Look, I did care for them. I did know of their drug use. I assumed it was that or...

ARVIND

Or?

SAVITRI

Suicide...

ARVIND

Were the affairs over?

SAVITRI

No.

ARVIND

Sure?

SAVITRI

I don’t know.

ARVIND

Well, if you assumed suicide, it must have been over.

SAVITRI

I didn’t assume that their lives revolved around me alone.

KUMAR

Come on, Arvind, don’t badger her. Every case need not be like yours.

ARVIND

What do you mean?

KUMAR

Nothing...

ARVIND

Go on... what did you mean by my case?

MICKEY

Didn’t you have some kind of breakdown after she dumped you in college?

[The other three stare at him threateningly]

Oh fuck! I have done it again, haven’t I? But it’s the truth, right?

ARVIND

I did not have a breakdown. I took a break to figure out whether I should go the usual route with my engineering and science degrees or whether I should do something else more meaningful.

KUMAR

It was a long break...

ARVIND

True, three years. At no time during that period did I think of suicide.

KUMAR

We just heard differently.

ARVIND

I chose the IPS at the end of that break.

KUMAR

Some consider that as suicide.

SAVITRI

[To Arvind]

Didn’t you say that you didn’t want to waste time?

ARVIND

Yes, thanks for reminding me. We are now treating the four deaths as suspicious deaths. We are not ruling out anything, not suicide, not drugs, not even murder.

MICKEY

Holy fuck! Murder... some kind of serial killer?

ARVIND

Not ruling out anything.

MICKEY

How did you get assigned to this case? With conflict of interest and all that, I would have presumed that you would be the last person to be assigned this case.

ARVIND

In fact, I was assigned because of that.

SAVITRI

What do you mean?

ARVIND

[To Savitri]

My boss decided that I would be the best person to talk to you all about these deaths... related to you. 

SAVITRI

Seems very improper...

KUMAR

[To Savitri]

The best person to make us talk...

SAVITRI

I understood that.

MICKEY

[To Arvind]

If I was your boss, I would have suspected you.

SAVITRI

[Laughs]

Mickey... now, I know why I keep you.

KUMAR

[To Arvind, indicating Mickey]

Inspector, he should be your prime suspect. Please do lock him up and throw away the keys.

ARVIND

This is just a joke for you all, is it?

SAVITRI

Come on, don’t be so stuffy. You turn up and tell us that all the men I knew were murdered, and what do you expect us to do?

ARVIND

Were those all the men you knew?

SAVITRI

Maybe, maybe not...

ARVIND

[To the two men]

Gentlemen, I would like a moment with her.

KUMAR

Come, Mickey, let’s go to the dining area.

MICKEY

[To Savitri and Arvind]

Kids, be good, ok?

[Kumar drags him by the sleeve, they exit.]

ARVIND

Now, can we talk seriously?

SAVITRI

Yes, sir.

ARVIND

[Glares]

Didn’t you suspect foul play?

SAVITRI

No.

ARVIND

Come on...

SAVITRI

I am serious. I am not a policeman. When people drop out of my life, I don’t suspect foul play.

ARVIND

Drop out?  That’s a light way of looking at lovers’ deaths.

SAVITRI

I thought you wanted no bullshitting. What do you know about my life?

[Pauses]

Yes, I am a normal girl who would like a man to stick on with her till eternity. No, I am not a normal girl who gets that. I have my dance. It is tough to balance that and personal life. I expect that’s the case with my male colleagues too. Have I thought of suicide? Not yet. Am I surprised if my colleagues or lovers think of suicide? No. What do I think of your serial murder theory? I think that’s nonsense. Phew! What a speech!

ARVIND

There is one other detail I did not mention. In all the cases, but one, we could not find any sign of foul play. The bodies were in that condition. But, in Vishal’s case, we were lucky. His body hit some low-lying wire and landed leg first, miraculously the head was not in that bad a shape.

[Savitri flinches]

Vishal’s  head bore an unexplained injury, not due to the fall, but probably caused by a blunt instrument like a stout stick. At that time, for some reason, they did not follow up on that.

[Savitri pales visibly]

Savitri, now do you believe my murder theory?

 [She nods]

Were there others?

SAVITRI

Others...?

ARVIND

Lovers...

SAVITRI

[Laughs bitterly]

Oh yes, had plenty before, during and after... all in their graves... happy?

 ARVIND

Give me a break, will you?

SAVITRI

You give me a break!

ARVIND

[Exasperated]

I just want to know if there is some jilted lover out there taking revenge.

SAVITRI

As Mickey said, none other than you!

ARVIND

Bloody Mickey!

[Stares at Savitri]

Well...?

SAVITRI

No, Arvind, there weren’t any others. After college, you were not the only one who took a break in that area. For ten years, two in college, eight after, I did not let anyone come close. Then, there was Vishal. He died. It’s true that that did not hurt me like you did.

ARVIND

I did not hurt you.

SAVITRI

I meant the end of our affair. Anyway, after Vishal, it became easier. Sandy, Mohit, Derek... to tell you the truth, I expected the end each time. Sounds silly, I know. But I do think my life is jinxed in that department.

[Gets up and walks to the worktable]

Did I think the deaths were a coincidence too many? I don’t know. When you feel jinxed, you expect to get screwed in the worst possible way every time.

ARVIND

[Gets up and walks to her]

I didn’t know that you were affected by our affair.

SAVITRI

[Laughs bitterly]

For a detective, you are clueless about too many things.

ARVIND

Savitri, I...

SAVITRI

Arvind, leave that past alone. We are not that strong.

ARVIND

[He walks around the room, stops in front of the sketch]

You kept this... never sketched after that!

[Turns to Savitri]

What about those two... Mickey and Kumar...?

SAVITRI

You must be joking!

ARVIND

You haven’t...?

SAVITRI

None of your bloody business!

ARVIND

And still, they hang around you like puppies?

SAVITRI

When I hear you talk like that, I wonder how I let you close once.

ARVIND

[Looking rather smug]

Well, it’s because I talked, thought and acted like that that we did get close.

SAVITRI

You are the pits!

ARVIND

You were too.

[They laugh]

Oh boy! I am supposed to be investigated murder and here I am laughing.

SAVITRI

Mickey would consider you normal.

ARVIND

What’s his story?

SAVITRI

Why should there be a story?

ARVIND

Being your secretary isn’t exactly the dream promised to the crème de la crème of our college.

SAVITRI

Neither being a policeman.

ARVIND

Touché... but you know my story. I chose the meaningless path.

[Bitter laugh]

Why are they wasting their lives with you?

SAVITRI

How subtle you are! Let’s get this straight. Managing my professional life is quite challenging and lucrative, for both Kumar and Mickey.

ARVIND

Yeah, yeah, I should ask if there’s some vacancy for me.

SAVITRI

Maybe, I need a bodyguard with a killer out to get me?

ARVIND

Any thoughts about who that could be?

SAVITRI

[Worried but certain]

No.

ARVIND

Tell me about Mickey. By the way, how did Manickam become Mickey?

SAVITRI

Doesn’t he resemble Mickey Rooney? He is fun. And perfect for me.

ARVIND

How did he become your toy boy?

SAVITRI

[Angry]

If you are going to be crass, you can leave.

ARVIND

I can talk to you all at the police station.

SAVITRI

Go ahead, make my day...

ARVIND

Punk...?

SAVITRI

Skunk!

ARVIND

[Laughs]

Still the same, I see. Ok, I promise to use kid gloves. This Mickey was two years junior to you in college... how did he become your personal assistant?

SAVITRI

In college, he was in our old Drama Club. He was quite good, a brilliant student too. I don’t know how or when we got close. He is a lot of fun. And he seems to know me. I don’t know, like a kid brother, maybe.

ARVIND

Fuck! You know what I used to say about Raakhee brothers.

SAVITRI

I am sure your Hindi vocabulary suits your police job. Why can’t you get it into your thick head that most men don’t think like you?

ARVIND

Ok, ok! So, from college bro to personal assistant...?

SAVITRI

It took me five years or so after college to start my own act. He was with some IT firm. We used to keep in touch. When I talked of going professional, he asked for the job.

ARVIND

You didn’t find that odd?

SAVITRI

At first, I did. But then later it didn’t seem so. We started functioning like a well-oiled machine. A good team...

ARVIND

Did it get personal?

SAVITRI

You mean sexual...?

ARVIND

Yes.

SAVITRI

None of your business!

ARVIND

Fuck!

SAVITRI

Do you think I have talked about you to anyone?

ARVIND

That’s what I am asking. Is he to you like I was?

SAVITRI

As I said, none of your bloody business!

[They glare.]

ARVIND

Fine... how about Kumar? Was he with your dance company right from the start?

SAVITRI

No, he joined only after I became successful, when I needed someone of his calibre. He is a superb manager. And he, like Mickey, understands and appreciates my dance.

ARVIND

When did he join?

SAVITRI

About seven to eight years back.

ARVIND

Was it before or after Vishal’s death?

SAVITRI

You are barking up the wrong tree.

ARVIND

Just answer my question.

SAVITRI

Before, I think. Yes, Vishal and I did some great shows together. And Kumar was instrumental in that success.

ARVIND

I vaguely remember Kumar from our college days. He was your batch, right?

[Savitri nods]

Correct me if I am wrong. But, he was kind of weird then, wasn’t he?

SAVITRI

[Laughs]

Arvind, everyone and anyone who wasn’t like us was weird then. It took us a while to realize that we were the weird ones and in the minority, too.

ARVIND

Not just that, Savitri. I remember him as a monk.

SAVITRI

He is still like that.

ARVIND

You two... no...?

SAVITRI

[Threateningly]

Arvind...

ARVIND

Is he asexual? Somehow I picture him in some Masonic club, taking blood-oaths with fellow-brothers, self-bloody-disciplined and all that.

SAVITRI

[Laughs]

You have an overactive imagination. I am sure he is quite normal.

ARVIND

Hmm, that’s what bothers me, possibly normal, visibly abnormal. Is he married?

SAVITRI

No.

ARVIND

Mickey neither?

[Savitri nods]

Is that a job requirement?

SAVITRI

I think we are done here.

[Savitri walks to the door leading to the dining area and summons the other two men. The three walk back to the sitting area.]

Well, do you have anything to ask them? If not, I would like to do some work.

ARVIND

You go ahead and work. I would like to talk to them.

[He takes a seat. Savitri glares at him before leaving the men. She sits at her work table, with her back to the men. Kumar and Mickey sit on the sofa again.]

We have some evidence that seems to indicate that these four deaths were suspicious deaths, not suicides but murder.

MICKEY

Bloody hell...

[Stops when Arvind raises a hand to indicate that he would like no interruptions.]

ARVIND

Have you two noticed any suspicious characters or any correspondence, fan mail, anything that seemed dangerous?

[Kumar and Mickey shake their heads]

Can you recollect anything out of the ordinary at the time of these deaths?

KUMAR

I don’t think so. It’s been quite some time. How about you, Mickey?

MICKEY

[First looks at Arvind to check if he has permission to speak]

No, nothing.

ARVIND

Do you keep diaries?

KUMAR

Professional...?

[Arvind nods]

Of course!

[Mickey too nods]

ARVIND

Do you have the diaries with you?

MICKEY

My diaries are in the office.

KUMAR

Mine too.

ARVIND

You mean the office on the ground floor, right? Can you please get the diaries?

MICKEY

I will get it.

[He gets up. Kumar hands him some keys and mutters ‘thanks, it’s in the bottom drawer’. Mickey leaves.]

ARVIND

Kumar, do you handle security and such matters?

KUMAR

Yes, for dance programmes, the usual stuff with organizers. We have not bothered about security otherwise.

ARVIND

It might be advisable to pay attention to that.

KUMAR

Not sure if she will agree.

ARVIND

I am sure you can convince her.

[Pauses]

Mickey has an apartment here, right?

[Kumar nods.]

Do you also live in this complex?

KUMAR

No. I live near the Bypass – the Seaview apartments.

ARVIND

Is that the one on Kanaka Hill?

[Kumar nods. Savitri raises her head from her work. She gets up and joins them.]

How long have you lived there?

KUMAR

Forever, it seems. It’s my parents’. They shifted to our village about ten years back.

ARVIND

Do you live alone?

 [Kumar nods. Arvind turns to Savitri who is staring at him coldly.]

Ah, Savitri, sorry to trouble you, but can I have a glass of water.

[Savitri does not budge. Kumar gets up mumbling, ‘I’ll get it.’ Arvind speaks after Kumar has left the room.]

Madam still has her boys fetch for her...

SAVITRI

Look, badger me as much as you like. But, leave my staff alone, will you?

ARVIND

Sandy lived in the same Seaview Apartments, and fell in front of a train from a bridge within walking distance from there. And, remember Mohit’s case? He fell from a cliff close to Kanaka Hill.

[Savitri shrugs]

And, Madam still prefers to go about with blinkers?

SAVITRI

[Snaps]

Better that than being blind.

[Pauses]

Tell me, why are you so keen to pin those murders on us?

ARVIND

Nothing personal, I assure you.

[Kumar and Mickey enter at the same time. Arvind accepts the glass from Kumar and sips water. Mickey gives Kumar his set of diaries.]

MICKEY

I have brought only the diaries for those four years.

ARVIND

Thank you. Let’s start with the latest.

[He mumbles a date.]

MICKEY

Hmm, we had a party that night to celebrate a successful tour in Germany. It went on till one, at least. Derek was sloshed. Kumar dropped him off. Savitri and I came back here, and we attended to some business before retiring around three.

KUMAR

That sounds right. I have noted only the party in my diary. I don’t note down the other, personal, details. At what time did Derek fall?

ARVIND

[He scribbles some notes, then replies.]

Before three am.

[He mumbles the next date.]

MICKEY

That is a Sunday. But we got together that evening to celebrate Kumar’s birthday.

KUMAR

It’s a blank entry in my diary, sorry. God, we got pissed drunk that night. I can’t even remember if we had food. I crashed early, after Savitri and Mohit left...

MICKEY

Rascal, you finished off the chicken I made, and made helluva mess too. Mohit left early, around half past ten, as soon as Kumar started throwing up. Savitri and I left around midnight after clearing up the place. She came to my apartment for a coffee.

ARVIND

Coffee and late hours seem to be the norm with you two.

MICKEY

Nothing else, I swear on my mother’s arse.

[The others stare at him. He raises both hands, mutters ‘Schtump!’ Arvind looks at his notes and mumbles the next date.]

MICKEY

That’s middle of Monsoon, our off-season, just a normal day in office. Kumar and I were in the office most of the day; Savitri was here researching and at the end of the day, we came here to chat with her; got some take-away food. We did not meet Sandy that day. We should have, I guess. He had some plans with some friend.

[Kumar nods]

ARVIND

Which friend?

[The other three shrug. Arvind turns to Savitri.]

You have no idea?

[Savitri shakes her head]

Weren’t you two an item then?

[Savitri rolls her eyes and refuses to respond. Arvind continues to stare at her. Then, he mumbles the last date.]

KUMAR

No official engagement noted in mine. Do you remember that day? Seems like decades back. Of course, we were stunned to hear about Vishal’s death the next day.

MICKEY

Savitri met a doctor that afternoon. Kumar and Vishal were supposed to go for some music program but didn’t go.

KUMAR

Why didn’t I go with him?

MICKEY

How should I know? That’s all I have noted.

ARVIND

[To Mickey]

How about you?

MICKEY

I went with Savitri to that doctor.

[Looks in his diary]

We went for a movie after that. Which one I wonder... strange... I have not noted that down.

ARVIND

[To Savitri]

Doctor... what for?

SAVITRI

None of your business!

MICKEY

Geez, you two! Physiotherapist... she sprained her ankle.

KUMAR

I remember that. Was it on that day? Oh yes... you went limping to Vishal’s parents’ place for the wake.

SAVITRI

[To Arvind]

Anything else you need to know? We too have work to do, you know.

ARVIND

Thank you for your time.

[He gets up. Kumar and Mickey also mumble that they have ‘Work in office’ and leave with Arvind. Savitri goes back to her arm-chair, stares out.]

SCENE TWO

[Next day, around noon, in the same living room, Savitri lies on the armchair, wearing a nightgown, hair in disarray, her distress apparent.

The doorbell rings. She ignores it for a while before getting up. She opens the door. A courier gives her an envelope. She goes to her table and reaches for a letter opener.

The door bell rings again. She places the envelope in a drawer and goes back to open the door. Arvind enters behind her.]

ARVIND

I wanted to come earlier.

[Savitri moves to the French windows. Her shoulders are shaking.]

I am so sorry, Savitri. You must have had a horrid night. I wanted to come here and inform you rather than call you with that news. But I couldn’t leave the scene and then this morning, there was so much to do, search their places, you know.

[Savitri turns to face him.]

What am I blabbering?

SAVITRI

Why?

ARVIND

Wish I knew! No clue whatsoever.

SAVITRI

When you called at three am, you said that it had just happened. Were you there?

ARVIND

Yes. Not in the apartment, but outside.

SAVITRI

How come?

ARVIND

After I left here yesterday, I placed you all under surveillance. 

SAVITRI

[Stares angrily]

Me too...?

ARVIND

Of course, I thought you faced the most danger.

SAVITRI

But, how did you know it was him?

ARVIND

I did not. I just had the suspicion that it could be someone close to you.

SAVITRI

What happened?

ARVIND

I had people watching the three of you. Around two, my men informed me that Mickey was leaving his apartment here and going towards Kumar’s place on Kanaka Hill. I joined the men there. I should have stopped him but then, on what grounds could I do that? The lights came on in Kumar’s apartment. We were watching from the stairway in the opposite apartment building. But the curtains obstructed our view. There was the sound of a fight. Then, the lights went off. It was pitch black last night. Two figures came out onto the balcony. We couldn’t make out what was happening. Then, before we could respond, one fell from the balcony... or pushed over. The other person looked down, I shouted, he looked towards me, and then followed the other. Bloody hell it was! 

SAVITRI

But, who fell first? Was it Mickey or Kumar?

ARVIND

Forensic is trying to figure out. But the two were lying a little apart and there seems to be no way to make out the two deaths. The second person did not even cry or shout, fell like a dead weight, no flailing of arms or legs, no panic on the way down... God! One cold-blooded person that must be to fall to death like the dead...

[Savitri sits down on her armchair. She puts her head down on her knees and sobs. Arvind watches her. He reaches out to comfort her but holds himself back. For a long while, he watches her.]

Savitri, if there’s anything I...

[Savitri raises her head to look at him. She shakes her head. Arvind nods and leaves. Savitri reclines in the armchair and cries for a while.

 She gets up and retrieves the envelope from the drawer. She opens the envelope and takes out a memory card. She fits it in a USB adapter and plugs it onto the TV.

Mickey comes on the screen.]

MICKEY

Hi there, Savitri!

I might be in jail when you get this. Or better, dead. I have not yet decided. This should be with you tomorrow morning, well after the deed’s done.

Savitri, I have had a lovely time being your friend. Your friend...

[He laughs.]

Ok, I guess it is safe for me to say that I wanted to be more than your friend. You can’t thrash me black and blue for saying that now.

[He laughs again.]

I have to do it, Savitri. And I have to do it before it’s too late. Today or tomorrow or someday soon, Kumar will remember and he will figure it out. Unfortunately, he was not unconscious on his birthday. He will remember that I alone stayed back to clean the place and that you had left with Mohit at half past ten. 

He will also remember that you showed up with a sprained leg only after Vishal’s death and not before. I am sure that that doctor, the physiotherapist, won’t remember when he fixed your ankle but Kumar will remember.

I was actually surprised when he couldn’t recollect those details when we were talking to the Arvind.

But then, he didn’t have to think about that like you or I, right?

Well, this is all that I can do for you.

I guessed... no, knew... what you were up to. But I don’t know why.

I do not know what happened to you in college when you had to break off with Arvind. Maybe, you had to choose him or your career. Maybe, you could not forgive yourself for discarding that love. Maybe, the other loves just did not match up to that love. Maybe, that’s why you ended each one that way. I do not know.

I hope you will stop. I would love to think that my love for you will make you stop. Maybe not... maybe, the love is still not good enough.

Forgive me for taking Kumar. I know that he too is your good friend.

I have to deposit this parcel with the courier, along with other official stuff. Then, I will wait till dark.

Please destroy this. Let the story end here.