||CHAPTER 34||
《¤》
┊V A R U N┊
Manohar Deewan was a card shark.
What his effervescent personality festooned to absolute perfection was his gambling alter-ego. He waved a thick finger over the extra spade of 8, and immediately the croupier pulled out another ace from the deck and placed it perpendicularly. A calculative grin dimpled his buoyant face, and he turned towards me with a flourish.
"You asked me why I don't invest like a shark?" Mr. Deewan began while the dealer tossed the rest of us a card each. "Well, Varun, here's an investment lesson the casinos of Las Vegas taught me."
Symbolically, he tapped the betting chips, a stack of 3 alongside 2. So far in the game, he had not insured any of the bets like the third player next to him. Needless to say, Manohar Deewan's quirky decision didn't fail him. Having observed his last move, I couldn't help but poke at the man. "That gambling is similar to daylight casinos—less frowned upon and practically non-existent?"
He scoffed good naturedly, flicking his thick cigar in dry humor. "Wheel of fortune, wheel of fate. What dealers aren't telling you is that, if the stakes are six to five instead of three to two, it's not a bet. It's a fùçķìñģ bait."
The laughter came naturally. He was a conversationalist, a bloody good one at that. I waved off my hand in the dealing, pretty confident I wouldn't bust. Blackjack was the only game so far that I had let myself delve into. The croupier wasn't done with his card tricks, brandishing what appeared to be a string of cards until our attention was drawn back to the one that was facedown on his end. One ludic reveal, and Manohar Deewan emerged as the winner, yet again.
Ice clinked against the glass as I raised it to meet his in good cheer. Against the backdrop of a jingling arcade of slot machines and several roulette wheels spinning the savings of men friskingly addicted to the mute felts and loud, neon gizmos. Manohar Deewan pulled himself out after three not entirely consecutive wins. The giant chandeliers guided us towards The Ether, which, contrary to its name, was very much of a closed-sky bar on the upper level of the Casino deck.
Wired lights ran over the banisters, bright blue and red complementing the dark of the night. Soft, jazz music floated in the air, the singer holding stage at one corner of the bar. Trombones and saxophones added the silky appeal.
It wasn't very crowded up here. Lazy, intoxicated conversations—that was how I spotted her finally. Hair let loose, in an off-white, sleeveless satin dress, nursing a drink on the counter, attention rapturously focused on my over-excited employee, I couldn't tell if it was the music or Esha's speech that was making her smile.
Her uncle was the first to interrupt the ladies, diving in for a hug that she complied easily into. A stiff round of Esha's introduction later, she turned back to him. "Chachu, you look like you've had a nice day! Iss casino ko bhi loot liya kya?"
"Yuhi nahi mujhe Jack of all trades bulatey hai beta," he patted her back. BlackJack apparently was his favorite sport. "Zindagi mein maestro banne ke liye mistry banna padta hai."
Arvika let out a tinkering giggle, slipping her gaze towards mine. Not that I had been searching for her, but if her intent was to avoid me throughout the day, now was a testing time for her. Reddened but laced with confidence, hints of her shyness buried under the whispers of a sly smile. "Esha agrees with that thought, don't you Esha?" Her palm pressed upon our infamous journalist who looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Chachu, aapko pata hai, Esha has her own weekly blog section now in BizNest. Varun is surely rewarding her laborious efforts."
My suspicions circled her intention, but I had a slight idea of where this was headed. "Esha is talented in avenues she's working for."
"Sir's too kind," was her uncharacteristically shy response. "I'm toh very glad that MR and Varun sir are guiding me."
"I'll certainly read your next blog," Manohar Deewan pointed his finger at her with a jovial flair. "Well done beta. What's it called, again?"
"Weekends With Esha," she replied quickly. "WWE for short."
"Quite an apt name for the bomb she's gonna drop next weekend," Arvika's wink sealed a confirmation of some kind of conspiracy. "Anyways, Chachu, Dad aapko dhundh rahein thhe. The entire fam's planning in his suite."
Not long after Mr. Deewan had left with the promise of another round of BlackJack did Esha's phone light up blaring a disturbing pop of Korean music. BTS or something, Esha and Girish had bonded over this new trend of music. A contemplative frown led her to speak out, "I... kinda need to go. Work calls."
And wasn't that the joke of the century. Arvika's composure didn't falter as she left the table, her attention now flouncing over to the singer commanding the stage. "Her voice is ethereal. Are you into Jazz, Varun? I think I kinda like it."
Latika was, a crazy fan. Her mother used to host huge collections. And after her death, old vinyl records were all that she treasured the most. Afternoons, dusks to nightfall, sultry days in the summers and chilly evenings in the winters, we had spent together listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Abbey Lincoln. Drunk, sometimes in music, other times in each other. A time when my fears weren't solely mine either. And hers, resolved with tender kisses and a bottle of whiskey stolen from my father's cabinet.
"I listen to it occasionally. What were you trying to do with Esha?"
"Just talking. Hum middle school mein saath mein thhe. Always nice to see tattle-tales making a career out of their gossiping tendencies."
"Sweet. What bomb did you implant in her head now?"
Her eye had an inebriated sparkle in them tonight. A smile, not quite reaching them, curbed as she canted the stem of her glass to finish her drink. "So... you can corner my secretary to gruel insider info out of her, but I cannot speak with one of my juniors who just happens to be your employee without being interrogated?"
Clearly Mia got paid satisfactorily. She was trained to dodge questions and be vociferous about her loyalty. But I had a mission too—Renuka's hunches were seldom wrong. "I'm just doing my work, Arvika."
"And we struck a deal, Varun. I honored it, didn't I?" Her hand now cased mine instinctively, until a distant look crossed her face and made her retract immediately. "Unless you think that's not enough. Of course it isn't."
"That's not what I meant. Besides,"—and I hated to admit this—, "she's practically sired to you."
Her casual shrug was non-confirmatory. "You say that as if it's a bad thing."
Considering she was supposed to be the loose thread, yeah. It looked fùçķìñģ gloomy for me. "It's quite rare."
"Do you want a drink, Varun?" She changed the topic abruptly. "Quite rude of me to not ask before. How about a Black Russian? I think you'll like it."
She ordered it, on the rocks. Strong vodka, with the smell of Kahlúa coffee, served in an old fashioned lowball glass arrived at our table a few minutes later. "Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?"
And just like that, that obscure shade of unsurity washed away with a flirtatious bite of her lower lip. "I don't need to get you drunk for that."
What charged the air, who the fùçķ knows? Sugar crystals sprinkled the rim of her glass, her lips probably were sweetened. Our gazes stayed connected even as I grunted at the acrid fizz of the vodka. "The fùçk is this? Too strong." And bitter. Impressively bitter. Needed more. Of her, of the concoction.
"Punjabi ho na? You can hold your liquor."
I pushed the drink towards her. "Tum bhi ho na? Why don't you taste it?"
Of course I wasn't prepared for what came next—her casually strolling around the high table to stand close to me, wet, swollen lips leaving a chaste imprint right below my jaw, nimble fingers grazing their way up, slipping a stiff card inside the pocket of my shirt.
Her breath smelled fruity, I could almost taste her. "Maybe I will."
And maybe she could feel the thud in my ribs overpowering the thud in my forehead, for when she patted the key-card against my chest, she boldly leaned in again, this time planting her moistened lips against my bristled cheek, the corner of my mouth—and then slipped away before I could even feel the smooth satin clinging to her body.
She wasn't done teasing me yet, her sportive grin attested to the fact that her advances weren't accidental. "And you know what? Maybe the aftertaste won't be as bitter."
I didn't quite register the next classic that the band performed, because as she exited the bar with a sway in her hips, and I finished the drink with haste a little more rushed than necessary, I realized that she was right.
The aftertaste wasn't bitter, it was addictive.
_____
Namoshtaii!
The weeks are barely registering in my mind, I feel like it's still the first week of April and have an entire month to study and then all of a sudden the calendar glares out that barely half a month is left for the exams and that this in fact is not an April Fool's prank. Anyhoo, the cribbing about academics and exams will be endless, really have to drain energy productively now.
And by that, I also mean to say that I am super excited to be collaborating with one of my most favorite authors and best friend TripuWrites. We had been hunting for an opportunity like this for literally so long, and now that we can finally do this, you will find me jumping up and down at the slightest mention of this. Aditi is a gold mine in every sense, and Bhabra is a master-piece. It has changed the way we view literary fiction even on Wattpad, and I cannot begin to express how proud I am of her. So if you haven't read it yet, binge read it this weekend because the bonus chapter of Bhabra goes out on Sunday. She has already done wonders with it, and it is killing me to stop myself from spilling out the details. If Nakul Kumar isn't bait enough, I don't know what to tell you. The only hint I can give you now is that it is set in the early 2000's, and I cannot wait for this Sunday. I love you so much, Aditi!
Also adding to this energy, we're gearing up for another #diljannachahega! It is a character interview session, the last time we did this was in the first book. Feels like the entire ensemble is excited as well lol. So go ahead and comment all the questions you have for the characters- any character for that matter. The questions can be of any kind, relating or not relating to the story. Either make an inline comment here, or use #diljannachahega so that I don't miss out on your question!
In other news, Kimayaa and I did another collab for a Bengali cover on the occasion of Poila Baisakh (The Bengali New Year). I literally look up to her, and have been so since the very first time I read B2B series and fell in love with her writing. Thank you so much for shelling time out of your busy schedule, Ruchi! I love you so much, you're an inspiration!
How crazy has your week been? What's the one thing that brightened up your day?
Read, vote, comment, promote!
~chaashnee