Her Revenge And Other Stories From Bombay: Odd Tales From Bombay And Bangalore, #4

By Manik Bal

With this diverse collection of short stories, Manik Bal continues to explore the bizarre in the mundane, and the mundane in the bizarre. 

 

Exploring seemingly ordinary characters as a caretaker of a shared accommodation, a construction supervisor, and an out of job stay at home husband, every story weaves a heady cocktail of ordinary and unbelievable. 

 

The characters cheat each other with glee, but also display loyalty, even at a possible cost of their lives. The narrative shows the danger of the destructive ire of a spurned partner, yet shows the power of silent, long term marital love. 

 

The book is dedicated to the city of Mumbai, or Bombay as it was called. Several stories take place when the city was called Bombay, and the internet and cell phone were not very common. 

 

"Her Revenge, and Other Stories from Bombay" joins the previous three books in the series Odd Tales From Bombay and Bangalore. Please read the other books if you like this one. Each one tries to be unique while sharing the same DNA. 

 

Ride the rollercoaster and don't forget to switch off the lights when you fall asleep. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nivant Publishing
• Release date: May 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224569595

Book preview

1

THE GHOSTS OF OUR PAST

You need to unshackle your brain at times, just to see beyond the fog that is clouding it. It is very much like the wipers on the glass that clear the rainwater to allow you to see the cars approaching you. I was never meant to be a perfect guy, but it seemed to me that life is overtaking me and my boyish enthusiasm for things. It was just yesterday that I felt like the one on the watchtower, looking at everyone with a healthy portion of contempt.

It was a sleepy afternoon and a cozy road. I could see the raindrops fall in the puddle where a few pups were playing. The leaves in the water seemed to be the matter of contention. One of the pups was ferocious the way it was attacking the other, more docile one. It reminded me of Rakesh. Rakesh was not very docile, but he had to always take the bullying of Samat when we went out to the pubs on weekends.

Rakesh worked in a bank that had a plush office near Kala Ghoda. You could see the famous Rhythm House building from his office. He was not a big music buff, so the proximity to the music shop was a wasted opportunity. It could have been any of us, and we could have bought stuff endlessly breaking the bank. Rakesh liked books more than music, and movies more than books.

The pups seemed to take a break, and I heard a familiar voice.

Nitin?

I turned around and greeted her. At one point in time, we would have hugged, but not now.

What are you doing here?

What are you doing here?

I came to meet a client in the next building. India visit after a long time.

I am supposed to be meeting a friend of mine.

Who?

You don’t know him.

Not from our college?

No, from my previous company.

And then we were hit by silence.

Madhu. Madhurima. Madhukutty. Mad. Mads. Maddy. She had many names, and many moods to suit the many names. She had grey eyes that looked blue if you did not observe carefully. She liked green. She was wearing a green salwar suit just to prove the point. She was beautiful, and she was once my girlfriend.

Care for a cup of coffee?

She liked coffee much more than tea. Coffee with cream biscuits. Our favorite thing was to eat one biscuit together, ending up in a deep, passionate kiss.

I thought you were waiting for someone.

Yes, but it is pretty late and I have an excuse even if he turns up.

Well, I am free, so I am okay with coffee.

We went inside. The place had fabulous decor. It was the first time I was visiting the place. It had eight tables, each of them was next to a window. Some facing the quaint street behind the building, some facing the main entrance. There was a large open space at the centre. I could not imagine anyone doing that in the current times with the sky high real estate rates.

You and your calculations!

She seemed to read my mind even today. There were times when we used to complete each other’s sentences. She did that more often for my sentences than I did for hers. I was a bad guesser of what went on in other people’s mind. When she told me that we need to spend some time away from each other, I did not have a clue she would say that on that day. It was all going fine, according to me. Every couple had their differences, right? Our small skirmishes were not enough for us to separate.

What calculations?

Come on! Just now, you were calculating the cost of the empty space at the center of this shop.

She was a little wet. The rain had caught everyone by surprise. There was a drop of rain on her forehead. I wanted to drink that water just like the old times. I was thirsty, just like the times when we went to Superb Juice Shop and asked for watermelon juice. We often did one by two, which meant we bought one unit of the juice and asked them to give it in two glasses so that each of us can drink half of the portion. She was the one who liked watermelon juice. I was more of a grape juice guy. She always had the last word when our opinions differed from each other.

I was not calculating anything. It would be a stupid guy who engages in calculations when a beautiful lady is walking next to him.

Who is the beautiful lady? I don’t see any.

Both of us would be in our early thirties. She was younger than me by two months. It is said that women look older at an earlier age. I did not see any evidence of that while looking at her. The only thing missing was the carefree look she had when we got drunk in the nights and walked on empty streets. I was shit scared thinking that she was my responsibility, but when we met two small time thieves, my illusion was shattered. She was a karate black belt who could not only protect herself, but protected weaklings like me as well.

Do you practice Karate nowadays?

What kind of a question is that?

I knew she was passionate about Karate, and maybe I should not have asked her that, but you can not direct your impulses, and this was just one more example of that.

We got a cozy corner with a view of the backside of the building. It had several trees and a nice green lawn. Some old bungalows populated that area, and it looked as if we were at a hill station. There were puddles there as well, but no pups to fight in the puddles and make themselves dirty. Rain was slowly subsiding, but it would take a long time for the puddles to dry up.

Two cups of filter coffee with a pack of cream biscuits, please.

Oh, you still remember that?

What kind of a question is that?

It was my turn to be smart now. She gave me very few opportunities to feel smart in her company. I am not sure how she got interested in me, and how she decided that we have had enough. She did all those things on her own. If I had to even decide which shirt to buy, I used to ask her. I realized that I did not know anything about her life after she left me. Some people told me she had shifted to Dubai, working for a multinational bank. I had heard from one of our common friends that she was dating some guy who worked in the entertainment industry. I had not kept in touch with her, and she had not kept in touch with me.

Nothing much happened in my life after we stopped seeing each other.

Again the mystical mind reading. Was it a gift that worked with everyone, or just me?

Does this work with everyone or just me?

What kind of a question is that?

She had gotten back to me. What else did I expect?

Nothing much happened in my life as well.

I was not sure if I should tell her about my marriage with Namrata, and the subsequent divorce.

I heard about you and Namrata, and I am sorry about that.

Oh, you keep in touch with my life?

Of course. I am the biggest gossip monger you know, right?

That sentence. In fact, that may be the sentence which started off our eventual separation. It was one a.m. We were partying at Shin’s house, and I was really drunk. Madhu never got drunk. I was spouting gyan left, right, and center. All about the world economics, the relevance of leftist philosophy in the current times, the unfairness of it all, and everything that was wrong with capitalism.

Why do you work in a capitalistic system then? Tanu retorted.

What do you mean? What has that got to do with the discussion?

You mean your life choices and your beliefs have nothing to do with each other? You can be a CEO of a company earning million dollars, and can be a communist?

That’s too extreme. I sit somewhere in the middle.

The conversation got really heated after that and I think Madhu tried to change the direction of the conversation.

Guys, did you hear about Shirin and Das’s breakup?

Why should I hear about some stupid gossip about some stupid buggers I don’t care about? I was drunk and angry, the combination that took my life downhill.

They are not stupid buggers. They are our classmates and were in our group till sometime back. And it is not gossip to talk about some event like that? She was a little taken aback by my aggressive stance.

I was not in a mood to reconcile. I wanted to keep fighting with those guys regarding capitalism and that bullshit, and Madhu was not letting me do it. I changed my track and attacked Madhu.

I am not the gossip guy. I find it sick to gossip about people who are not with us.

Don’t tell me that. We have gossiped many times, and it is a relief from a serious conversation that is going bad. She was looking hurt, and wanted to get out of the conversation. I was drunk and silly, and did not realize where I was going.

Yes, of course. You are the biggest gossip monger I have seen. I am ashamed ……. I do not remember what I said after that. Madhu had started crying, and I went on. And she walked off after some time. And she walked out after some days.

That sentence. How can one be so stupid?

I do not know anything about you after we lost touch. I am just surprised you know about Namrata and me. That was my meek attempt to say sorry, and to make sure she did not walk out of the room at that very instant.

I keep meeting people, and they invariably talk about you.

I keep meeting people, and they avoid your topic.

Nothing much has happened in my life, anyway. I fast tracked my career path with the additional time in my life. I worked sixteen hours a day, six days a week. I was promoted thrice in five years, and became the youngest CFO. No time for love, relationship, marriage or anything else.

Good to hear about your success. I was not that successful. I was disoriented after you left me. I needed another Madhu in my life. And Namrata walked in. Most people who knew me knew that she was not the right one for me. I did not know. Or I did not want to know. She was my ointment for the pain your leaving had caused me.

Her face had turned red. She did not expect such a direct conversation about the past. She never liked those direct confrontations. She avoided them at any cost, sometimes by getting into gossip, sometimes by telling jokes, and sometimes by just kissing me to make sure I kept shut. But, this time she wanted to talk.

The pain was mutual. Work was my ointment. I could not stay alone for those years. The memories haunted me continuously. It was colors that triggered them. Red reminded me of your red shirt when we first met. Blue reminded me of the color of the water near Carter Road when we went for those long drives. Yellow reminded me of the farsan you kept gobbling when you were drunk and still wanted to have some more whiskey. To avoid looking at colors, I looked at balance sheets, accounts statements, tax returns, but it worked only for a while.

What about that guy in the entertainment industry? You were supposed to be seeing him.

"Oh, so who is the gossip monger now? His name was Anil, and he worked with a film studio, a client of ours. They were in deep shit, and I helped them raise some money by getting into a private placement. We spent a lot of time together, and became very good friends. But it was all work. He had a steady girlfriend who joined