That is when I first accepted taking the war to his turf by bringing in weapons of mess destruction. I had picked up the butter knife and fork from the Rekha`s mess that we call kitchen. The sharp negotiators that Rajans are, I only gave up my fork and didn`t reveal the butter knife and the bottle of Harpic.
Don’t understand a thing? Don’t get the context? Well…you are reading part three of a series and looks like you haven’t read the first & the second parts. Please read When I was the villain – Part 1 and When I was the villain – Part 2 before you proceed any further.
As soon as I entered his territory, I knew I was going to have a tough time. He had strategically placed evidence of Priya`s love for him – mushy greeting cards on the television and decorative hangings on the walls. Here is a sample to give you an idea of how big a show off he was: Just below a 15-inch-by-20-inch wall hanging with “I love you” embroidered on it, there was a 40-inch-by-60-inch chart paper saying: “Gifted by Priya”.
I hadn`t known that the girl had fallen completely for this bloke`s smooth talk I somehow needed to save her. Now, my job was going to be even more difficult.
“Let us go to the terrace,” my enemy-number-one said.
“Sure,” I said. Though I had said it I wasn`t so sure. What if he had organized for a pretty girl to jump at me as soon as I stepped onto the terrace, and also arranged for photographers from newspapers like The Indian Express, The Hindu, The Statesman, Pioneer, Times of India and many more to catch me in compromising position with the lady and put them on their newspaper`s front pages with headlines like “Top Blogger caught with pants down”, Ouchmytoe`s Chairman chairs a paid sex worker”, “Ouch my f*&^ing toe, says Jammy” and the most dreaded of them all, “Who is THIS girl, asks blogger`s wife”.
Had I known that the duel would be held in a terrace, I would have practiced jumping from a third storied houses without my shoes, or at least I would have learnt wrappling – the art of sliding down ropes.
Just when I was surveying the only exit – a door to the staircase – Rahul asked if I would be terribly upset if he left the house for 10 minutes or so to make a STD call. I said what any Rajan would have said: “Sure.” Those were the days when a single call on your mobile cost no less than Rs 7….and this guy had to make an STD. While on the topic, can STDs be transmitted thro` STDs?
As soon as he left, I checked under the mattress spread on the terrace for wires and detonators. Once this check was over, I pulled out the ‘poison tester` which one of my uncles had got me from West Indies and tested the Pepsi he had left for me. It tested negative for Aconite and the other popular poisons. Unlike people, popular poisons are also effective poisons.
After vigorous testing, I looked around for other exits and found a ladder against one of the side walls. I decided to use it in case of emergencies – leaving nothing to chance, I even tried the ladder once. It was a dress rehearsal of sorts because I went down the ladder and came back again. The wooden ladder could well have been a corporate ladder…it was easy to go down but difficult to come up.
I was panting when I heard Rahul climbing the stairs. As he entered, I said “Welcome, dear Rahul.” The way I said it made it clear to all present that I was in command of the situation.
On the way back, he had picked up two beers. The fact that he didn`t ask me if I preferred beer over whiskey or vice-versa didn`t bother me much. After all, we Rajans are known for our adaptability.
As he looked around for the beer opener, I tried to seize the upper hand in conversation by saying: “Maybe you should have asked Tendulkar to come over.” He didn`t get the joke. If you are also an MT, here is the complete explanation: I had asked him to bring along Tendulkar because he was/is an opener.
We chatted for a while, during which he gained the conversational upper hand. That`s when Priya called. How much I wish 9884391229 (number changed to avoid angry, blank calls from Ouchmytoe readers) was my mobile number for then I would have picked up the call and spoken to Priya. Alas, it was his and I was now listening to one side of the conversation. This is how it went –
Rahul: I have a guest with me.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: You have probably seen him.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: A short, round-about guy. Looks like a cross between Nana Patekar and Johnny Lever.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: Dances to the name Jammy. Heard of him?
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: Ohh…yeah. The same guy we were laughing about the other day.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: Yeah…yeah…the cooler guy.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: We are just having a beer. Yeah…he leaves the minute he finishes it. Promise.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: Aree…promise yaar. Trust me.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: Ok…I will call to confirm. In fact, don`t wait up for this stupid little thing. Will send you an SMS as soon as he leaves.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: Some day you have to tell me why you hate him so much.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: Sure sweetheart. Love you too.
Priya: blah blah blah
Rahul: Bye…good night.
Priya: blah blah blah
A good trait about the Rajans is that we can smile even in adversity. A trait we develop early. My mother says I developed it as early as two months…when I would shit in my cloth napkin and smile as if nothing happened.
Anyway, as I was saying….I smiled at Rahul once he was done with the call.
He said: “That was Priya. She was having trouble remembering your face.” He had victory written all over his face.
I maintained my smile (though I did wonder if I could salvage some pride by jumping down the terrace). We Rajans love a good love story with a happy ending. I asked him: “So, are you going to marry her?”
“Well, if you insist…I can marry her as a favor to you.” He started smiling even before he finished his sentence.
Phew! That was easy. I didn`t tell Rahul how glad I was. I finished my beer in two minutes flat and left his apartment a contended man for I had succeeded in saving Priya`s dignity and love life.
I still wonder if Rahul sent Priya the SMS, that fateful night.
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