An aircraft engine thundered to life nearby, and we looked around for the plane. The opulence that this trip promised to bring into our lives had bowled us over long before our actual journey began. None of us had ever been on a chartered flight, and now we were mere minutes away from that very experience. Needless to say, expectations were sky-high.
Talk about anti-climaxes!
Our host led us through the lone building in the vicinity to the sprawling tarmac on the other side. There, sitting pretty in white and magenta, was a wasp of a plane.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I proudly present our most airworthy craft: the Czech-made Let L-410 Turbolet. This stunning beauty is ideal for a party of ten.
‘Mind you, she is as sturdy as she is breath-taking. She can land on short makeshift runways and operate in extreme temperatures ranging from -50 to +50 degrees centigrade. An aeroplane made for Indian conditions, wouldn’t you agree?’ our captain asked with pride.
Chirag was the only person in our group unperturbed by the sight of the machine that was to ferry us to our destination. He cheered on seeing the miniature craft. Everyone else, including me, was assessing the small carrier with disbelief. This was the smallest plane I had laid eyes on in my entire life. Its compact frame surprised even Piyush.
Much to my disgust, the others adjusted to the plane’s size within seconds. I had greater difficulty imagining a trip in the ‘breath-taking’ craft, but I put on a brave front and joined the jingbang in their excited chatter about the journey ahead. I had to live up to my reputation of being an iron lady.
We clambered aboard and quickly fastened our seatbelts. I had the eerie sense of being inside a plush yet cramped closet. Four rows of three seats each, two to the right of the aisle and one to the left, accounted for the seating arrangement. Two more seats, facing each other at the rear end, were for the cabin crew. A mini-kitchenette and a trolley also occupied the back. In front, a thin fibre wall with a door separated the cockpit from the main body of the plane. The interiors were cream with magenta linen.
I had booked this leg of the journey. When I discovered the price for transporting ten people approximately 500 km via private plane, I thought I had hit the jackpot. Now I knew why this trip had been so inexpensive! As he boarded, Piyush’s eyes bored accusingly into me. Is this a one-way trip, they mocked me. That’s why the price was so low! I averted my gaze and forced Sukhbir, who was ahead of him in the queue, to sit beside me so that Piyush would have to sit elsewhere.
Soon the plane taxied to the runway. In all fairness, the take-off proved to be a smooth affair, except for my nerves. As the plane lifted off, Sukhbir caught hold of my hands, startling me. I stared at him in shock. He merely smiled, unclenched my fists and said something. I blinked. Seeing my fright, he repeated himself.
‘Ms Bose, this is a good plane. Trust me. I read about it, and all its reviews were excellent.’
Sukhbir was talking! Not only that, he was holding my hands and reassuring me! This trip was already throwing up some shocking surprises. I smiled with gratitude, not daring to utter a word. Role reversal, I thought ironically.
‘We are now flying over our destination, Cumbojee Island.’ The captain’s voice broke into my tense meditation. ‘You can see the island’s serene beaches from your windows. We will land shortly. The temperature on the ground is twenty-eight degrees, and it promises to be a warm night. Thank you for flying with us, and we hope to have the honour again soon.’
‘Crew to seats,’ his assistant called out, and I geared up for the landing, thanking my stars that the ordeal was about to end.
I sneaked a peek at the window to my right and caught my breath. Despite the darkness, the white beach glowed like a luminous necklace, clean and serene. A few lights here and there showed coconut palms scattered around the beach. Beyond the white sands, darkness spread as far as the eye could see. There must have been a mild breeze because the massive leaves of the coconut palms were swaying in a soothing slow dance.
Mesmerised, I forgot to be afraid. Not for long, though. Soon we were gliding closer to the earth, and my fears returned to squeeze my heart. My hands turned cold. I had read somewhere that maximum crashes among small planes occurred during landing or take-off. Would our pilot put us down safely?
With a slight jolt, we landed. The backward thrust from braking threw me hard against my seat. We raced forward despite the brakes. Oh God, after all this, were we going to overshoot the runway?
Chapter 2
Miraculously, the plane slowed, and the captain announced our arrival. I opened my eyes.
‘Shit!’ I muttered. When had I shut them? Sukhbir threw a smug smile at me. I ignored him with fierce determination. Normal human beings feared flying in small aeroplanes, I told myself. How would he know? He was the opposite of normal!
Upon deplaning we were ushered into the heart-warming company of the resort owner, Mr Akhil Bhandari. Piyush greeted his old friend with a bear hug. They had been at school together. After introductions, we proceeded to the hotel’s reception where our welcome drinks awaited us.
Retiring to a quiet corner of the plush lounge, I sipped the tender coconut milk straight from the coconut, and all the stress of the journey evaporated. The lobby was part of the resort’s modern main building. We were to stay in the Jade Wing: a vintage bungalow built by the island’s former royal owners. Battery-operated vehicles that resembled golf carts took us there.
Tucked away behind a hill, invisible from the central block, the Jade Wing’s secluded location offered immense privacy. The sound of the waves breaking on the shore told us we were mere metres from the beach. Behind us, the tall hillside formed a protective wall. We were promised breakfast with a view of a waterfall on the rock face.
On another side, a grove of coconut palms stretched up to a cliff that jutted into the Arabian Sea. A dive off the cliff was a quick way to say hello to one’s maker, but it was a much-favoured tourist destination on the island. On the fourth side, we learnt, was a marsh infested with snakes and vermin. That zone was off limits to guests. Our eagerness to explore the island grew with each update.
An hour and a half ago, the prospect of taking off from India’s mainland in a tiny plane had overwhelmed me. Now here I was on Cumbojee Island, tucked away in a far corner of the Lakshadweep archipelago, hundreds of miles away from anywhere. With topography to rival any holiday destination in the world, the possibility of this turning into an unforgettable vacation kept growing.
I bit my lower lip and decided Piyush deserved a special thank you for the choice. Several naughty ideas flashed across my mind and I had trouble hiding my smile. He caught my look and his face lit up in anticipation.
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At Piyush’s request, we agreed to meet in half an hour for dinner and drinks. The bungalow’s dining room was a banquet hall with its own linen, cutlery, and furnishings, all of which bore the royal insignia. A few imperial recipes acquired by the resort’s resourceful chef added to the fine-dining experience.
The first course was the sumptuous chatti patiris, a baked dish with spiced meat placed between layers of soft egg-dipped rice pancakes. Resembling lasagna and made with fish caught off the island, the finger-licking delicacy set the tone for what was to follow.
Next came lame-sounding chicken biriyani, made with kaima rice and spices tossed in coconut oil, just as it used to be in the erstwhile majestic Arakkal household. One spoonful was enough to know that there was nothing mundane about the offering! Accompaniments to the first two rounds were coconut-coriander chutney, fish fingers, stir-fried mussels, raitha, and prawn pickle. Sangiovese was the wine of choice for the evening.
We were already stuffed and overwhelmed by the rich flavours ambushing our taste buds when the chef himself came over to oversee the service during dessert—pinjanathappam topped with muttamala. Even after a zillion attempts none of us could pronounce the name, but oh, what a revelation the dish was. Sweet egg-white pudding garnished with spring
y noodles made of egg yolk and sugar! He told us the ingredients only after each of us had polished off second and third helpings of the delicacy. Who would have thought the humble egg could taste so yum!
I ate more in that one meal than I had all week.
At the end of the evening, Piyush informed us that we were to start the next day at 6:00 a.m. A unanimous roar of protests arose, and he grinned boyishly at us.
‘Trust me, IndeGeners,’ he said. ‘You will love what I have planned for tomorrow. Waking early will be well worth the trouble.’
Unconvinced and groaning, forgetting the feast we had savoured moments before, we drifted off to our rooms grumbling and wondering if we were on holiday or at a military camp. Six o’ clock was the middle of the night in this heaven.
Later, after I had showered and changed into my nightdress, I unlocked the connecting door to Piyush’s room and found it already unlocked from his side. I peeped in and saw him busy on his laptop, too engrossed in his work to notice me. Leaving the door open, I moved away without disturbing him and went to bed. Exhausted after the long day, I needed rest. He must have joined me later because when I woke at five the next morning, he was sound asleep beside me.
Smiling at his ruffled look, I slipped out of bed without disturbing him and headed to the loo. When I returned, the bed was empty. I found him shaving in his room. He was whistling a cheerful tune; his happiness so infectious that I found myself grinning as I listened. I examined the clothes he had laid out for the day and went to find matching ones in my wardrobe. As I slipped into an identical pair of three-fourths, a sleeveless cotton top, and a shrug, I felt almost silly—but it also made me all fluttery and happy inside. So I did it anyway.
While I fiddled with my makeup and jewellery, he made our morning cuppa—coffee for me, tea for him. Outside, the night sky was yet to make way for first light, so we enjoyed our hot drinks sitting in the room while talking about everyday things. He refused to tell me his plans for the day, and I let him have his way. He was excited and eager to maintain the suspense. His obvious enjoyment melted my heart.
He left at the time of assembly while I checked myself in the mirror one last time before grabbing a jacket on my way out. The others dribbled in one after the other in various stages of wakefulness. I had to smile at the picture they presented. Sukhbir was as immaculate as ever, fresh and ready for the day. Chirag, who turned up in mismatched clothes, was the exact opposite. He was in a grumpy mood and kept rubbing his eyes to keep them open.
◆◆◆
Piyush kept a straight face despite the comical display and greeted everyone. Instructing us to follow, he set off—on foot. I stared at his receding back, stunned. He knew I hated walking. Despite this, he had planned to start the first day of our dream holiday with a walk! I was furious.
Outside, hints of warm sunlight were replacing the cool night. Piyush headed straight for the coconut palms. I noticed a neat and well-laid road passing through the grove. We could have driven to the cliff without difficulty, but he had made us trek! This irritated me even more.
On either side, coconut trees swayed in the gentle breeze. We hiked up the deserted trail with its steep incline for a long time in the semi-darkness of the early morning. Huffing and puffing, and cursing Piyush for choosing to begin the day by making me feel miserable, I trudged along with the tail-enders of our group.
Close to 6:30 a.m. he stopped. We were on a rocky cliff on the other side of the coconut grove—a barren surface where not even cacti grew. Here, he found himself a rock and sat. The others explored the small area wondering what was special about the place.
Hearing waves crashing onto the rocks below us, we peeped over the edge of the cliff. A steep rock face glared back at us. Satisfied that we had checked out everything, we turned our attention to Piyush. He was sitting there gazing at the sea, ignoring our explorations.
We followed his gaze as a visual treat unfolded right before our eyes. The pale sky brightened, and a pink and purple horizon merged into the teal blue ocean while an orange ball glided upwards into the sky. We sat open-mouthed, mesmerised by the surreal sight. Chirag clapped his hands, breaking the spell and reminding us of our phones. The cameras flicked on and soon everyone was shooting selfies, portraits, and videos.
Piyush had arranged for a professional photographer for our benefit. I made sure that Piyush and I got a picture together, just the two of us. By the time all the excitement died down, the sun was high above us shining in real earnest, and other people had joined us. A bunch of them set up their gear while one person among them came forward to speak to us.
‘Mr Piyush has entrusted me with the responsibility of helping each of you with the next activity. Does anyone know what we are planning to do here today?’ he asked.
‘No!’ we roared at him in excited anticipation.
‘How does bungee jumping sound?’
Before he could complete the sentence, our joyful whoops drowned his voice. My very first bungee jump, I realised. Around me, everyone was ooh-aahing at the opportunity. He waited for us to settle down before explaining the process. Soon, everybody was ready for the jump.
Chirag wanted to go first, but Piyush was reluctant to let him plunge over the edge of the cliff before somebody else had tried it. We all agreed with his concern for Chirag’s well-being. As a compromise, we drew lots. Chirag was second, and he was happy enough.
As I leapt off the edge of the cliff, almost a hundred feet off the ground, a combination of fear and abandonment engulfed me. The land slipping away from under my feet terrified me, but the accompanying adrenalin rush made me feel like a bird soaring high, free, and powerful. The mixture of emotions gushing through me made the experience so exhilarating, I was screaming with joy and fright at the same time without being truly conscious of it.
Once everybody had had a turn at the heart-stopping dive, we turned our attention to a more mundane activity—breakfast. We were all famished. A minibus was waiting to transport us back to the Jade Wing, and we set off, this time along the road that we had seen earlier. The winding path around the hill was longer than our walking trail but strewn with scenic views. We stopped at each photo opportunity and posed for pictures. It was 9:00 a.m. when we reached the resort
◆◆◆
Lunch was a barbeque on the beach where we had spent a lovely morning water skiing. It was way past 2:00 p.m. when we finally sank our teeth into our food. Our day’s activities had made us ravenous; I attacked my food hungrily and found that I ate twice as much as I normally did. My breakfast too had been twice as large. One week at this resort and I would also be twice as large, I reckoned as I chowed down remorselessly. The seafood was fresh and cooked perfectly.
After lunch, we stretched out under wide, multi-coloured umbrellas on the beach. Within minutes I was fast asleep, oblivious to even the gentle waves lapping a few feet from where I lay.
I woke when Piyush shook me gently. His smiling face was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. His boyish grin accompanied by the mischievous glint in his eyes stirred a yearning deep inside me. My immediate instinct was to reach out and pull him down to me. Sensing the direction of my thoughts, he tilted his head, indicating we had company. I hastily found my bearings and resisted my urge with immense physical effort.
‘Okay, IndeGeners, gather around me,’ Piyush shouted as he moved away from me. Everyone complied.
‘Do you know what’s on the sea bed?’ he asked.
‘Sand’, ‘fish’, ‘plants’. Our unimaginative answers amused him.
‘Let’s go take a look and see if we find any of these things, all right?’
‘Yes,’ we roared in unison this time.
We were going snorkelling in the shallow Angria Bank on the northernmost boundary of the Lakshadweep Islands, of which Cumbojee was a part. I listened to the announcement in utter disbelief. First bungee jumping, then water skiing, and now snorkelling! Piyush had gift-wrapped all my wishes into one beautiful holiday.
I found it impossible to decide if I was happier at the prospect of snorkelling after dreaming about it for years or at the realisation that Piyush loved me beyond my wildest expectations.
Our time in the cool blue waters sped by too fast for our liking. We postponed our departure twice until daylight faded away completely. The sun had set, and we really could not stay out there any longer. With great reluctance, we headed back, exhausted and content. A strange feeling, as though we had had a preview of paradise, descended on me.
◆◆◆
When we arrived, the resort staff served us mocktails and finger foods, making me realise I was starving. I dug into the food, helping myself to liberal amounts of everything on offer. Then we returned to our rooms taking the cobbled footpath. This time I was happy to walk. Our rooms were a few hundred metres away, and somehow the island’s rustic beauty had melted my heart. Ambling along and soaking in the island’s atmosphere seemed the right thing to do. I let the others get ahead of me and trailed at the end, reliving everything I had done that day.
Everybody on this trip was a winner, but they had not become champions without a struggle. Each of them had been a ‘difficult’ acquisition in many ways. Yet, somehow, they had all settled in and become ‘The Best Fit’ for their chosen roles. However strenuous the journey had been, I was grateful that all our misadventures and experiments had borne positive results.
Back in my room, Piyush was in the mood for a quickie. Even after our exhausting day, he had the energy for sex. It was flattering. So, we made love—hot and urgent, as time was of the essence. Later, we lay in each other’s arms, breathing heavily, sated. Neither spoke. Words were unnecessary.
The Murder Suspect Page 2
