Nikhil finally got a word in. 'Lucky escape.'
I said coldly, 'Can you please not use that word around me?' The two of them laughed.
I asked Khoda pointedly, 'What're you doing here?'
He raised an eyebrow. 'There's a lump of dirt above your lip,' he said.
Zoravar snickered. 'That's her nose.'
'Zoravar,' I said, through gritted teeth. 'Get lost.'
'Okay,' he said and loped away, stopping halfway up the veranda steps to turn around and shout, in a man-to-man way that made me want to hit him, 'Hey, Nikhil, you want a drink or something?'
'Later, thanks,' Khoda called back and turned around to look at me as I sat there, surreptitiously cleaning the mud off my face. 'You know, this new look of yours will take some getting used to.'
I glowered at him, knowing full well that with all my hair gone, my cheeks looked huger than ever. I had these mad little corkscrew curls all over my head and looked pretty much like a wheatish golliwog. My stupid tee shirt with 'Happy Girl!' written down the front, my grubby cargo shorts revealing unmoisturized legs with dirt-encrusted knees, and sockless and therefore slightly stinky red sneakers didn't help. Besides, I knew that that whole unconcerned attitude of Zoravar's had been an act. He had accelerated rapidly as he made for the house, and I knew that by now he would have gathered the whole clan together and that they would all be watching us and giggling up a storm. I looked towards the house - and all the genteel curtained windows looked like blatantly unblinking eyes to me.
Scowling at Nikhil, I said belligerently, 'Who's telling you to look at me?'
He grinned, completely unaffected by this graceless remark and said, 'What were you thinking? That being a Goddess makes you immune to fire?'
'What are you thinking?' I retorted instantly. 'That winning a World Cup makes it okay for you to wander around the countryside being rude to people? What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be in Bombay riding through town on an open bus or something?'
'Are you trying to get rid of me, Zoya?'
I looked up, surprised. His lips were playful, but there was this unsure look in his eyes which, after all these days of waiting for him to call me, was like balm to my broken heart (and, I must admit, to my battered ego). The Raktdantini flexed to life in my veins.
'Maybe,' I said, with a light, soft laugh.
His eyes blazed suddenly, he leaned forward and said, his voice like silk. 'Yes or no?'
I shrugged. 'Uff...no, okay?'I said crossly.
He folded his arms across his chest. 'Lokey told me what happened at your shoot.'
Okay. So maybe that was good news. And, of course, I wanted to ask him if he believed what Zoravar and I did, that Jogpal had been out to get him. But I didn't want to talk to him nicely yet. In fact, at that moment, when I looked at him and remembered how even Sonali from Sonali's Gupshup had gushed about the Laphroiagh brown of his eyes in yesterday's Mid-day, I didn't want to talk to him nicely ever.
Words tumbled out of my mouth, anyhow.
'Oh, so now that someone you know well has vouched for me, I'm good enough to be spoken to again? Is that it?'
He said, 'Zoya - '
I put up one hand, 'Hang on, okay? You sent me a stinky sms, you said mean things about me on TV, you have children scattered all over the globe, you don't call me once since you get back, and now that your fat friend Lokey has "exonerated me of all charges" you show up here willing to forgive and forget?'
'It isn't like that at all,' he said, urgently. 'Of course Vikram did get a guilt attack and tell me what had happened between the two of you.... I didn't tell him about us, you know. He happened to see us by the pool that night, that's all.'
I gave a shaky laugh. 'Oh so now you like me again because of what Vikram-the-groper said? Is that it? So now supposing tomorrow someone else says -'
'I don't need to be here, you know,' he said cutting me short. 'And if I remember it correctly, it was you who left.'
I sat down abruptly on the garden swing and started swinging, the hinges chwing-chwonging madly. He sat down on the swing beside me. 'Zoya, please, what underhand motives could I possibly have now?'
'How do I know?' I muttered as I continued to swing. 'You're touring South Africa in ten days' time I hear.... Maybe you'll need me there.'
'Shut up,' he said abruptly.
His voice had a nasty edge to it. I shut up.
'You have no idea what it was like, do you? I mean, you called and said you weren't coming, and honestly, I was okay with that. I was sick and tired of being heckled in the media about you and I figured, at least I'll finally know if I can do anything on my own or not. I called a team meeting and told the boys and they all got completely hysterical of course, Harry specially. Wes had to pep-talk him all night. But then Jogpal made that statement to the press, and forgive me, but I believed it. I thought you'd...'
'Gone over to the dark side,' I supplied sulkily.
'Well, yes,' he admitted. 'There were all these pictures of you in some Goddess get-up. I told you not to do that stupid ad!'
'Well, I didn't, did I?' I said hotly.
He said, 'Well, anyway, it was all for the best because it made the boys so mad they went out and played their hearts out.'
'So they did win because of me,' I couldn't resist pointing out, rather childishly, I'll admit.
He said, 'Zoya, you know as well as I do that if we'd won with you there you'd always have thought me a bit of a loser. And a user too.'
He was right, of course. But then, he mostly always was. It was the most irritating thing about him.
'And what about your little Willie?' I demanded. 'Shouldn't you be thinking about his happiness here?'
He looked at me blankly. 'My little Willie?'
I glared at him in exasperation. 'Your little William Nicholas. Your baby boy.'
He said, grinning a little, 'Oh. For a while there I got all excited thinking you were talking dirty to me.'
I didn't laugh. This was important to me. He must have sensed that because he said, very gently, 'Zoya, that baby boy is not my baby boy.'
I opened my mouth to argue but he didn't let me: 'And you're just going to have to take my word on that. Like I'm taking your word on the fact that you weren't holding out for more money as Jogpal Lohia claimed you were.'
I snorted in a way that reminded even me of my father but I didn't say anything more.
Nikhil said, 'Look, I humoured Jogpal and let him bring you to Australia because I wanted to see more of you. I figured the lucky theory would come a cropper during some match or the other. Then I could tell you I didn't give a damn about your luckiness and that you would be so devastated and so far from home, you'd fall gratefully into my arms.'
'What a romantic little storyline,' I told him. 'Me, the pathetic damsel in distress, you the knight in shining blue.'
'Yes, but then you turned into some kind of rampant Goddess. Everything spun madly out of control.'
'The Gods always think they can control the Raktdantini,' I told him loftily. 'But they can't.'
He choked. 'The who?' he asked.
'The Raktdantini,' I told him. 'She, of the bloodstained teeth. She is not a mere tool or a pawn.'
'Uh, okay,' he said.
I shook a finger under his nose, driving the point home: 'She is not Anybody's Creature!' and added, 'Thanks, Eppa,' because Eppa had materialized suddenly at our side, with two mugs of Boost on a tray.
Nikhil started nervously, stood up and said, 'Thank you, thank you...you must be Anita...uh, I mean Eppa.'
She looked him up and down with her beady black eyes and then said kindly, 'You vant to stay for dinner? I vill make isspecial Balls Curry and rice. You like Balls Curry?'
'Uh...' Nikhil said uneasily, not looking so world-beating any more as he reeled under the twin onslaught of the Raktdantini and the Balls Curry. 'Sure, why not?'
Eppa nodded approvingly. 'Gud! Now drink yor Boost before malai comzes on top.'
&n
bsp; And then she swept indoors magnificently.
Nikhil said, in a stunned sort of voice, 'You were saying?'
'Drink your milk,' I said wickedly.
As he obediently drained the cup, I said, 'Do you know your eyes are exactly the same colour as Boost powder with Advanced Energy Boosters?'
'What?' he said dazedly, then made a valiant attempt at pulling himself together. 'We'd got to the bit where you were saying you were not Anybody's Creature.'
'That's right!' I nodded vigorously, slurping my Boost. 'So I realized that I had a duty to Indian cricket which was bigger than just eating breakfast with you guys before every match.'
'You're doing it again,' he said, smiling a little, and putting his mug down on the grass, where Meeku started licking up the dregs eagerly.
'What?' I asked.
'Making me feel humble,' he replied.
I shrugged uncomfortably even though my cheeks glowed with pleasure. 'Don't be silly,' I said.
He spoke, and the warmth in his voice made my toes curl involuntarily inside my stinky red sneakers. 'That was a really gutsy thing to do, Zoya. Unselfish too. You must have lost out on crores in advertising contracts.'
'I know,' I said sadly. 'Lokey had a fit.'
'Hey,' he said lightly. 'My crores are your crores.'
I gave a shaky laugh, my heart beating madly, 'Yeah, right,' I said, putting a hand up to tuck my hair behind my ear and then remembered I didn't have any.
'I'm serious,' he said. 'What do you think I've come here for?'
I said, 'Um...for Balls Curry and rice?'
He said impatiently, 'Be serious. Are you upset about what I said on TV about us not needing you?'
I said carelessly, 'Oh, did you say that? I wasn't watching.'
'Bullshit,' he grinned. 'The entire country was watching. My masterful captaining had all the girls going weak at the knees.'
I almost choked.
He added, rather wryly, 'I hope you've noticed that I took care not to park in your esteemed Gajju Chacha's slot.'
Which made me giggle.
Which made his eyes glitter.
'Now that,' he leaned closer and murmured into my ear, 'is a very sexy giggle. In fact, some people may even go so far as to say that is a oh-please-take-me-home-and-turn-me-from-a-bud-into-a-flower giggle.'
He looked down at me, his eyes teasing. 'Am I right or what?'
I got on to my toes and kissed him - an open, Boost-warm kiss, in the madhumalati-scented garden, as a barely smothered, many-lunged cheer rose from the house behind us.
'You're right,' I admitted happily.
***
Epilogue
Sonali's Gupshup
And so our chocolate browniekins Nikhil Khoda turned out to be a total chhuppa rustam, sweeties... romancing little Zoya under the frangipani trees in Australia, or so a reliable little kukkaburra birdie tells me. Lucky little girl, but let's see how long it lasts. I wouldn't order my shaadi-ka-joda, or whatever it is you Rajasthan rurals wear to get married in, just yet, if I were you, Zoya, because if your horrible new haircut doesn't put off your honhaar hottie, your agent's recent activities certainly will. Yes, my honeycakes, Zoya's agent, Lokendar Chugh, has been hobnobbing with any number of IPL team owners, including two dimpled Bollywood superstars and an overweight business tycoon, all of whom are desperate to get their hands on a lucky charm before the season starts again, no matter how avaricious she may be...
***
Acknowledgements
This book would not have been possible without the encouragement, help and blatant lifting of idiosyncrasies of so many people. Vibha Rishi, who put the thought of a human lucky charm into my head in the first place. Sankar Rajan, whom I miss at work, almost everyday. Eppa, my Best Female Friend Forever - well she's mine even though she may not deign to think me hers.
My long suffering First Readers (I've written three more pages! Read read read! Whadyuthink, Good? Huh?! Huh?!) Shalini Beri, Alok Lal, Papa, Nika and (most often) Choku.
The conversation in this book is fully inspired by the moronic one-liners (who will know?!) and idiotic what-if scenarios (what if you had to sleep with a really ugly gross person of the opposite gender or a really hot person of the same gender or the Nazis would shoot you dead? Which would you pick? Whaaaat? You pevert) continually debated by the entire (past and present) gang at JWT, Delhi.
My friend Ritu Khoda, whose surname I borrowed, my friend Swati, whose hair I borrowed, my friend Jo, whose life experiences I borrowed. And Torun, who believed in Zoya, all the way.
Rohit Ohri, who humoured me and gave me leave to write. Puneeta Roy who put me on to Tarun Tejpal and Tarun, who very sweetly recommended me to HarperCollins. Nandita, Karthika and Sunaina, who were kind but firm and actually took me seriously!
All the clients whose brands I've worked on, thank you for giving me brilliant opportunities (which I mess up more often than not) every single day.
My little creative team in Delhi: We're the best!
Special thanks to Khurram, Manish, Gurdish and Saurabh whose shapely posteriors may or may not grace the cover page, Rohit Chawla and Saurabh Das, long-suffering photographers, Anu Ramaswamy, who designed the rocking cover, and Harjeet 'Bob' Singh, the rock on which JWT is built.
The motley crew-that-grew at 18, RR and has now settled all over the world - I love you all - East or West, Barbarians are the best!
Margaret and Niranjan Alva - Mamma, always loving and always worrying. And Dadda - constantly trumpeting my crummy achievements, introducing me to clueless gora VVIPs with, My daughter-in-law, she wrote Yeh-Dil-Maange-More you know!
Nicky-Pria, Manu-Jo and Babu-Meera, who are always there for Choku-Anuja.
Revti and Pushpa Raman - Papa, whom I grow to be more like, everyday. And Mummy, who was horrified by the language in the book but loyally said, 'It's nice, beta.'
My favourite Usha mausi in whose beautiful home I wrote a major chunk.
Panki, Juicy and Chandra - Eat dhool, you guys, Choku sabse cool hai!
Mini, Ruhi and Nandu - Hum Chauhan sisters hain hi itni beautiful aur talented!
All my nephews and nieces, especially 'Nikhil' and 'Zoya'.
The Lord Jesus Christ, in whose peace we dwell.
And of course Choku and Nik-Tar-Da, who are everything to me.
***
About the Author
Anuja Chauhan was born in Meerut, the youngest of four sisters, and went to school in Meerut, Delhi and Melbourne. She has worked in advertising for over fourteen years and has unleashed lines like Yeh Dil Maange More, Mera Number Kab Aayega, Nothing Official About It and Oye Bubbly upon the unsuspecting public. She lives in Gurgaon with her husband, Niret Alva, and their three children, Niharika, Nayantara and Daivik John.
This is her first attempt at writing anything longer than sixty seconds.
***
First published in India in 2008 by
HarperCollins Publishers India
a joint venture with
The India Today Group
Copyright (c) Anuja Chauhan 2008
ISBN: 978-81-7223-748-6
Epub Edition (c) JULY 2012 ISBN: 9789350294543
4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3
Anuja Chauhan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
This is a work of fiction and all characters and incidents described in this book are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under The Copyright Act, 1957. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishe
rs India.
Cover design: Anupama Ramaswamy
The Zoya Factor Page 42
