Fear Is the Key

by Juggi Bhasin

  ‘Early evening, he let me out. I came out without a tear smearing my face or a complaint. I had changed. That, my friend, is my story. I wish I was afraid of something or someone. It would be normal, would it not?’

  Rahul stared at Usman in shocked silence. He asked him in a whisper.

  ‘For a man like you, it would not take much to gut a man or a woman like a fish, would it?’

  Usman stared at the empty pitcher on the table and the mess of peanuts and pieces of chicken kebab. He raised his head, and the look in his eyes chilled Rahul to the depths of his soul. He was smiling strangely as the white of his eyes was more visible than his pupils. Rahul could barely hear him when he said, ‘Janab Hyder Ali, do you expect me to answer your question merely after a few pitchers of free beer?’

  CHAPTER 19

  Rahul took a Zuber on his way back home from the beer bar. Something about Usman disturbed him. What could a free spirit like Simone have in common with such a man? It struck him that his understanding of human behaviour was skin-deep at best. But was it the attraction of the body that had pushed Simone towards Usman? He rebuked himself for doubting her. But his unease after meeting Usman did not settle down. He looked out of the window. The lights appeared diffused in the smog. At night, the sounds of the city were dulled, almost incoherent. As a man of technology, he had made a career of simplifying and solving issues. But there was nothing simple about human behaviour and its compulsions. He thought he knew Simone well. But then what was she doing hanging out with lowlifes like Usman, Fredo and a cabbie?

  The night of vanishing colours dulled his brain. It was the kind of night that would be attractive only to two sets of people: those taking someone else’s life or their own.

  By the time he reached home and opened the door to his apartment, a dull headache had seized him. He took an aspirin and, unable to sleep, switched on the television and surfed channels. He sat there for an hour without really watching anything in particular. He dozed off on the Big Boy chair and woke up on hearing a noise in the kitchen. There was something familiar about it. It was as if someone was operating a mechanical clapboard. He went to the kitchen, half expecting the plastic blinds outside the kitchen window to be open. But the window was securely shut. He again heard the noise, but this time it came from his bedroom. The noise was steadily rising in pitch. It was like a metronome hammering a beat inside his skull. He raced to the bedroom, but the room was soaked in silence. The clickety noise began again, and this time, it originated from the closet next to the kitchen. He came back and flung it open, but there was nothing inside. An old, broken-down racing bike stared back at him. A trail of sweat originated from his forehead and travelled down.

  He was suddenly seized with panic. He rushed to switch on all the lights in the house. The sound had settled into a dull beat, and he could no longer identify where it was coming from. It seemed to have spread all over the house. By now, he was bathed in sweat and had collapsed on the chair, forcefully shutting his ears with his hands. The noise went through his skull to his brain, and he began to hyperventilate. He was almost sure he had a heart attack coming on. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the noise stopped. The apartment was once again shrouded in silence. Rahul carefully removed his hands, half expecting the sound to start up again. He looked around wildly, but nothing had changed. He sat still and, after a while, he began to doubt whether he had heard anything at all.

  He began to shake. He knew he needed help. He was losing it. He called up Suhel. It was close to 1 a.m.

  ‘Shit, man, can you come over fast? There’s all kinds of weird stuff happening. I think I might be having a heart attack.’

  Suhel moved fast, and in less than an hour, Rahul was wheeled into a private hospital and plugged to a machine that checked his vital signs, blood pressure and electro-cardio impulses. The cardiologist concluded his tests by early morning.

  ‘Your vital signs are good, Mr Abhyankar. Your heart is fit. You probably suffered what we in common parlance call an anxiety attack. It mimics the features of a heart attack, but it is not the same. If you want, we can keep you under observation for a day or two. Your choice, really.’

  ‘No, thanks, Doc,’ said Rahul, sitting up in bed as a nurse removed the wiring that connected him to the machine. ‘I have to deal with this some other way.’

  Suhel drove Rahul back to his bachelor pad and fixed up breakfast for both of them.

  ‘How’s office?’ asked Rahul between nibbles of toast and sips of orange juice.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ answered Suhel, closing the microwave. ‘Things are under control. We have the IPO launch next week, and hopefully, it will go through like a dream.’

  ‘Do you want me to put in time at office?’

  ‘Only if you want to. Honestly, I think you are in no shape to do that. You need help, buddy, professional help. This is the second scare you have given me.’

  ‘I am not going to a shrink if that is what you mean.’

  Suhel sipped on his mug of steaming coffee and kept his silence. Both men helped themselves to some oatmeal. Suddenly, Rahul pushed away his bowl, and his head rested on the back of the chair.

  ‘I am so fucking tired. I can’t deal with this shit any more. I can’t, I just can’t . . .’

  Suhel got up and led him to the bedroom. He rearranged the pillows on the bed and tucked him into a comforter.

  ‘You need to sleep, Rahul. I get that you are driven by whatever you are looking for, but you can only walk along the edge that far. You are standing on it not on your feet but on a toe. You will tip over, my friend, unless I pull you back. For starters, you will take this sleeping pill no questions asked. It will knock you out for a few hours. That should do you some good. I will meet you in the evening with solutions.’

  ‘Thank you, Mama,’ answered Rahul. ‘What would I do without you? While you are at it, sing me a lullaby so I can sleep.’

  ‘I might bring someone with me in the evening for that,’ replied Suhel with a concerned look on his face. ‘Happy dreaming till then.’

  Rahul accepted the pill and closed his eyes gratefully. He drifted into deep sleep almost instantly.

  He woke up in the evening feeling as if he had slept for a century. His head had cleared up and he felt an unbelievable lightness around his shoulders. His mouth felt dry and he looked around for a glass of water. He nearly fell off his bed when he saw a woman sitting on an armchair at the far end of the room, legs crossed, looking at him with interest. A pad rested on her lap with a ballpoint pen poised halfway in the air.

  She wore a western ensemble: a smart blue coat with an open-necked silk shirt. Her tight, figure-hugging skirt came up to her knees and showed off her smooth legs to advantage. A string of pearls around her neck indicated a successful corporate pedigree. A blunt haircut highlighted her high cheekbones and reminded him of an enigmatic looking Fräulein he had seen in a world cinema movie. Her coal-black eyes were watchful, and she was not afraid to sport a flaming red lipstick, which stood out in sharp contrast with her milky white complexion.

  She offered no explanation as to how and why she had come into the room. He could not decide whether to be polite or rude. He ended up asking weakly, ‘Excuse me, who are you?’

  She looked at him and smiled. She took her time taking down a note on her pad and then put it aside to answer him.

  ‘My name is Tanya Sehgal. I am the shrink your friend Suhel made a brief mention of earlier. I hope you will not think of me as being too forward. I decided to bring my own couch to you instead of the other way around.’

  CHAPTER 20

  Rahul found himself at a loss of what to say and how to deal with the situation. Part of him cursed Suhel for pushing him into a corner. Another part of him could not deny that the woman intrigued him. It was not like this with Simone. She was a master at understanding the subtext in all emotional issues. She would take care of all such situations for both of them. Being a technologist, he was happiest when ask
ed for solutions to numerical, financial or practical problems. For any outstanding issues that buzzed with an emotional ringtone, he would turn to Simone for help. But she was gone, and he was forced to make fresh tracks.

  ‘So?’ he asked Tanya.

  ‘So, what?’ said Tanya with a smile.

  ‘So, how did you enter the picture? You can’t be here out of the goodness of your heart.’

  ‘Correct. Your case intrigued me. No, don’t jump. I will confess. Suhel briefed me about you. I am keen to take you on as a client because it is not every day that you get a chance to deal with perhaps the most well-known, handsome innovator of a unique industry. Besides, Suhel has paid me well in advance to take you on.’

  Rahul propped up a pillow behind his back and looked at her with interest. ‘So, now the two of you decide for me.’

  ‘That would be one way to look at it. The other way would be that someone who cares about you has taken an initiative.’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ remarked Rahul dryly. ‘Suhel is the new Miss Simone in my life.’

  Tanya laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. Rahul did not know what to make of her.

  ‘So, you come highly recommended?’ he asked her.

  ‘Without a doubt, Mr Abhyankar. You can Google me. I have a master’s degree in both psychology and psychiatry. I am a qualified doctor. I coach top company chief executives. Most celebrities in the city land up on my couch. I conduct high-end workshops with corporates on how to deal with work pressure and increase productivity. I could go on and on. Bottom line, I am not wearing this expensive suit and pearls to impress you. This is my second skin. Dressing smart and finding smart solutions to intractable problems come naturally to me.’

  Rahul suddenly felt tired and bereft of emotions. ‘I should clap, shouldn’t I? But I won’t. You are not a dress but neither are you a breakthrough that idiots hail as an out-of-the-box solution. You have no idea what is happening out here. Do you seriously think I am going to waste my time with a corporate shrink who desperately wants me to look at her haircut and smooth legs and impress me with her high-end client list? You really have a nerve, lady, to believe I will fall for these stupid, infantile games!’

  She kept quiet and continued to smile. That irritated him even more.

  ‘And what shit do you think we will be talking about here? Oh wait! I know! We will be talking about feelings! Right? That’s the new buzz word nowadays, is it not? Everyone is into it. The world has become one giant Oprah Winfrey show! Feelings and issues, emotional fuckfest! You and I would probably end up having a conversation like this: How are we feeling today, Mr Abhyankar? How do you feel after your girlfriend’s disappearance? How do you feel about the girls in office eyeing you? How do you feel when you are on the couch and I walk into office with clickety heels? Do you feel an erection coming on, Mr Abhyankar, when I am with you? Are you feeling auto-erotic transference between us, Mr Abhyankar?’

  Rahul got up from the bed and lost control. He began to shout till he was blue in the face.

  ‘A man has a private moment; a moment of confusion and grief. Unknown to him, an army of vultures gather outside his door because they have smelled rich pickings. I meet wheeler-dealers every day, Madame Sehgal. Of late, they have started to wear business suits. I can smell someone like you from a mile away. What really amazes me is how quickly you have moved to fill space. You seriously think I am so fucked up that I will let a woman wearing a skirt and blouse and lipstick into my private world? Am I that fucked up or are you? You have the temerity to enter the room I am sleeping in without knocking!’

  She did not say a word but continued to smile. He felt the pain, anger and helplessness rush out of his system like bad air. He felt raw, emptied of energy and emotion. She took her time looking at him and then she spoke.

  ‘So the real Mr Abhyankar emerges. Bravo! It took its time, but it’s finally here. Are you feeling relieved after having dropped the self-effacing, whining, traumatized, helpless-like-a-puppy side to you? Should you not be feeling proud and satisfied that you have real emotion walled up in you? Forget for a moment what I did or what I want. Were you aware before this that you have in you a vein, or maybe even a mine, of dark, red-hot fury that can barely be contained?’

  He stared at her in shocked surprise. It hit him that she had led him on so he could open up. The dress, the lipstick, the bimbo doctor introduction and the ‘Google me’ invite. She was either a master manipulator or a terrific doctor of the couch.

  She spoke rapidly and businesslike.

  ‘I know what you are thinking, Mr Abhyankar. It’s a bad feeling to be manipulated. So, let me lay my cards on the table. Suhel briefed me about you in detail. He’s very concerned about you. I promised Suhel an initial diagnosis after meeting with you. I could only achieve that by creatively pushing the envelope. The lipstick, the skirt are obviously an exaggeration, even though I find nothing wrong in dressing like this once in a while. All I wanted to do was to rile you up to see how far you were headed down the road you took.’

  Rahul, with a sense of emptiness, asked her, ‘How far am I gone?’

  ‘Quite far,’ she replied briskly. ‘That vein of anger inside you is not ordinary. I fear your girlfriend’s disappearance has pushed some buttons you might be unaware of. You are having auditory and sensory hallucinations. You are constantly fatigued. Yet, in a strange way you are determined to track down whoever is responsible for your girlfriend’s disappearance. If we add all this up, you might be heading for a psychological meltdown.’

  She put her pad and pen into her purse and snapped it shut. She headed for the door without feeling a need to say goodbye. She was almost out of the door when he called after her, ‘Will you help me, Tanya Sehgal?’

  CHAPTER 21

  There were a series of clicks, and the door opened slightly. A face peeped out from the crack. The young Nepali help took a good look at the man standing outside. He then stretched his hand out, palm upwards. The man outside thought for a moment and then put a hundred-rupee note on it. The young help grinned and moved his palm up and down, as if weighing the note. The man debated and then put two more hundred-rupee notes on it. The satisfied help opened the door, and Fredo walked in.

  The help whispered with a sense of urgency.

  ‘She’s just gone in. There is a hole I have drilled to the left, near the grille. She will be in there for fifteen minutes tops. That’s how long she usually takes in the bathroom. Finish the job and get out before time runs out. Otherwise we will both be done for.’

  ‘Understood,’ said Fredo and crept up across the hall to the bathroom. A cocker spaniel chained at the end of the hallway began to bark at the stranger who had walked into the apartment. The memsahib’s voice drifted out of the bathroom.

  ‘Suraj, Dino must be hungry. Give him some bread soaked in milk.’

  Both men froze, but Suraj was quick to recover. ‘Will do, Memsahib.’ The Nepali help fiercely whispered in Fredo’s ear, ‘Get moving. I will take care of the dog.’

  Fredo climbed a table and looked through the peephole to determine whether she was worth all the trouble. He could not believe his luck. She was in her mid-thirties, slim but had begun to put on some weight around her hips. Her breasts were full, and she had a harried look on her face that could mean she was dissatisfied with her economic situation, or her husband, or his performance in bed, or her role as a housewife. Or perhaps it was a combination of it all. Yeah, that must be it, thought Fredo wearing his pop psychologist hat.

  The woman was moving in the bathroom without a purpose, brushing her teeth with one hand and opening her blouse with the other. He watched in fascination as she took off her blouse, then her bra and finally her petticoat. Fredo experienced his biggest-ever erection, but he had a job to do. He took out his cellphone with one hand and unzipped himself with the other. The woman entered the wash area and turned on the shower. Her nipples perked up against the water.

  Fredo began to jerk off vigorously an
d film her at the same time. She lifted a leg and placed it in a cleft on the tiled wall. She rubbed her leg and private parts generously with a sponge. Fredo found it hard to breathe normally. He wished he could freeze the moment.

  The help walked up to Fredo after feeding the dog. He pulled at Fredo’s trousers to press upon him that time was up. Fredo, however, was in heaven and ignored the summons. He continued to jerk away.

  Around that time, the situation changed dramatically, in part brought about by events that had unfolded a little earlier. The memsahib’s husband had kissed his wife goodbye, who had rather brusquely accepted the affectionate peck because it was almost time for her soap operas and the kitchen had to be set to order. There were a million things to do before she could lose herself on the sofa in front of the TV set. In the meantime, the husband, speeding along NH-8, suddenly remembered that he had forgotten his presentation papers in his study. Damn! He had no choice but to turn back.

  So, around the time Fredo went red in the face because he was close to ejaculation, the husband climbed the last flight of stairs to the apartment. The door was half-open. He saw red and cursed the help. He was going to set the little fellow right! Anyone could have walked in because of his carelessness. The husband walked in and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of the unbelievable scene before him.

  The little fellow was tugging at the trousers of a pizza delivery boy, who was standing on a table, looking into their bathroom and recording on his cellphone through a secret peephole. At that very moment, the pizza delivery boy jerked off in copious amounts on the wall. His tongue hung out and his member continued to be quite erect, twitching for the action to never end. The cocker spaniel, seeing its master unexpectedly, began to bark excitedly. And then all was hell.