by Varsha Dixit
RIGHT FIT
WRONG SHOE
RIGHT FIT
WRONG SHOE
Varsha Dixit
First published in 2009 by
Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd.
7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj
New Delhi 110002
Sales centres:
Allahabad Bengaluru Chennai
Hyderabad Jaipur Kathmandu
Kolkata Mumbai
Copyright © Varsha Dixit 2009
This digital edition published in 2012
Varsha Dixit asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
e-ISBN: 978-81-291-2343-5
All rights reserved.
This e-book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, mechanical, print reproduction, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. Any unauthorized distribution of this e-book may be considered a direct infringement of copyright and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
This book is dedicated, to the SPUNKIEST and the sweetest woman, I had the good fortune to be born to and raised by, my Mother, Mrs Shakun Dixit. She was the first, literary and literally, romantic I ever crossed paths with.
Also, I would like to dedicate this book and any other that I may ever write to my one-stop-shop of pure solace and love, my late father, Mr Suman Shankar Dixit. His limitless encouragement and unconditional love continues to warm and guide me even after his sad demise. I miss you so much every day Papa!
My love of reading and writing was honed and nurtured by these two wonderful people. They believed in me even when I did not.
Contents
Characters
1 Aaj ki taaza khabar
2 Naraaz
3 Jab we met
4 Andaz Apna Apna (flashback continues...)
5 Eq hi Maqsad (2 the present)
6 Aamne Samne
7 Raaz
8 Guru
9 Bol Radha Bol
10 Imtihaan (flashback continues...)
11 Bundalbaz (flashback continues...)
12 Aaj, Kal, Parso (flashback continues...)
13 Majboor
14 Yes Boss
15 Bombay
16 Main Hoon Na
17 Dil, Dosti, etc.
18 Yeh Tera Ghar Yeh Mera Ghar
19 Dhokha
20 Laaga Chunari Mein Daag... Almost!
21 Bhagam Bhaag
22 Boom
23 Mujhe Kuch Kehna Hai
24 Meri Awaaz Suno
25 Proud to be an Indian
26 Phir Teri Kahani Yaad Aayi
27 Hum Se Hain Zamana (flashback continues...)
28 Ishq Viskq
29 Saajan ki Saheli
30 Jhoota Sach
31 Rani Roopvati
32 Return of the Jewel Thief
33 Aakhir Kyon?
34 Gharwali, Baharwali
35 Do Jasoos
36 Shshsh... Koi Hai!
37 Kya Love Story Hai
38 Pyar Mein Twist
39 Mother India
Glossary
Thank you
To my husband, Sumit. Life is so much love, fun and drama filled largely because of him. I also know him as the gentlest of my critics and the staunchest of my supporters.
To my brother, Sanjay, who with all his accolades and accomplishments, raised the bar of sibling rivalry so high that I had no choice but to write a novel and pray that it sells, big time. His being a fabulous elder brother didn’t hurt either.
To my in-laws, Mr and Mrs Mehrish, for their continued support and love.
To my three empowered and adorable sisters-in-law, Deepa, Puja and Pragati, especially Pragati, my BFF, who possesses a saint’s generosity and the devil’s wit.
To all my awesome friends and relatives:
Ruchika Oberoi (my langotiya yaar, today, tomorrow and always!)
Deepti Talwar and Seema Chowdhury (my SATC brigade! I am looking forward to growing old with you both), Uditi and Ridhi (our bond and memories go back a long way).
Shinu Didi (that one and only cousin who I can laugh with till my organs fall out of my mouth), Mami, Madhu Chachi (my aunt and very first friend who gives a new meaning to being young at heart), Prathibha Didi (for being so crazily gregarious and nice) Saroj Bua, Rita Aunty and Geeta Didi.
Ashima Gupta (your sweet and generous nature humbles me), Sonia Sandhu (a fun loving gal pal who’s warm inside out.)
Sahai Aunty, Uncle and Varu (only you could have shown such love and warmth to a complete stranger and for so long, thank you), Vandana Trivedi (the gentlest of souls) and Mary Ann (I cannot remember my past without your presence).
Ashok Tiwari for years of great friendship.
A few others jimmerwar
Richa Sharma and Nidhi Agarwal (two of my best buds who lived and breathed this book, for months, giving me the much-needed confidence).
Shinie Antony whose insightful inputs and suggestions were just the beginning of the role she would play in getting my work published.
To my wonderful publishers, Rupa and their superb editor, Rashmi Krishnadas, for their faith and endeavour in making this book happen.
A special mention of the children in the family
My Sanjana (who’s already a published author and she’s not even nine), Pranav (both small and big), Raghav (the most untiring of my supporters), and finally, the occasional frown on my brow, the perpetual smile on my lips and the beat in my heart – Anvi.
And...
My heartfelt thank you to the city of Kanpur and its people for all the much cherished memories. The city shall always be home for me.
Also, a very sincere salute to the Indian film industry for making my heart feel and head think, innumerable times. Consider my work an ode to you!
Characters
Sharma Household
Nirbhay Sharma – Father
Shruti Sharma – Mother
Namit Sharma – Son
Meghna Mishra Sharma – Daughter-in-law
Nandini Sharma – Daughter
Sarin Household
Paresh Sarin – Father
Vibha Sarin – Mother
Ajit Sarin – Elder son
Seema Kashyap Sarin – Daughter-in-law
Aditya Sarin – Younger son
Verma Household
Ankit Verma – Husband
Sneha Roy Verma – Wif e
Advey Roy Verma – Son
Villains
Rochak Chowdhury
Gayatri
Various
Mrs Mina Shukla – Owner of Ace Advertising Agency
Mrs Simone D’Souza – Personal assistant to Aditya Sarin
Ms Riya Pathak – Part of the design department
Mr Roy Sengupta – Part of the design department
Ms Tina Kashyap – Part of the design department
1
Aaj ki taaza khabar
'T hat’s a pakka BTM! Bunty and Babli buying together? Hello... Uncle, buying for Aunty or Shanti?’ Nandini went on labe;ling the people, coming in and out of the shop, across the street, from the conference room she sat in. Why has the shopkeeper written ‘Hosiery’ in English, and ‘Lingerie’ in Hindi? The latter sounds more like stri ling for langur, she wondered for the millionth time. Bored to the point of self-immolation, Nandini looked around, catching her reflection in the adjoining glass window.
She addressed th
e empty conference room. ‘Laddies and gentalman, for all those who don’t know... my stats are 2666-96. Naari of 26, with pakau soch of 66 and living as if she’s 96.’ Her voice dropping a few notches, Nandini whispered the announcement, ‘Me whela and my life—’
Whatever Nandini was about to say, hovered incomplete, as a girl, a few years younger than she was, entered the room. Reading off her cell, Riya, gushed, ‘Nandini, did you hear? Aditya Sarin is coming to town!’
Let me rephrase – my life and me are now officially and royally screwed! Nandini panicked. The pencil slid from her hand, clattering onto the patterned mosaic floor. Immediately bending to retrieve it, Nandini let her long, black locks hide her distressed face – just enough time to reboot her expression.
‘The international success story, is actually going to breathe the same air... as us?’ Roy droned, strolling in behind Riya. His eyes, unlike his voice, not totally disinterested.
Who could blame him? Not every day did a bigwig of that proportion visit this sleepy town. Cawnpore, Kaunpur? Or KANPUR – that is what it was and is, before and after, the last of the least known elections.
‘Not to forget his dishy looks... ooh! I could have him for just about every meal of my entire mortal life.’ Coming in behind Roy, Tina simpered, fluttering her eyelashes. An effort totally wasted because of the perpetual no-nonsense shape of her mouth, further intensified by a makeup-free face and a painfully short haircut. There were whispers that she actually visited a naayi for the authentic touch.
The other person, amidst them (remember the girl who dropped the pencil), heard the ongoing conversation with something akin to shock. What interest now, could this place be to him? Nandini wondered.
‘People and the cars of this city need a better life, big time!’ In the past, the heir apparent to the Sarin business empire, had griped often enough to her.
Nandini’s conscience, or whatever that loud thing sitting inside her was, niggled, ‘You very well know, why he’s coming back! For revenge munchkins, and all of it from you... hahaha!’ Yup! Nandini’s conscience came with, tailor-made staccato villainous laughs, among other unbelievable features and upgrades.
‘Tina, take those damn ipod thingies out of your head. One would think you were born with it. Riya, please stop sms-ing. I am sure you’ve texted half of the country by now,’ Nandini rebuked.
‘Nah! Only half of the office!’ Riya replied, her tone, just like her face – impish.
Nandini shook her head. Her young face seemingly composed in front of the even younger designing team. ‘Enough guys! Can we get some work done here?’
‘Nandini this is big, it’s huge! Who knows? One of us may actually snare the country’s most eligible bachelor,’ Riya said, with dilated eyes. ‘I can see my favourite Mills & Boon coming to life in front of me. In which...’
‘In which, the girl kills the rich guy, gets all his money and then marries his best friend, only to find out the best friend is actually a woman, who has a sex change,’ Tina teased.
Riya made a face at her. ‘Very funny! As I was saying, my favourite kind of M&B is the one where, celebrity-meets-an-undiscovered-stunner-and-falls-head-and-vast material possessions intact-in-love-with-her. With, me essaying the role of the undiscovered stunner,’ Riya said.
‘Forget it! Aditya Sarin plays in a different league altogether. Regular girls like us could be a part of the toilet roll for all he cares, right Nandi?’ Tina glanced at her for support.
‘Wrong, completely wrong! Yeh saraasar jhooth hain melord!’ Nandini wanted to stand on her chair, and vigorously shout the done-to-death dialogue, from our good-ol-Bollywood. However, she concurred, dully, ‘Of course! Aditya wouldn’t notice us even if we stood stark naked.’
‘I would!’ Roy leered, mockingly. Instantaneously a few paper clips, launched by the women hit him smack on the face.
‘You would what?’ inquired a girl close to Nandini’s age, as she shouldered the door open, her hands laden with books and files.
Nandini hustled to her feet to help her peer manager, best friend and self-imposed guardian angel, since standard ten, Sneha Verma. In school, Sneha had once saved Nandini from the bullies and after that, she had vowed to protect Nandini for life; from everyone and everything—except herself.
Riya quickly filled her in. ‘Sneha, guess what? Aditya Sarin is coming to Cawnpore.’
‘I know,’ Sneha replied, casually, offloading some of her burden in her friend’s arms.
Nandini’s pretty mouth fell open. The files in her hand nearly met the pencil’s fate... nearly. ‘You know?’ Her tone and eyes were condemning.
‘Ya! Kit (short for Ankit, her husband) mentioned it today morning,’ Sneha said, sliding in an empty chair.
Gnawing her bottom lip, Nandini remained where she was. ‘Why do you look nervous Nandi, you owe Sarin money or what?’ Roy teased.
‘You are such a bag of laughs... Johny Lever!’ Nandini retorted, avoiding Sneha’s eyes. She propelled her body to the conference table, even though her insides repeatedly screamed at her, ‘Bus addaa! Flee to the nearest bus addaa!’
‘Let’s get cracking guys! I am nervous about the presentation for that pen company, due soon. That account is colossal and Ace Advertising Agency, as in us, really needs it.’ Nandini’s rebuke was more for herself than others. Her thoughts were flying all over the place.
After some half-hearted protests, formally lodged by the three musketeers (Roy, Tina and Riya), the group got busy with work at hand, Aditya Sarin forgotten by all but two.
‘Gosh, it’s seven, can we wrap up now?’ Riya requested, stretching her arms over her shoulder.
‘Damn! Sorry to keep you guys so long. We’ll finish this tomorrow.’ Nandini rubbed her forehead. ‘Why didn’t you say something? Ms Stickler for leaving at six!’ she rounded at Sneha. The latter did have an irresistible reason to head home every day and once in a while at lunch too.
‘I just decided to make an exception today,’ Sneha replied, smiling enigmatically. Nandini gulped.
‘Puhlease, it’s no biggie! Chowdhury keeps his team till nine, almost every night,’ Tina assured.
‘Don’t you dare compare me to that jackass!’ Nandini pasted a scowl on her face.
‘God! Rochak Chowdhary repulses me. The other day I was alone with him in the elevator, and those were the longest and creepiest twenty seconds of my life,’ Riya shuddered, recalling.
‘Did Roach (company anointed Rochak’s unofficial but befitting nickname) try something?’ Sneha immediately demanded.
‘No! But he’s just so sleazy. Especially his eyes! It feels like he is stripping me,’ Riya replied.
‘You and just about every woman, unfortunate enough to cross his path,’ added Roy, slinging his satchel over the shoulder .
‘Mrs Shukla only tolerates Roach because of his contacts in and outside the industry. Actually Rochak is like periods!’ Tina said.
Roy visibly squirmed. Sneha goaded, ‘Explain!’
‘He’s smelly, dark and bothers women between fifteen–fifty,’ Tina replied, grinning.
‘Well said!’ Riya agreed.
‘Except there’s no Roach control pill that will make him go away for twenty-eight days, every month,’ laughing, Sneha added.
‘You’re on birth control?’ Nandini asked.
‘Just knowing about it doesn’t mean I’m taking—’
‘Do you women even realise there’s a man amongst you all?’ Roy’s tone was clearly exasperated.
‘Who?’ Tina and Riya chorused simultaneously.
Sneha and Nandini cackled. Roy opened his mouth but Sneha beat him to it. ‘Alright, see you guys tomorrow.’ She hastened the discussion to an end. However, witty and funny, any conversation about Rochak Chowdhury, the marketing head, still ruled as the least favourite or the most vehemently hated topic for Nandini.
A few minutes later, the three trooped out. Their bosses, the two chaddi-buddies, always stayed back at the end of the day
to chat a bit.
Nandini gathering her stuff from the table, offered, ‘If you and Ankit have any plans tonight, I’m free to baby sit Advey.’ Sneha’s irresistible reason to go home was her eighteen-month-old toddler. Nandini too obsessed over him.
‘All that later! Why is he coming back?’ Sneha grilled, honing straight to the point. There was no need to mention names between them. She and Nandini, 110% of the times were on the same wavelengths .
Sighing, Nandini said, ‘No clue Sneh! Just hope he’s forgotten all that happened between us.’
Sneha’s rude bark of laughter said it all, yet she voiced, ‘I doubt Aditya will ever forget. I merely wish he knew the truth .’
Nandini whipped her head up, the expression dank. ‘Sneha, don’t even go there. You gave me your word never to bring it up.’
The other girl’s face burst into a cheeky smile. ‘Nandi, you only call me Sneha when you are either mad at me or in hot soup. What’s it this time?’ Her brows bounced up and down, mischievous and suggestive.
Nandini in an answer further narrowed her eyes and pulled her lips back.
‘Fine! Spare me that pit-bull look. My lips are sealed. Tell me, Nandini what’s your POA in life?’
‘If you must know, I just want to live my life the way it is happening. I do not want to expect, plan or steer it in any direction.’
‘That’s lame Nandi. No one lives like that.’
‘Some do! Call my kind lazy, content or just spokes in the super demanding and ambitious wheel of life.’
‘Well you were never a phataka but I definitely remember a time when you were not so maara hua. C’mon Kulta, let go of the past.’
‘You are the oldest part of my past,’ Nandini countered.
‘The song for constipation, electricity of this city and your budhi is the same.’
‘Are you nuts? Why am I stating the obvious?’ Nandini picked up her things .
Sneha did a hip and shoulder shake, as she belted the number, ‘Aaati nahin, aaaati nahin. Teri yaad aati hein par tu aati nahin!’
‘Shuddup! Are you done making an ass of yourself? Will you please tell me if you want me to baby sit Advey or not?’ Nandini asked, gruffly.
