by Varsha Dixit
“Get your fucking hands off me!” Aisha hissed at him.
Sudhir reacted as if she had slapped him across the face. “Now listen—”
Aisha opened the door and walked out of the room. Sitting in the car, she rested her hands on the steering wheel. Her mind was churning faster than juice in a blender. She cupped her head.
What the hell is going on?
Her cell rang, and Aisha glanced at it. It was Kabir. Ignoring the call, she started the car.
I’m not sure about you anymore.
Chapter 70
Parking the car, Aisha walked to the set. Her head was still muddled from the meeting with Sudhir Vyast. Her cell rang again. An unknown number. She answered it. “Aisha here!”
“Aisha, this Dr. Lorso from Panaji.”
“Hi, Dr. Lorso, how are you?”
“Good. And you?”
“I have been better! How can I help you?”
“Have you heard from Parth?” Dr. Lorso asked. “I have been trying his cell but it’s coming unreachable or switched off.”
“Oh! He is not in Goa?”
“He went to Mumbai today morning and he said he would be getting in touch with you.”
“I haven’t heard from him.” Aisha glanced around and lowered her voice. “With finding the van and all, I thought he’d have a lot to do there.”
“It was because of the van that he has gone to Mumbai. He called me up from the airport. He was excited; he said he was close to catching the killer.”
“That’s huge!” Aisha’s hand fisted at her side. “Did he say anything else? Anything at all?”’
“No, that is all he said. Your number was on our team contact sheet, so I called.”
“My number is in the team contact sheet?” Aisha felt her dismal day brighten.
“Yes, and Parth sort of scratched it out after he found out about the fake accreditation.”
“Oh!” Aisha cleared her throat.
“If you hear from Parth, let him know I was calling just to make sure he reached. Bye!”
“Bye!” Aisha hung up. Her phone rang immediately. Aisha glanced at it. She let Kabir’s call go to voicemail. Then she texted him. Super busy at work. Will call you tomorrow.
Close to seven that night one of the assistant directors tapped on Aisha’s shoulder. “Ma’am you have visitor.”
“We are about to shoot a scene here.” Aisha said.
“I know, Ma’am, but your guest is very . . . impatient.” The young AD kept flicking her eyes nervously over her shoulder.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” Aisha lobbed an apologetic glance at Sarita, the serial director, sitting next to her. Ignoring the director’s frown, Aisha walked out of the set and yanked the large door that led outside.
She saw her visitor. “I got this.” Aisha assured the AD.
At the sound of her voice, Kabir stopped his frantic pacing and turned. His expression was harsh. “We need to talk!”
Chapter 71
Aisha shut the door behind her. “I was working!”
Kabir caught her elbow. “It’s important. It’s about Shreya.”
Aisha let him take her to the side. She could see people from the production team and some spot boys loitering nearby watch them with avid interest. Kabir led her to a post behind the set.
Aisha leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms. Her face mutinous, she stared ahead of her.
“Did you go to meet Sudhir Vyast? Shreya’s ex-husband?”
News travels fast. That rat.
“I was exploring new opportunities.” Aisha fibbed. “Work opportunities.”
“Go on!”
“Then your name came up and Shreya’s name came up and he just wouldn’t shut up. He wanted to tell his side of the story.”
“And you wanted to hear it?” Kabir said, his face etched out of stone. He reminded Aisha of the Kabir she had first met.
“Ugh!” Aisha snorted. She knew she was making a hash of things with him. But there were too many doubts about Kabir for her to come to any conclusion about him. “I just didn’t interrupt him. I was being polite.”
Abruptly, Kabir grabbed Aisha’s shoulder.
“Hey!” Aisha protested, her expression wary as she glanced at him.
“What’s got into you? Why are you being such . . . such a tight ass?”
Aisha pulled his hand off her shoulder. “Tight ass? Really?” She shook her head. “Watch your tone.”
“My tone!” Kabir’s eyes widened incredulous. “Because of you that jerk, Sudhir, called Shreya and threatened to sue her, insisting that she was harassing him through her people. Shreya called me; she was so upset.”
“Got it.” Aisha smacked her forehead mockingly. “So, you are super upset because Shreya is upset? And now you want me to be super upset about a person who I haven’t even met?”
“Aisha, you of all people should understand why I’m angry about this. Shreya is family. You have sacrificed your whole life for your family.”
Aisha made an impatient click of her tongue. “Sacrificed? I haven’t sacrificed anything. They are my family. My blood relations.”
I’m such a jealous shrew!
Kabir took a step back. His voice rose above Aisha’s. “Oh, so just because Shreya and I are not related, that means she and I can’t have a strong bond? I can’t feel for her? Is that what you are saying?”
Aisha could no longer hold back her accusations and doubts. “I don’t know of friends who cause trouble in their friend’s marriages. Who calls newly-married friends in the middle of the night or throw surprise parties for their married friend and not invite the husband,” she lashed out.
Kabir’s expression was part incredulous and part furious. “Are you saying I broke Shreya’s marriage? Are you?” He pulled her close, glaring down at her.
Aisha smacked his hands away, her mouth a tight thin line. “Don’t touch me! And yes I am. Prove me wrong.”
Kabir studied Aisha’s mutinous face and he ground out. “Not that it is any of your business, but it was Shreya who used to call me because of that asshole of a husband cheated on her from day one. He neglected her, humiliated her, and did not miss a single opportunity to belittle her. She needed a friend, someone to support her and that is what I did. Frankly speaking, I don’t care what you think or what anyone else thinks about her and my relationship. Whenever and wherever Shreya needs me, I am going to be there for her. No questions asked.”
“Good for you and good for her!” Aisha whipped her hair.
Kabir grabbed her elbow, his eyes glittering wildly. “And what about your morals, Aisha? You are stringing along the cop, me and God knows how many others? What does that make you? A tease, a cheat or something even worse?”
Aisha felt slashed by Kabir’s insinuations. “For your kind information, I’m actually helping the cop solve these horrific murders and also saving your ass!”
Kabir flinched like she had struck him. “Saving me from what?”
Oops! Aisha remained quiet.
“I’m asking you something, Saving me from what? Answer me. What or who the hell are you saving me from?” Kabir loomed over her.
“The police. All the murders happened in March and December, the two months you are always there in Goa.” Aisha raised an accusing finger at Kabir’s angry face. “Seven girls were killed in those months. The killer dislikes beauty and what did you say to me the other day? “Beauty can be ugly too!” Also, the police found the van, the one in which the bastard kills these girls at Lopez Point—the place where you shoot your ad every year,” she paused, unable to meet his eyes.
“You are a hack. So are the police, if that is the basis of accusing someone of killing . . .” Kabir swallowed. “Killing innocent women . . .”
The hurt on his face made Aisha defensive and guilty “The killer takes a shoe of the girl he kills as a souvenir. The first night at the beach, I found a shoe. It belonged to one of the murdered women. And there was no one
else there on the beach but you and I,” she paused, her chest heaving. “No one else.” Aisha heaved with the burden of her revelation.
Kabir stared at her with the deathly stillness of a statue. His finally spoke, his voice flat and his eyes anguished. “So, tell me Aisha, how long have you been investigating me?”
Aisha felt like crying at the pain in his expression. “I’m not investigating you. I was just trying to get to the bottom of all this.”
She tucked her hands behind her back and leaned against the wall.
“And why are the police taking your help?”
Aisha scuffed her sandal against the loose gravel. “Because of my degree.”
“Speak up, Aisha!”
“Dammit! Because of my fake degree!” Aisha cringed, closing her eyes. “Sorry, that came out all wrong.” She opened her eyes. “What . . .” She trailed off seeing Kabir walk away.
“Hey!” she called out.
Kabir stopped, dropped his head down and then straightened up. “Stay the hell away from me!”
He looked at Aisha. His gaze was steadfast. “Whatever this was—genuine on my part, fake on yours—ends right here, right now.”
Aisha straightened and spoke, her tone weary. “I’m going to keep digging!” Her eyes were overtly bright.
This is not supposed to hurt so much.
“Just stay away from me!” Kabir spun around and walked away in the darkness, becoming an indiscernible part of it.
Aisha inhaled deeply and twisted her mouth to control her tears. She sniffed.
It wasn’t supposed to end this way. It wasn’t supposed to end!
Chapter 72
Aisha wasn’t sure how long she stood there after Kabir left but when she moved away from the wall, the tears had dried on her cheeks. She went back inside the set, her movements robotic as she hid in the corner behind the camera team. Pack up was declared around an hour later.
Aisha picked up her bag and walked to her car, dragging her feet.
“You okay, Boss? There is something on your face.” Rustom came up to her, a clipboard in his hand.
“I’m good, Rusty, probably some dust.” Aisha wiped her face. “So, tomorrow’s scenes?” she pointed at the clipboard.
“Yup!” Rustom held out the clipboard.
Just then, Aisha’s cell beeped. She had received a text. She was quick to grab her cell, her expression wishful.
“Not the text you were expecting, Boss?”
“What?” Aisha gazed at her assistant vacantly.
“Your expression!” Rustom gestured. “Never mind. I will be in the production room.” He walked away.
Aisha re-read the message again. It was from Parth.
Meet me at 29/A2 Gandhi Kunj, Mahim. It is the building behind Mahim Park.
Aisha stared at the text for a few seconds and glanced at her wrist watch. It was nearly 8:00 pm.
At this time? Why? She messaged back.
Close to catching the bastard. You should be here.
“Oh!” Aisha exhaled.
Parth sent another text. We are meeting at Vikas’s apartment. He has been instrumental in getting all the evidence against the killer. Someone you both know.
Aisha clutched her stomach. Shit! Kabir! She typed with shaky fingers. He was just here. You all could be wrong. Kabir is not our killer!
It’s not Kabir. Parth’s text read.
Aisha read the message repeatedly till she could absorb the words. She felt lightheaded with happiness. Aisha started laughing hysterically. “It’s not him! It’s not him!” She felt as if a crushing boulder had rolled off her chest. She could breathe again, and she would finally be a part of something she had yearned for since she was eleven—the police.
Bending her head, she was quick to text Parth. It will take me around one and half hours to get there. Would that be okay?
Fine. Don’t share this with anyone!
Of course. Dr. Lorso had called me, wondering about your whereabouts.
Don’t tell him anything. Once we catch the guy, we will share it with everyone. Right now, it’s just my team, you, and Vikas. Hurry!
On my way! Aisha did not bother correcting Parth’s typo on Dr. Lorso’s gender. Happy that Kabir was innocent, she pressed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Aisha walked back to the set wanting to use the restroom for it was going to be a long drive.
She rounded the corner. The first people she saw were Rustom and Sarita Tanwar.
“Where were you, Aisha?” Sarita looked displeased.
“What happened?” Aisha asked, observing Rustom’s worried glance.
“There were continuity issues with the dialog and we were looking for you. Can I talk to you?” Sarita asked.
“I have it right here?” Rustom held up the papers in his hand.
“It’s okay,” Aisha followed Sarita to her makeshift office.
Sarita closed the door behind them.
“What’s going on, Sarita?”
The older woman sat down in her chair. “You tell me. Obviously, there is something going on in your life. You are missing work, and when you are at work, you are not really here.”
“Sarita, I had so much vacation time. I just took two weeks.”
“I know, but you took it suddenly. You said one week and then you came back and took another. You know how a daily soap works. We only have a bank of one week’s episodes. But because of your absence and the chaos that happened, now we have no bank. We are shooting next day’s telecast literally a day before. If the management found out they will fire me, Aisha.”
“What are you saying?”
“Take a sabbatical for a month or ten months or whatever time you need. When you have resolved everything on your end, come back. You have long relations with the company; they will always have something for you.” Sarita smiled reassuringly.
“Are you firing me?” Aisha felt her stomach churn.
Sarita avoided her eyes. “I’m just saving my job, Aisha. This is a show that runs many households. I can’t screw all that for one person’s inefficiency. I’m sorry!”
Ten minutes later, Aisha walked off the set carrying two years’ worth of her work-life in a 24*12 box.
“I can’t believe she did that!” Rustom said for the umpteenth time.
The news of Aisha’s firing had spread fast on the set. Aisha was on good terms with nearly everyone. Rustom, Veena and other people from the set, including some actors, walked Aisha to the car.
“It’s okay, Rusty and Veena! Make me proud.” Aisha hugged everyone. She kept the goodbyes short and drove off. She had somewhere very important to be.
“Heartbroken and jobless all in an hour!” Aisha muttered, squeezing her eyes to clear them of tears.
Somehow, losing the job hurt less.
Chapter 73
After stopping once to ask directions, Aisha pulled up in the parking spot of the building Parth had asked her to come to. She bent under the windshield and stared at the four-story decrepit building that appeared even bleaker in the poor street lighting.
“Gosh, what the heck is this place?”
Aisha took tentative steps in the direction of the entrance, avoiding the moths that buzzed under the broken lamp nearby. There was no security at the gate or inside. Hesitantly, Aisha went past a few brown and wilted pots that lined the grounds.
Someone had painted “out of order” in red on the rusting elevator door.
Wouldn’t take it anyway!
Aisha went up the stairs that smelled of dust and some other not-so-pleasant things. The walls around her were peeling and patched. A naked bulb hanging above the stairs washed the place in a sickly yellow light.
Aisha clutched the bouquet in her hands a little tighter, worried that the toxic surroundings would spoil the freshness of the flowers she had picked up on the way for Vikas’s ailing mother.
Aisha heard footsteps coming down. She paused. An older man came down the stairs. His white hair was long straggling and dirty lik
e the creased kurta and checked lungi he wore. He paused, his watery eyes widening in surprise as he saw Aisha.
Aisha paused, uncertain. He was too old to be any real threat, yet the man did not seem harmless. He resumed walking and Aisha lowered her eyes, giving him room to pass. He stopped in front of Aisha and stared in her face.
“Ugh!” Aisha averted her face for his breath smelled fouler than rotten eggs.
“Do you have some money?” He whispered.
“No.”
Aisha skirted around and rushed up the remaining distance. She paused at the second floor. The corridor she faced was dark and narrow. A dim bulb at the end of the corridor was the only light.
“Shit!” Aisha took small steps stepping over some questionable spill.
A radio played old Hindi movie songs behind a scratched door. A stray dog sat curled in front of another. It raised weary eyes to see Aisha and went back to snoozing, its ribs clearly visible under its skin.
What the heck, Vikas? Why do you live in this dump?
Aisha paused in front of the pale weathered door with A2 painted on it. Seeing no doorbell, Aisha knocked twice, sharply, and quickly.
“Who is it?” Vikas’s response was muffled and instantaneous.
“It’s me, Aisha,” She kept her voice low.
The door opened immediately.
“Come in,” Vikas smiled, ushering her in.
“Thanks!” Aisha entered the flat, expecting to find a few policemen inside. She was wrong. It was empty.
Closing the door, Vikas turned to her.
“For your mother!” Aisha handed him the flowers. “How is she?”
Vikas appeared surprised and then gave her a slow shy smile. “She is sleeping right now. But she loves flowers. Yellow roses are her favorite. Thank you!”
“Welcome!”
“Have a seat,” Vikas ushered her to a chair. Aisha sat down and looked around. All furniture in the room, including the sofa she sat in, was covered with a transparent plastic cover.
“After chemo session, mummy has become susceptible to infections, so I take precautions to keep everything germ-free.
