Club You to Death by Anuja Chauhan (books to improve english .TXT) 📕

unforgivable and you want a girlfriend with different priorities, then just let me know, okay? Don’t let this drift and be ‘kind.’ You’re always too kind.

Also, please please have fun in your three free weeks! I will feel SO guilty if you don’t.

I missed your sweet, drowsy good-morning call today. I missed it like a limb.

I’ve ordered some books from Amazon which will be delivered to your place. Please COD 795 rupees?

Hugs,

Kuhu

He’s frowning down at the screen, torn between resentment and remorse, when a voice speaks from the doorway.

‘Behenchod, Dogra, get out of bed! You can’t stroke your balls ruminatively under that razai all day.’

Kashi flips a middle finger. ‘What are you, Walli, my mother-in-law?’

Kartik Walli leans on the door jamb. He’s dressed for a corporate meeting – sharp jacket, shined shoes, slicked back hair.

Kashi grimaces. ‘You look like a hooker.’

‘I am a hooker. I’ve got a ten o’clock meeting at the head office and I’m already late. What about you?’

Kashi looks disgruntled. ‘I’d taken three weeks off to go to Goa with Kuhu, remember?’

‘Oh yaaa!’ Walli chuckles. ‘She cancelled! After you spent a whole month working on your abs!’

‘Yeah.’ Kashi yanks up his sweatshirt with a flourish and flexes. ‘Should I go flash these guns at other women?’

‘Hunter!’ Walli crows approvingly. ‘Of course you should! Like who?’

There’s an odd little pause.

Kashi lets his sweatshirt drop. ‘I bumped into Bambi Todi yesterday,’ he says casually.

‘Wha—?’ Walli’s jaw sags. He scrambles into the room, sits down on Kashi’s bed and starts to pluck at his razai with anxious fingers. ‘Bumboo Todi? No, Dogra, you poor, sad, fucked-up choot, no! Stay away from bloody Bumboo Todi! BT, bro BT!’

‘It won’t be a bad trip, Walli!’ Kashi says indignantly. ‘I’m not a kid any more.’

‘Dogra, mere bhai.’ Walli’s voice is hoarse with emotion. ‘Bumboo Todi will just bumboo your ass agai—’

‘Stop calling her Bumboo Todi!’

Walli holds up his palms placatingly. ‘Okay, okay, sorry! But getting back on Bambi Todi’s radar is a bad bad bad idea! You’re always gonna resent her for putting you through so much shit, and she’s always gonna despise you for putting up with it.’

‘Behenchod, don’t talk like a cheap therapist!’ Kashi says irritably. He rolls away, reaches for his pillow, and hugs it pensively. His friend observes that his face has softened and his eyes have a faraway look.

‘It was so nice meeting her again. It was easy, it was chill … maybe because we’re both grown up now!’ He turns glowing eyes on Walli. ‘I think we’re finally ready to be pals again.’

‘Pals?’ Walli scoffs disbelievingly. ‘You – Kashi chutiya Dogra – are going to coax her – Bambi tigress Todi – to crawl obediently into a best-friend-sized cage and stay there?’

‘Yeah,’ Kashi replies doggedly.

‘She’ll bite your fucking head off, then have sex with your writhing body,’ Walli says bluntly.

Kashi’s eyes blaze with sudden, disproportionate fury. ‘What the hell, Walli!’

They stare at each other for a hot, angry moment, then Walli shrugs and backs off the bed. ‘Whatever bro, I have a meeting – haul your ass out of bed and shut the goddam front door.’

‘Why can’t Kalra do it?’ Kashi mutters.

‘He stayed the night at his chachi’s.’

Reluctantly, Kashi wraps his razai tightly around himself, gets out of bed and hobbles to the door. Walli hovers impatiently.

‘And let Kamala didi in, or the bins won’t be emptied. Again.’

‘Have a nice day, honey!’ Kashi says sarcastically and shuts the door in Walli’s face, cutting off the stream of abuses.

He stumbles back into bed and is staring moodily into the distance when his phone rings. He answers it.

‘Akash Dogra?’ a voice asks.

‘Yes?’

‘Sir, this is the Crime Branch cell, Chanakyapuri. We are calling from the Delhi Turf Club. Your client Leo Matthews has been found dead and we need your assistance immediately.’

4

Pinko Hathni

Sipping a cup of tea that is neither sweet nor milky enough, and longing for a spicy aloo patty to go with it, Bhavani Singh sits back in the smelly little room the DTC insists on calling a ‘Command Centre’ and addresses the eager young computer operator in the baseball cap.

‘What’s your name, beta?’

‘Ram Palat, sir.’

‘Why is there only one security camera in the gym, Ram Palat?’

‘Sir, there are two – one for upstairs and one for downstairs. They are sufficient, sir! The placement is really very good!’

‘Okay.’ Bhavani nods. ‘Are you ready to watch the footage, sardar ji?’

This to a tiny, wizened turbaned Sikh in a blue blazer, emblazoned with a Precor ascot on its breast pocket, sitting on a chair with his feet not quite touching the floor.

‘Yes,’ the sardar replies in a fluting, bird-like little voice. ‘By all means, let’s watch!’

Ram Palat presses play.

‘Yeh hui Leo sa’ab ki entry, sir … sabse pehle he goes to the fridge, takes out a flask and drinks it till it’s empty. Then he starts stretching … phir twunty minutes fast running, uske baad … push-ups … bicep curls…’ His voice trails away.

Bhavani sips his tea and watches the silent screen. It is the first time he has seen the dead man alive – and also the first time he has seen such perfected masculine beauty in action. Even on the silent, low-res, black-and-white CCTV camera footage, Leo’s workout makes for hypnotic viewing. Watching him, Bhavani starts to feel decidedly bloated and unfit. Aaj se aloo patty band, he decides.

‘It’s coming, sir,’ Ram Palat says eagerly. ‘He is walking to the bench now. Look.’

Panting lightly, his chest moving up and down, Leo wipes his face with a hand towel, then approaches the bench press. The bar is already loaded and ready.

Hitching up his track pants slightly, he sits on the bench, then lowers himself into position below the bar. His sneakered feet rest on the ground, flexed lightly.

‘He is lifting hundred and twenty kgs sir,’ Ram Palat says in awe. ‘I calculated.’

‘Three-three plates of twenty kg each, stacked and balanced absolutely correctly.’ Flutes the tiny sardar. ‘No error so far.’

On the monitor,