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

arguing with Ajay Kumar. And Ajay Kumar subsequently vanished.’

‘But he was nat arguing with General Mehra was he, sir?’ Bhavani says persuasively. ‘He was arguing with the Aggarwal boy. Where does the general fit into it?’

The chief gives an exasperated exclamation. ‘Arrey, this Aggarwal had been arguing with Ajay Kumar – about the price or the quality of the drugs or something else drug-related – so Ajay Kumar was already in a bad mood – then he must have found the general canoodling with his wife, lost his cool, pounced on the wife to beat her, prompting the general to play the hero and shoot him! Everybody was clearly getting high and happy at this big engagement party! No, Bhavani, you’ve been given a long rope on this one, you’ve had your little junket to Kolkata, now the time has come to bite the bullet.’

‘Sir, but what is the hurry?’ Bhavani asks. ‘We have only been on the case for two weeks—’

‘Yes, but it keeps coming up in the news, and it looks bad for the department if we don’t crack it soon!’

Bhavani’s expression grows stubborn. ‘But we are nat cracking it, sir, we are crooking it.’

‘Enough!’ the chief thunders. ‘I have been given my orders and I have given you yours! You will arrest General Mehra tomorrow. Is that quite clear?’

‘It is because he is too popular, hain na, sir?’ There is a peculiar, mocking edge to his subordinate’s voice.

The chief looks up sharply. The old ACP is sitting back in his chair, his expression sardonic. There is nothing genial about his face now. His eyes – wise, all-knowing eyes – are glittering strangely.

‘Rubbish!’ the chief says uncomfortably.

‘No, no,’ Bhavani says mildly. ‘We completely understand. It is nat the Pakistanis and the anti-national elements in the Opposition party who want to destroy General Mehra’s reputation and legacy, it is his so-called friends and supporters in the ruling party! He is invited to every news channel debate, he is hailed as the architect of the surgical strikes wherever he goes, he is applauded louder than the esteemed defense minister, Govardhan Ruia sa’ab at public meetings, and of course Govardhan Ruia cannat have that. So he himself has issued instructions to have Behra Mehra taken down a peg or two, and that is why the general’s service revolver has ended up in the kitchen garden mud. Are we nat correct, sir?’

The chief’s face is pale with suppressed rage. He looks furtively about the room, leans forward and lowers his voice. ‘Bhavani, we could both lose our jobs. Just go out there an—’

‘Yes, yes, we know,’ Bhavani Singh replies resignedly. ‘Just go out there and arrest the general tomorrow.’

In the sunny, potted-plants-filled living room of their Sector-44 house in Noida, Kashi and his sister are trying to revive a teenage ritual upon a Sikkimese carpet festooned with snow lions and dragons.

‘I’m tilting! Kashi, I’m scared! Stop it, you choot. Stop! Or you’ll give yourself a hernia. I’m calling Ma – Maaaaaaaaaa!’

Natasha is sitting cross-legged, precariously balanced on her brother’s back as he does push-ups.

‘Five … six … seh … seh …’ He collapses onto the carpet with a groan. ‘What the fuck, Nattu, you got fat!’

‘Haw!’ She tilts nimbly off his back. ‘You got weak, you poor fish, don’t blame me.’

‘Maybe I did,’ he admits, still lying face down on the carpet, flushed and out of breath. ‘Shit, I used to be able to do ten push-ups with you on my back, easy.’

She tousles his hair affectionately. ‘You got older, Kashua, it happens to everybody.’

Kashi sits up, scowling. ‘It’s all this soft-living and drinking on the weekends. I’m going to practice—’

‘Law,’ she tells him firmly. ‘You practice law. Not weird work-out routines, okay?’

He gets to his feet, massaging his shoulders gingerly, rotating his arms forwards, then backwards.

‘Okay.’

She leans against the legs of the sofa and watches him with narrowed eyes as he walks about the room, sipping from his cup of coffee, then raising his shirt to check out his abs in the sideboard mirror.

‘Spit it out, little bro,’ she says. ‘It’s your last chance. And you know you want to. Why have you crawled back to mummy–daddy’s house with your tail between your legs? Kya hui?’

He flops down on the carpet beside her, and stares up at the ceiling. ‘You think you’re so smart, Natti-the-tatti.’

‘Is it Kuhu?’ she asks sympathetically. ‘D’you think she’s swinging some hot tribal contractor up in the Kalahandi hills?’

His jaw drops. ‘What the hell, I never even thought of that! Wow, thanks a lot, bro!’

‘Don’t mention it, bro,’ Natasha says airily. ‘She’s such a smart girl, I thought she would’ve got bored with you. What has it been? A year?’

He nods. ‘Yeah.’

‘Ask her to marry you,’ Natasha says seriously.

‘But I’m only twenty-five!’

‘Yeah, well, she won’t say yes right away, obviously! Just let her know that your intentions are long-term. They are, aren’t they?’

Kashi nods. ‘Oh yes …’

Natasha looks at him critically. ‘Then why’re you looking so fucked?’

His eyes grow troubled. ‘I just wish … I wish I had met her earlier, you know? She’s so simple to love, so straightforward.’

‘You make her sound like a moron.’

‘She’s not a moron. I think my whole life would’ve been different if I’d met her earlier. But it may be too late now … I may never be able to love her with all of my heart – like she deserves to be loved.’

Natasha pokes his ribs with her big toe sympathetically. ‘It’s Bambi Todi, isn’t it? You’ve been hanging out with her again. After you met at the club that day.’

He nods.

‘You’ve had sex?’

He rears up, revolted. ‘No! I have a girlfriend! Christ, Nattu!’

‘Well, thank God, you remember!’ She rolls her eyes. ‘And?’

He glares at her. ‘And what?’

‘And is it as bad as before?’ she presses.

His eyes are agonized. ‘I don’t know!’ He lies back on the carpet again, raking his hair off his forehead and staring at the ceiling. ‘Nattu, is it possible to love