Role play Ideas/ theme
- Thread starterUmakant007
- Start date
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((Hi. It's been a year long hiatus & it's evident in my fingers. I tried my luck in typing a new plot.. hope you guys like it)
FAMOUS BUSINESSMAN FOUND DEATH IN HIS BEDROOM.
Eminent businessman Jatin Maheshwari (63) was found dead in his bedroom this morning. His body was tethered to the bed with chains. Sources quote that his soul had passed away when he was engaged in oral intimacy with his mistress, who has been arrested by the police for interrogation....
When Somraj read that in the newspaper, he couldn't help but chuckle. "A bj that sends the guy to heaven.." He stared at the ceiling with a sigh. "Rich guys get all that luck". Little did he realise that his dry humour would land him into such an awkward task. Somraj, the young & aspiring lawyer has joined the Tejas law firm, & with two victories in the court trial he was showing great potential.
This morning, when he sat at his table he was summoned by the CEO of Tejas firm, Dayanand Tejas himself.
"I'm sure you've read today's paper, Som". He cut to the chase as soon as he entered.
"Yeah.. that Jatin Maheshwari incident? Such a tragedy.."
"Cut the crap, Som". Dayanand took a long drag from his cigar & let out a long blow. "I know what was going on in your mind. Neither you or I are that innocent.
Let's get to the point". He tapped his cigar on the ashtray & dropped some ash. "Our firm is going to represent the mistress, Miss Yamini. I want you to handle the case".
Somraj found himself in a little uncomfortable position. The media was heavily trolling them both. And Jatin Maheshwari had held up a good image during his lifetime; donations, social works & all. His family had filed the case that Miss Yamini had honeytrapped Mr. Jatin into his death. This was going to be a tricky ride. "But sir, the public reputation.."
"Do your best, Somraj". Dayanand looked up directly into his eyes. He had this cunning gaze that immediately put the targets at unease. Countless times, the clients failed to hold their cool under the pressure of that gaze. "Don't let the name of our company down"
((Hi. It's been a year long hiatus & it's evident in my fingers. I tried my luck in typing a new plot.. hope you guys like it)
A CONSULTATION IN PLEASURE
PART 1
PART 1
FAMOUS BUSINESSMAN FOUND DEATH IN HIS BEDROOM.
Eminent businessman Jatin Maheshwari (63) was found dead in his bedroom this morning. His body was tethered to the bed with chains. Sources quote that his soul had passed away when he was engaged in oral intimacy with his mistress, who has been arrested by the police for interrogation....
When Somraj read that in the newspaper, he couldn't help but chuckle. "A bj that sends the guy to heaven.." He stared at the ceiling with a sigh. "Rich guys get all that luck". Little did he realise that his dry humour would land him into such an awkward task. Somraj, the young & aspiring lawyer has joined the Tejas law firm, & with two victories in the court trial he was showing great potential.
This morning, when he sat at his table he was summoned by the CEO of Tejas firm, Dayanand Tejas himself.
"I'm sure you've read today's paper, Som". He cut to the chase as soon as he entered.
"Yeah.. that Jatin Maheshwari incident? Such a tragedy.."
"Cut the crap, Som". Dayanand took a long drag from his cigar & let out a long blow. "I know what was going on in your mind. Neither you or I are that innocent.
Let's get to the point". He tapped his cigar on the ashtray & dropped some ash. "Our firm is going to represent the mistress, Miss Yamini. I want you to handle the case".
Somraj found himself in a little uncomfortable position. The media was heavily trolling them both. And Jatin Maheshwari had held up a good image during his lifetime; donations, social works & all. His family had filed the case that Miss Yamini had honeytrapped Mr. Jatin into his death. This was going to be a tricky ride. "But sir, the public reputation.."
"Do your best, Somraj". Dayanand looked up directly into his eyes. He had this cunning gaze that immediately put the targets at unease. Countless times, the clients failed to hold their cool under the pressure of that gaze. "Don't let the name of our company down"
A CONSULTATION IN PLEASURE
PART 2
PART 2
As he stood at the door of jail, Somraj adjusted his collar uncomfortably. Just today he woke up to his own dry humour & it landed him right here. His name would be public, and even if he won, he'd definitely get the brunts of all the trolling. This was a high stake.
With a deep breath Somraj muttered a quick prayer & walked into the consultation room of the jail. And for a moment, he was awestruck. If high profiles are what the riches dated, Miss Yamini had to be amongst the topclass.
Even when she was dressed in the shabby prison uniform, she had a particular glamour that he simply couldn't ignore. Her hair was combed straight that rolled down to her strong shoulders, encasing her round pretty face. How old was she? Somraj tried to recall the casesheet. 45 years. And she had maintained her stature with utmost care. Her prison uniform hugged the shapely curves tightly, accentuating the firm busts that pressed against her arms when she leant on her chair. Her alluring eyes showed no sign of anxiety, just a trace of grief.
Even in the confinement of prison, she carried herself with grace.
Somraj felt his heart pacing up against his ribs.
Miss Yamini looked up at her lawyer & smiled shortly. Then she motioned towards the chair.
"Miss Yamini, I'm advocate Somraj Mukherjee. I'm here to represent you in the court on behalf of Tejas law firm". Somraj's brain poured out the introduction in hectic flow.
Yamini's demeanor barely changed. Her eyes simply conveyed the sadness she felt at the demise of her client.
"But in order to protect you I'll need every detail. So, please don't hide any facts". Somraj tried bringing back his brisk professionalism.
"Yes, I understand". Yamini replied shortly. There was no break in her voice. No pretence of sultry pursuance . It was calm. She was a true professional. "Ask away whatever you want to know" She traced a strand of her hair away from her face with her index. Somraj's eyes couldn't help but follow her finger for that moment.
"Right so, could you please tell me what actually happened that night?"
Yamini narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. Then she began.
"Mr. Jatin called me over to his room last night. He had a prior appointment that had been postponed before. We engaged in our session, and he passed away in the middle of it".
Somraj had read that much in the newspaper. He had to be more precise in his questions.
"Why was the appointment postponed before?"
"His wife demanded some time together. He had to change his dates". Yamini replied promptly.
"Ah. Did he appear different than before? Anything unusual?"
Yamini looked at Som. Her eyes distant, her mind deep in thought. "He was happy. We were meeting each other after several months".
Som found it a little unusual. But then again, Mr. Jatin was a busy person. And for the last few months he was starting a project on private healthcare. Not to mention his marriage. A separation of few months was plausible.
"Did you know that Mr. Jatin had a heart condition?"
Yamini's eyebrow raised a few millimetres. "Not that I'm aware of. He had a stroke three months ago. I had been working him over for that".
"I beg your pardon?"
"I had him following a strict schedule. Unless he followed it, I wouldn't have him enjoy me".
"Did he also use Viagra?"
"Yes. It was his personal choice to take a pill before he started".
"And he also used inhalers?"
Yamini's eyes narrowed a little.
"When I met him, about three years ago, he had anxiety issues. He felt breathless. He used inhalers then. But he preferred to get intense with me. So I had him work for it. He hasn't been using it for the last two years".
Som tapped on the evidence sheet. "He used inhaler just before he met you".
Yamini's expressions hardened. She felt betrayed. "He would never.."
"I'm sorry Miss Yamini. But the opposition would lap up this as evidence & use against you. Our only bet is to establish you as a capable.. mistress. Is there any other client that I can get a hold of? Someone who would testify in your favour?"
Yamini smiled wryly. "It doesn't work like that, Som. In our line of business, privacy holds the utmost essence. And every client trusts us to hold that". She suddenly leant ahead, causing her body to press against the edge of the table as she stared in Som's eyes. "No matter what happens, I cannot allow you to tarnish my reputation by revealing my other clients".
Som stayed silent. His mind clawing in the darkness for a way out.
"There's.. a way.." he slowly muttered, gnawing on this crazy idea that had formulated in his brain. "What if we create a new client? Someone who could testify reliably for you?"
Yamini's eyebrows furrowed. "In this jail? Who?"
Som's eyes were sparkling. "...Me!"
Yamini now saw what he was thinking. Her eyes softened into an amused grin. "How old are you, boy?"
"25" Som replied.
"I like you, Somraj Mukherjee. You have an interesting brain"
(After a long time.. no wonder it will turn out bad)
'Everyday I wake up, then I start to break up
Lonely is a man without love.
Everyday I start out, then I cry my heart out
Lonely is a man without love'.
The song was the first to greet me when I opened my eyes from the stupor.
The room was dimly lit. The sharp smell of tobacco hung in the air, along with a putrid nauseous one.
I looked around only to realise that the room wasn't mine. Incredulous, I reached for the phone that was ringing with the song. As much as I could already guess, it wasn't my phone either. It laid near me, but as I started picking it up I noticed that it was pulled down by added weight. Like somebody was holding it down with everything they'd got.
I snatched the phone up & checked the screen. It was from 'Hubby'. Clearly, not meant for me.
With a ginger expression I turned the phone as a torch to check around. And the very first thing to meet my eyes was enough to make me freeze & nauseate in horror.
The bloodied body of the phone's owner lay right beside me. Her lapis blue dress was covered in dried blood, & so was the bedsheet. The blood had stained my clothes as well.
In full panic, I jumped off the bed & crashed against the night lamp.
'Where am I? What the heck happened here?!'
Before I could process it all, a heavy thud sounded on the door.
"Sharu, open the door! Open the door dammit!"
Shuddering in pain, I somehow started scuttling in the room for an exit. A window! Yes! That's what I needed!
Without even a thought how many storeys up I was, I jumped. Much to my luck, it was the second floor. I managed to stand up only with a fractured leg & dislocated shoulder, & hurried for the road wrecking my mind to remember anything at all related to the mayhem that I left back.
Nothing. A total blank.
But suddenly, I realised that all of this, the murder, had something to do with a guy named Dhruv.
I am 23 years old from Kolkata. My name is Akash. For the past 2 years I have been trying to cope up with sleepwalking. I wake up to find myself at places I've never ever visited before. That including the beds of attractive ladies sleeping by my side, mostly in their mid 30's or 40's. Sometimes I woke up in a bar, naked among people drunk till they knew nothing.
What surprised me further was their demeanor. None of them were hostile, rather they were all looking up at me in bravado.
I have tried my luck to have girls before. Only to hit no luck ever. But this.. This surprised me further, since nobody talked about any contacts later. Everyone was hush hush about me being around, everybody just called me 'Boss'. But they only liked me around when nobody else was about. And once when I met a lady at the department store, she acted like she didn't even recognise me. (Not that I do know her either, but..). All she said was, "Stay away from me, Dhruv". I never heard of her after that. Never saw her.
Anyways, I have tried everything to stay awake. Trying to solve puzzles, read books, watch horror movies... But until now, it hasn't got any good results. And to be really absolutely honest, I was trying to discover about my sleepwalk, but now it's just too freaking late. Now, I'm stuck as a murder & fugitive. That too of the wife of a dangerous man. Man who will stop at nothing to have his revenge.
'Everyday I wake up, then I start to break up
Lonely is a man without love.
Everyday I start out, then I cry my heart out
Lonely is a man without love'.
The song was the first to greet me when I opened my eyes from the stupor.
The room was dimly lit. The sharp smell of tobacco hung in the air, along with a putrid nauseous one.
I looked around only to realise that the room wasn't mine. Incredulous, I reached for the phone that was ringing with the song. As much as I could already guess, it wasn't my phone either. It laid near me, but as I started picking it up I noticed that it was pulled down by added weight. Like somebody was holding it down with everything they'd got.
I snatched the phone up & checked the screen. It was from 'Hubby'. Clearly, not meant for me.
With a ginger expression I turned the phone as a torch to check around. And the very first thing to meet my eyes was enough to make me freeze & nauseate in horror.
The bloodied body of the phone's owner lay right beside me. Her lapis blue dress was covered in dried blood, & so was the bedsheet. The blood had stained my clothes as well.
In full panic, I jumped off the bed & crashed against the night lamp.
'Where am I? What the heck happened here?!'
Before I could process it all, a heavy thud sounded on the door.
"Sharu, open the door! Open the door dammit!"
Shuddering in pain, I somehow started scuttling in the room for an exit. A window! Yes! That's what I needed!
Without even a thought how many storeys up I was, I jumped. Much to my luck, it was the second floor. I managed to stand up only with a fractured leg & dislocated shoulder, & hurried for the road wrecking my mind to remember anything at all related to the mayhem that I left back.
Nothing. A total blank.
But suddenly, I realised that all of this, the murder, had something to do with a guy named Dhruv.
I am 23 years old from Kolkata. My name is Akash. For the past 2 years I have been trying to cope up with sleepwalking. I wake up to find myself at places I've never ever visited before. That including the beds of attractive ladies sleeping by my side, mostly in their mid 30's or 40's. Sometimes I woke up in a bar, naked among people drunk till they knew nothing.
What surprised me further was their demeanor. None of them were hostile, rather they were all looking up at me in bravado.
I have tried my luck to have girls before. Only to hit no luck ever. But this.. This surprised me further, since nobody talked about any contacts later. Everyone was hush hush about me being around, everybody just called me 'Boss'. But they only liked me around when nobody else was about. And once when I met a lady at the department store, she acted like she didn't even recognise me. (Not that I do know her either, but..). All she said was, "Stay away from me, Dhruv". I never heard of her after that. Never saw her.
Anyways, I have tried everything to stay awake. Trying to solve puzzles, read books, watch horror movies... But until now, it hasn't got any good results. And to be really absolutely honest, I was trying to discover about my sleepwalk, but now it's just too freaking late. Now, I'm stuck as a murder & fugitive. That too of the wife of a dangerous man. Man who will stop at nothing to have his revenge.
...
It was just another day for Ms. Kavya in the metro. After a long stressful day at work, that including an overtime, she was just lucky enough to catch the last metro back to her apartment.
The late night metro was almost empty, and she had nothing much to do either. Taking out that last pieces of cookies she had saved in her little lunchbox, she absentmindedly started browsing through her phone.
As she settled herself in, her eyes vaguely fell on a man sitting across from her. Avoiding eye contact, she shot a quick glance at him. The man was engrossed in a paperback notebook. His one hand supported the notebook on his palm, the other jotted down something in quick succession.
Her curiosity getting the best of her, Kavya kept sneaking glances at the man, while pretending to scroll through something on her screen.
The man had an understated charisma in his looks. His loose-fitting jacket over the well suited blue shirt & denims framing his slim, fit body was stylish. His warm eyes had tiny smile around the corners. His lips flicked into subtle expression, with a soft smile. Probably reacting to whatever he noted down in the pages. There was no ring in the fingers of his hand writing on the notebook.
Even more intrigued, Kavya shifted her seat, trying to catch a glimpse of his expressive face & his maddenly hidden notebook cover.
What could be so interesting? She just had to know, she told herself.
Casually, she leant back in her seat to get a better angle. Still his hand kept a firm barrier to her vision.
Kavya tried to hide a frown. He was now being frustrating. It's not like it was his fault or anything, she had to admit. She was the one being creepy & trying to sneak a peek. It's just a meet by chance. Either of their station would come, and they'd leave. Still, her mind refused to let go of the curiosity.
She shifted her gaze to her phone without actually reading a single word. Her curiosity started to grow into a compulsion. Maybe it had something to do with how his lips made her belly flutter when it shifted into those little charming smiles.
Finally, he lifted his leg to shift his position, going ahead to turn the page. Revealing the scene to Kavya's prying eyes.
It was a rather a sketch he was making, with some notes at the foot of it. A topless damsel lay back limp in the arms of a bare-chested man with rippling muscles. The man's finger was probing onto the lady's abdomen, as he watched his companion in utmost interest.
Kavya's eyes widened in surprise. 'It's one of those trashy romance artist & writers!' she thought.
She totally had not expected this.
At that moment she glanced up from the drawing, her eyes fell on the stranger looking straight back at her. His fingers frozen over the pen, a guilty expression spread over his face.
Kavya hurriedly tried to dilute the situation.
"Hey, don't worry, I love a hot & heavy paperback notebook every now & then". She said with a reassuring smile. "And the sketch is good. I guess something really well going in your mind?"
Relaxing down now, the man held up the notebook, with a sheepish look in his face.
"To be honest, the plot is still in motion. But I could not stop pouring my visuals on the *paper. You know what I mean?"
Kavya giggled in appreciation & nodded. Putting her palm under her chin, she leant ahead to take a good view of the sketch, then its artist.
"Oh, so you like heavy bosoms and thrusting & all that?" She teased. "You look too sophisticated to be drawn to that kind of thing".
The stranger laughed out, almost rippling from the impact. Raising his hand in defense, he replied in a mock offense. "You do me wrong, Milady. I am a man of many tastes. I just like to give my thoughts a satisfying, sensual killing ending".
Kavya's eyebrow raised appreciatively. Shifting her face to press her cheek on her palm. "Hmm interesting. So you have killer imaginations. Tell me more about it".
He shrugged, laughing a little. "You know, touch, feel, some ecstasy, & then a good soulful ending. I don't want to be more.. descriptive about it".
Kavya placed the back of her hand on her forehead, the other one on her chest, faking a half swoon. "Don't worry. I won't faint on you".
Hearing him chuckle softly, she looked at him with both hands on her chest. "Don't worry. I'm a grown lady with imaginations. You could be s descriptive as you want with me. I can handle it".
The man's eyes glimmered for a moment. As she leant back, Kavya noticed his eyes run down the generous curves of her body, after lingering for a moment at the hint of crevice of her bosom. She felt the blush on her face quickly, somehow feeling both annoyed & flattered at the same time.
"What is the plot about, Mr. Artist?" she asked, as if an indication for him to look up in her eyes.
"Actually, I'm a serial killer". The man replied casually. "I'm just thinking of the way how to end it both with aesthetics & ecstacy". He shrugged lightly.
Kavya stared at his face for a few moments, then burst out into a hearty laugh. He must hv a really good humor, she thought to herself.
Composing herself back with great difficulty, she questioned back. "And what does that hv to do with all sensuality?"
"It is the preparations. Without the foreplay, the ending will not be satisfying". He replied. There was a passion in his voice which Kavya could not ignore. It only made her attract even more towards him.
She would love to hear some more about it, but her station was rapidly approaching.
Kavya rose reluctantly from her seat, adjusting her outfit. "So, Mr. Killer, do you hv a name & number? Or do you approach your partner uncalled?"
"Actually", the man slipped a hand in his pocket & produced a small card. "Here. My name, contact. I am a masseur, but that's my profession". He chuckled. "Isn't it unfair to hv your contact for the same?"
Kavya giggled & produced a small chit from her side bag. Jotting down her name & phone number quickly, she extended it at him. She shivered softly as their skin touched during the exchange. She did not know she had been aroused that much!
"Looking forward to meet you again, Mr. Handsome Killer". She winked, as she headed for the door. "I'll be calling you soon".
"Even if you don't", The man replied, "I might just come for you". He smirked as he tapped his pen against the notebook binding.
For some reasons, it sent butterflies down her stomach. But there was no time to ponder about it. She walked out of the metro hurriedly, eager to get back to her house.
** ** ** **
The light from the candles shone against Kavya's bare skin, as she lay stretched in the comfortable bed. Closing her eyes, she tried keeping her breath long & composed. Still, short gasps bursted in between without warning. Her hands trembled.
She knew he was going to touch her soon. Just the thought of his hands sent a rush of anticipation and fear through her body. She knew, she had no escape. He was not joking about his passion, nor was he joking about reaching out to her..
It was just another day for Ms. Kavya in the metro. After a long stressful day at work, that including an overtime, she was just lucky enough to catch the last metro back to her apartment.
The late night metro was almost empty, and she had nothing much to do either. Taking out that last pieces of cookies she had saved in her little lunchbox, she absentmindedly started browsing through her phone.
As she settled herself in, her eyes vaguely fell on a man sitting across from her. Avoiding eye contact, she shot a quick glance at him. The man was engrossed in a paperback notebook. His one hand supported the notebook on his palm, the other jotted down something in quick succession.
Her curiosity getting the best of her, Kavya kept sneaking glances at the man, while pretending to scroll through something on her screen.
The man had an understated charisma in his looks. His loose-fitting jacket over the well suited blue shirt & denims framing his slim, fit body was stylish. His warm eyes had tiny smile around the corners. His lips flicked into subtle expression, with a soft smile. Probably reacting to whatever he noted down in the pages. There was no ring in the fingers of his hand writing on the notebook.
Even more intrigued, Kavya shifted her seat, trying to catch a glimpse of his expressive face & his maddenly hidden notebook cover.
What could be so interesting? She just had to know, she told herself.
Casually, she leant back in her seat to get a better angle. Still his hand kept a firm barrier to her vision.
Kavya tried to hide a frown. He was now being frustrating. It's not like it was his fault or anything, she had to admit. She was the one being creepy & trying to sneak a peek. It's just a meet by chance. Either of their station would come, and they'd leave. Still, her mind refused to let go of the curiosity.
She shifted her gaze to her phone without actually reading a single word. Her curiosity started to grow into a compulsion. Maybe it had something to do with how his lips made her belly flutter when it shifted into those little charming smiles.
Finally, he lifted his leg to shift his position, going ahead to turn the page. Revealing the scene to Kavya's prying eyes.
It was a rather a sketch he was making, with some notes at the foot of it. A topless damsel lay back limp in the arms of a bare-chested man with rippling muscles. The man's finger was probing onto the lady's abdomen, as he watched his companion in utmost interest.
Kavya's eyes widened in surprise. 'It's one of those trashy romance artist & writers!' she thought.
She totally had not expected this.
At that moment she glanced up from the drawing, her eyes fell on the stranger looking straight back at her. His fingers frozen over the pen, a guilty expression spread over his face.
Kavya hurriedly tried to dilute the situation.
"Hey, don't worry, I love a hot & heavy paperback notebook every now & then". She said with a reassuring smile. "And the sketch is good. I guess something really well going in your mind?"
Relaxing down now, the man held up the notebook, with a sheepish look in his face.
"To be honest, the plot is still in motion. But I could not stop pouring my visuals on the *paper. You know what I mean?"
Kavya giggled in appreciation & nodded. Putting her palm under her chin, she leant ahead to take a good view of the sketch, then its artist.
"Oh, so you like heavy bosoms and thrusting & all that?" She teased. "You look too sophisticated to be drawn to that kind of thing".
The stranger laughed out, almost rippling from the impact. Raising his hand in defense, he replied in a mock offense. "You do me wrong, Milady. I am a man of many tastes. I just like to give my thoughts a satisfying, sensual killing ending".
Kavya's eyebrow raised appreciatively. Shifting her face to press her cheek on her palm. "Hmm interesting. So you have killer imaginations. Tell me more about it".
He shrugged, laughing a little. "You know, touch, feel, some ecstasy, & then a good soulful ending. I don't want to be more.. descriptive about it".
Kavya placed the back of her hand on her forehead, the other one on her chest, faking a half swoon. "Don't worry. I won't faint on you".
Hearing him chuckle softly, she looked at him with both hands on her chest. "Don't worry. I'm a grown lady with imaginations. You could be s descriptive as you want with me. I can handle it".
The man's eyes glimmered for a moment. As she leant back, Kavya noticed his eyes run down the generous curves of her body, after lingering for a moment at the hint of crevice of her bosom. She felt the blush on her face quickly, somehow feeling both annoyed & flattered at the same time.
"What is the plot about, Mr. Artist?" she asked, as if an indication for him to look up in her eyes.
"Actually, I'm a serial killer". The man replied casually. "I'm just thinking of the way how to end it both with aesthetics & ecstacy". He shrugged lightly.
Kavya stared at his face for a few moments, then burst out into a hearty laugh. He must hv a really good humor, she thought to herself.
Composing herself back with great difficulty, she questioned back. "And what does that hv to do with all sensuality?"
"It is the preparations. Without the foreplay, the ending will not be satisfying". He replied. There was a passion in his voice which Kavya could not ignore. It only made her attract even more towards him.
She would love to hear some more about it, but her station was rapidly approaching.
Kavya rose reluctantly from her seat, adjusting her outfit. "So, Mr. Killer, do you hv a name & number? Or do you approach your partner uncalled?"
"Actually", the man slipped a hand in his pocket & produced a small card. "Here. My name, contact. I am a masseur, but that's my profession". He chuckled. "Isn't it unfair to hv your contact for the same?"
Kavya giggled & produced a small chit from her side bag. Jotting down her name & phone number quickly, she extended it at him. She shivered softly as their skin touched during the exchange. She did not know she had been aroused that much!
"Looking forward to meet you again, Mr. Handsome Killer". She winked, as she headed for the door. "I'll be calling you soon".
"Even if you don't", The man replied, "I might just come for you". He smirked as he tapped his pen against the notebook binding.
For some reasons, it sent butterflies down her stomach. But there was no time to ponder about it. She walked out of the metro hurriedly, eager to get back to her house.
** ** ** **
The light from the candles shone against Kavya's bare skin, as she lay stretched in the comfortable bed. Closing her eyes, she tried keeping her breath long & composed. Still, short gasps bursted in between without warning. Her hands trembled.
She knew he was going to touch her soon. Just the thought of his hands sent a rush of anticipation and fear through her body. She knew, she had no escape. He was not joking about his passion, nor was he joking about reaching out to her..
...
Mrs. Vanshika came & sat before her laptop screen in a dejected mood. The news that Only Fans had decided to ban explicit contents had dropped just then, and it hit her mood hard.
Apart from her daily task as a school teacher, this had been, of late, her side business. Not that she had started it just as a strict requirement for money, but in an app where your fans are willing to rain riches on you, success would be counted in terms of currency. And she had been pretty successful, so to speak. But her business had grown into a passion by now. A burning passion for her art.
"I need a new admirer". She mumbled as she turned the app on. It was an odd hour perhaps, for nobody was online currently to greet her blinking dot.
'Maybe everyone is busy minding their own business, or trying to get over the latest devastation', Mrs. Vanshika thought.
As she was about to turn it off however, a notification blinked on her screen. Someone was online, and the username was new.
'Nagini Tamer?'
Mrs. Vanshika frowned, as she clicked with a curious hesitation.
The screen transitioned into the appearance of a teen, freshly bloomed into adulthood.
Mrs. Vanshika froze.
It was her own nephew, Raj who was staring back at her in the other end of the connection.
Raj for a moment was agape as well. He immediately tried looking around for a moment, appearing to enter the site by mistake. But the little charade didn't fool the teacher.
There was no denying it: Raj had recognised his aunt as well.
Mrs. Vanshika got nervous for a moment. Not only was he her nephew, even worse, he studied in the same school as she taught. To make things even grim, it was only last week.that he had scored a solid 20 out of 100 in maths & his teacher had discussed it over tea & parantha to Mrs. Vanshika, who had to contact his parents over his considerably dwindling results.
'Calm down..' Mrs. Vanshika reminded herself. 'You can just intimidate him. He's still just a teen. Piece of cake, right?' She took another look at her unexpected admirer. Fortunately, the recognition had apparently spooked him. He was fumbling on the keyboard with his right, his left working on his mouse.
'Is he shifting for another account? Maybe I was not what he was expecting'
Mrs. Vanshika couldn't help but feel relieved. Although, she had to admit that she would feel disappointed if that was the case. It was her passion, and even if he had toppled into her account by accident, it simply meant that she had succeeded in storming his hormones.
Even at the age of 39, Mrs. Vanshika knew very, very well that she was attractive. Her ample, shapely curves, vibrant black hair that rolled down to her back, and pretty, unblemished face that radiated the aging beauty had earned her plenty of hungry leers & jealous glares around. She had been very sincere about her stature, and with minutely monitored diet & yoga, she had maintained herself in her youthful gorgeousness.
That didn't spare her from the consequences though. The boredom & her divorce over a stressful marriage drove her social compass out of the axis, & her interaction with the crowd & cliques completely shot. The attention in the school, bus, and locality often drove her crazy. It was intoxicating, magnetic & she barely could keep it bottled until her inner demon rose its head.
"Raj? Is that you?" She frowned, trying to bring up the intimidating aura to its finest. "You're not old enough to be here".
"What of it?" Raj uttered, trying to hide the flinch. "I am 18".
Mrs Vanshika covered her irritation with a glare. "You should be going for sites that are suitable for you. Does bhaisa'ab know?"
"Then why are you here?" Raj leant back with crossed arms, eyes fixed on to his aunt. "It says it's a content subscription based site. I am a subscriber. You are a content creator. Am I wrong?"
Mrs. Vanshika flexed her hands. No wonder this assh*le was doing terrible. She felt like throttling him & smacking him unconscious.
"Wait till I-"
She stopped midway. What he said was true. What would she complain about? Technically, there was no denial that he was just a subscriber. Nothing wrong with that.
Raj sneered & rubbed his elbow. How badly he was enjoying this!
'Okay, not everything is gone yet. I just need to give what he wants, get him off guard to do anything. And the moment he brings out his tool.. yes, that would definitely work'.
Mrs. Vanshika calmed down, with a welcoming smile. Although the contempt was clear in her eyes.
"And what do you want me to do? Hmm? Maybe I could get you a tiny peek at your request?" She asked, leaning ahead so practically her bossoms were dangling in the screen. No man had ever resisted her low cut blouse & ample assets. Raj was no exception. He stared at her swaying deep valley for a full second before looking up at her face. "Fine. I could use a preview or two at the beginning, before I choose my request".
This brat..' Mrs. Vanshika growled under her breath & forced a chuckle. "Okay.. okay, fine. Let me see if I can-"
"Okay change of plans".
Raj shifted on his chair. His right hand slipped down. "Give me a dance presentation while you peel your attire off".
Mrs. Vanshika's eyes grew wide both in surprise & anger for a moment. Did he just…?
To her only little delight, his hand had slipped onto his bulge. A little provocation would be enough to bring out his raging temptation out of his boxers.
Mrs. Vanshika shifted back a little & lifted her hands. Even when luring her prey, she was a sincere artist. She wouldn't betray her art. She started slowly slipping her cobalt blue saree off, revealing her thin lacy blouse.
'Yes, there it is.. He is getting his buckles off..' She smirked in her mind.
'Anytime now..'
As the thin blouse slipped off her shoulders & landed on the bedsheet, she threw her torse against the screen, in an attempt to take a pic the exact moment he weilded his wood.
"No use". Raj clicked his tongue. "Not good enough".
Mrs. Vanshika frowned flabbergasted. What did this little squid just say?
"You know what, you could take a scale. I know you keep it in the drawyer beside your table. I'd love to see you applying it on yourself". Raj leant ahead with a devilish smirk.
"And the whole class can enjoy the recording too?"
Mrs. Vanshika looked at him in horror. He had been recording this whole session, from the beginning
WRETCHED DEAL
Mrs. Vanshika came & sat before her laptop screen in a dejected mood. The news that Only Fans had decided to ban explicit contents had dropped just then, and it hit her mood hard.
Apart from her daily task as a school teacher, this had been, of late, her side business. Not that she had started it just as a strict requirement for money, but in an app where your fans are willing to rain riches on you, success would be counted in terms of currency. And she had been pretty successful, so to speak. But her business had grown into a passion by now. A burning passion for her art.
"I need a new admirer". She mumbled as she turned the app on. It was an odd hour perhaps, for nobody was online currently to greet her blinking dot.
'Maybe everyone is busy minding their own business, or trying to get over the latest devastation', Mrs. Vanshika thought.
As she was about to turn it off however, a notification blinked on her screen. Someone was online, and the username was new.
'Nagini Tamer?'
Mrs. Vanshika frowned, as she clicked with a curious hesitation.
The screen transitioned into the appearance of a teen, freshly bloomed into adulthood.
Mrs. Vanshika froze.
It was her own nephew, Raj who was staring back at her in the other end of the connection.
Raj for a moment was agape as well. He immediately tried looking around for a moment, appearing to enter the site by mistake. But the little charade didn't fool the teacher.
There was no denying it: Raj had recognised his aunt as well.
Mrs. Vanshika got nervous for a moment. Not only was he her nephew, even worse, he studied in the same school as she taught. To make things even grim, it was only last week.that he had scored a solid 20 out of 100 in maths & his teacher had discussed it over tea & parantha to Mrs. Vanshika, who had to contact his parents over his considerably dwindling results.
'Calm down..' Mrs. Vanshika reminded herself. 'You can just intimidate him. He's still just a teen. Piece of cake, right?' She took another look at her unexpected admirer. Fortunately, the recognition had apparently spooked him. He was fumbling on the keyboard with his right, his left working on his mouse.
'Is he shifting for another account? Maybe I was not what he was expecting'
Mrs. Vanshika couldn't help but feel relieved. Although, she had to admit that she would feel disappointed if that was the case. It was her passion, and even if he had toppled into her account by accident, it simply meant that she had succeeded in storming his hormones.
Even at the age of 39, Mrs. Vanshika knew very, very well that she was attractive. Her ample, shapely curves, vibrant black hair that rolled down to her back, and pretty, unblemished face that radiated the aging beauty had earned her plenty of hungry leers & jealous glares around. She had been very sincere about her stature, and with minutely monitored diet & yoga, she had maintained herself in her youthful gorgeousness.
That didn't spare her from the consequences though. The boredom & her divorce over a stressful marriage drove her social compass out of the axis, & her interaction with the crowd & cliques completely shot. The attention in the school, bus, and locality often drove her crazy. It was intoxicating, magnetic & she barely could keep it bottled until her inner demon rose its head.
"Raj? Is that you?" She frowned, trying to bring up the intimidating aura to its finest. "You're not old enough to be here".
"What of it?" Raj uttered, trying to hide the flinch. "I am 18".
Mrs Vanshika covered her irritation with a glare. "You should be going for sites that are suitable for you. Does bhaisa'ab know?"
"Then why are you here?" Raj leant back with crossed arms, eyes fixed on to his aunt. "It says it's a content subscription based site. I am a subscriber. You are a content creator. Am I wrong?"
Mrs. Vanshika flexed her hands. No wonder this assh*le was doing terrible. She felt like throttling him & smacking him unconscious.
"Wait till I-"
She stopped midway. What he said was true. What would she complain about? Technically, there was no denial that he was just a subscriber. Nothing wrong with that.
Raj sneered & rubbed his elbow. How badly he was enjoying this!
'Okay, not everything is gone yet. I just need to give what he wants, get him off guard to do anything. And the moment he brings out his tool.. yes, that would definitely work'.
Mrs. Vanshika calmed down, with a welcoming smile. Although the contempt was clear in her eyes.
"And what do you want me to do? Hmm? Maybe I could get you a tiny peek at your request?" She asked, leaning ahead so practically her bossoms were dangling in the screen. No man had ever resisted her low cut blouse & ample assets. Raj was no exception. He stared at her swaying deep valley for a full second before looking up at her face. "Fine. I could use a preview or two at the beginning, before I choose my request".
This brat..' Mrs. Vanshika growled under her breath & forced a chuckle. "Okay.. okay, fine. Let me see if I can-"
"Okay change of plans".
Raj shifted on his chair. His right hand slipped down. "Give me a dance presentation while you peel your attire off".
Mrs. Vanshika's eyes grew wide both in surprise & anger for a moment. Did he just…?
To her only little delight, his hand had slipped onto his bulge. A little provocation would be enough to bring out his raging temptation out of his boxers.
Mrs. Vanshika shifted back a little & lifted her hands. Even when luring her prey, she was a sincere artist. She wouldn't betray her art. She started slowly slipping her cobalt blue saree off, revealing her thin lacy blouse.
'Yes, there it is.. He is getting his buckles off..' She smirked in her mind.
'Anytime now..'
As the thin blouse slipped off her shoulders & landed on the bedsheet, she threw her torse against the screen, in an attempt to take a pic the exact moment he weilded his wood.
"No use". Raj clicked his tongue. "Not good enough".
Mrs. Vanshika frowned flabbergasted. What did this little squid just say?
"You know what, you could take a scale. I know you keep it in the drawyer beside your table. I'd love to see you applying it on yourself". Raj leant ahead with a devilish smirk.
"And the whole class can enjoy the recording too?"
Mrs. Vanshika looked at him in horror. He had been recording this whole session, from the beginning
...
(I really hope I could make it go well but, I messed up
)
'Why am I here? Why did I even THINK it was a good idea?' Ananya swore under her breath. It wasn't even a dam fifteen minutes & half a glass of Pinot Noir, & she had already started to hate the guy sitting right opposite to her. No, don't get me wrong here, Ananya did not come under any presumption that she'd like to be in that date. She had nested that passionate hate from the very first night that they got into a conversation. A deeply rooted, burning, passionate hate that had culminated into this date.
"It is the worst". Ananya sneered, only barely audible over the band music to Suryakant Rana, who sprawled comfortably on the chair opposite to her. "Let me be absolutely clear about it, but I am in no possible way going to fall for a hopeless jerk like you".
"But lo, here you are, dressed in the most glamorous attire you could think of". The sarcasm was dripping from the Rana's voice. "Trying to showcase before me how many eyes you can turn?"
Ananya grimanced at the truth of his question. Dressed immaculately in her silky black attire that clung onto her shoulders through the fine strings, she definitely was showcasing some of her skin.
Mr. Rana on the other hand, dressed in his usual jet black suit upon the red velvet shirt. And yet, both the participants of the date drew considerable attention.
"I couldn't possibly come upto a 'date' with a Rana in rugs, right?" Ananya shot back, picking up her glass & taking a small sip. She wasn't about to back off that easy. "Or you would not want to talk about the aftershave?"
Rana's eyebrows rose for a moment. So, she had noticed. Despite trying to appear 'natural', he couldn't help but apply some aftershave, just to fill the gap of his cologne. It was trace, but it was there. He groaned in his mind, getting caught by a lady like her.
Ananya, wasn't one of the most beautiful ladies he had dated. In fact, he might place her in the lower-middle tier for beauty standards, as compared to the girls that he could possibly get his hold of. But what piqued him upto the date was his curiosity.
They had met first at a mutual friend's party. Ananya was in fact, just there without a company, shifting uncomfortably in her place.
Priya, their friend was accompanying Rana until she had an emergency to attend. The party was about to go wild, but Rana wasn't yet in the mood to down the spirit into his throat. He walked upto Ananya, with his usual cockiness & stood by her side.
"Looking for a partner are you?" He chimed, toying with the glass in his hand. Ananya simply shook her head, though she did smile half heartedly at him out of courtesy.
"I'm just enjoying the music".
"The music?" Rana raised his eyebrow & then burst out laughing. "Now don't act a bore. You enjoying music but refuse to join in any fun? Get outta here!"
"I can still enjoy as I want". Ananya shrugged. "Unlike you, I'm not the one desperate for a partner".
Rana's face became tight. Him? Desperate for partner? He could just grab the waist of any girl & he needed to claim her for his. Was this girl hallucinating?
"And besides", Ananya continued, in the same uninterested expressions. "Priya might've told you that I don't dance".
"For once", Rana began, "I don't take those words of seriously. The last girl who tried selling herself as hard to get was buckled under me in the bartender's room, tirelessly screaming my name. And second, is Priya your secretary that I'll be hearing from her?"
"She's my friend". Ananya glared back at him. "And I don't see any reason to be intimidated by someone who has to beg the bartender's key to make love. Ran out of rooms?" She shrugged & walked away, leaving Rana seething in anger.
* * * * *
The entreé had just been served on the table. Rana's dish consisted of Roasted wild boar while Ananya happily munched on her chicken lollipop. The handi biriyani, yet untouched lay smoking in two pots in front of them.
Rana dug his teeth in & drew off a chunk of meat into his mouth, eyeing Ananya. He had come prepared. He had to break her. Ananya looked up curiously, only to get the last glimpse of the Rana devouring the piece in wild ferocity. Ananya chuckled softly, to his utter disgrace, & started running her tongue down the lollipop to lick up some sauce.
Rana couldn't help but notice her tongue gliding smoothly over the piece of meat. Even without trying, she could be sensual on her own accord. He had heard about her from Priya. He had come prepared with information. She excelled in yoga & academics. Laying in his arms, Priya had told him all about her. Ananya didn't need to try & become sensuous, he knew. Now he had witnessed so. He simply started plotting how he could stomp the flower under his Woodland shoes until she begged mercy
HATE DATE
(I really hope I could make it go well but, I messed up
)'Why am I here? Why did I even THINK it was a good idea?' Ananya swore under her breath. It wasn't even a dam fifteen minutes & half a glass of Pinot Noir, & she had already started to hate the guy sitting right opposite to her. No, don't get me wrong here, Ananya did not come under any presumption that she'd like to be in that date. She had nested that passionate hate from the very first night that they got into a conversation. A deeply rooted, burning, passionate hate that had culminated into this date.
"It is the worst". Ananya sneered, only barely audible over the band music to Suryakant Rana, who sprawled comfortably on the chair opposite to her. "Let me be absolutely clear about it, but I am in no possible way going to fall for a hopeless jerk like you".
"But lo, here you are, dressed in the most glamorous attire you could think of". The sarcasm was dripping from the Rana's voice. "Trying to showcase before me how many eyes you can turn?"
Ananya grimanced at the truth of his question. Dressed immaculately in her silky black attire that clung onto her shoulders through the fine strings, she definitely was showcasing some of her skin.
Mr. Rana on the other hand, dressed in his usual jet black suit upon the red velvet shirt. And yet, both the participants of the date drew considerable attention.
"I couldn't possibly come upto a 'date' with a Rana in rugs, right?" Ananya shot back, picking up her glass & taking a small sip. She wasn't about to back off that easy. "Or you would not want to talk about the aftershave?"
Rana's eyebrows rose for a moment. So, she had noticed. Despite trying to appear 'natural', he couldn't help but apply some aftershave, just to fill the gap of his cologne. It was trace, but it was there. He groaned in his mind, getting caught by a lady like her.
Ananya, wasn't one of the most beautiful ladies he had dated. In fact, he might place her in the lower-middle tier for beauty standards, as compared to the girls that he could possibly get his hold of. But what piqued him upto the date was his curiosity.
They had met first at a mutual friend's party. Ananya was in fact, just there without a company, shifting uncomfortably in her place.
Priya, their friend was accompanying Rana until she had an emergency to attend. The party was about to go wild, but Rana wasn't yet in the mood to down the spirit into his throat. He walked upto Ananya, with his usual cockiness & stood by her side.
"Looking for a partner are you?" He chimed, toying with the glass in his hand. Ananya simply shook her head, though she did smile half heartedly at him out of courtesy.
"I'm just enjoying the music".
"The music?" Rana raised his eyebrow & then burst out laughing. "Now don't act a bore. You enjoying music but refuse to join in any fun? Get outta here!"
"I can still enjoy as I want". Ananya shrugged. "Unlike you, I'm not the one desperate for a partner".
Rana's face became tight. Him? Desperate for partner? He could just grab the waist of any girl & he needed to claim her for his. Was this girl hallucinating?
"And besides", Ananya continued, in the same uninterested expressions. "Priya might've told you that I don't dance".
"For once", Rana began, "I don't take those words of seriously. The last girl who tried selling herself as hard to get was buckled under me in the bartender's room, tirelessly screaming my name. And second, is Priya your secretary that I'll be hearing from her?"
"She's my friend". Ananya glared back at him. "And I don't see any reason to be intimidated by someone who has to beg the bartender's key to make love. Ran out of rooms?" She shrugged & walked away, leaving Rana seething in anger.
* * * * *
The entreé had just been served on the table. Rana's dish consisted of Roasted wild boar while Ananya happily munched on her chicken lollipop. The handi biriyani, yet untouched lay smoking in two pots in front of them.
Rana dug his teeth in & drew off a chunk of meat into his mouth, eyeing Ananya. He had come prepared. He had to break her. Ananya looked up curiously, only to get the last glimpse of the Rana devouring the piece in wild ferocity. Ananya chuckled softly, to his utter disgrace, & started running her tongue down the lollipop to lick up some sauce.
Rana couldn't help but notice her tongue gliding smoothly over the piece of meat. Even without trying, she could be sensual on her own accord. He had heard about her from Priya. He had come prepared with information. She excelled in yoga & academics. Laying in his arms, Priya had told him all about her. Ananya didn't need to try & become sensuous, he knew. Now he had witnessed so. He simply started plotting how he could stomp the flower under his Woodland shoes until she begged mercy
...
A WORLD OF OUR OWN
For Detailed Roleplayers only!
Background:
When Abhi lost his girlfriend in the attacks of 26/11, he was nineteen years old. He hailed from an affluent family, and was doing his engineering - while his girlfriend, a neighbour who was five years older to him, was working as a hotel staff in the Royal Taj. When he saw her for the last time, there was a white sheet covering her. None of his near or dear ones knew about their relationship, and so he had stood alone as rivers of tears rolled down his cheeks.
He did not return home that night, or the next. He did not sleep much either, sitting at the same spot watching the waves crash against the shore, even as an occasional curious face came closer to check whether he was alright or not. He had felt numb, like someone had taken his soul away from him. His parents weren’t on talking terms to know of his whereabouts but there was one man who had spent the entire duration with him, albeit from afar, sitting in his car patiently watching his grandson cope with the loss.
When Abhi got up, he was there to give him a hug - no words were spoken as they drove home together. Abhi’s grandfather was one of the richest men in the country who had the resources that even the Prime Minister would envy.
The next couple of years had been spent utilizing these resources to learn about the underworld, their operations, the shakers and the movers of the world alongside training Abhi for the challenges he would face. His grandfather in the meanwhile had turned one of their restaurants “SINFUL FANTASY” into the most popular and coveted nightclubs in the city of Mumbai - a place which was frequented by the who’s who from the upper echelon of the society - from the cricketers to the politicians, the actors to the businessmen, the top brass of the police department to the most wanted criminals who’d always manage to stay on the right side of the law using their powerful connections.
What was unknown to most, was a team that was assembled by the old man himself, of people similar to Abhi, who had lost someone or the other and been devastated by the loss - who wanted to right the wrongs of the world. They were all part of the club - bartenders, waiters, dancers and singers who would mingle amongst the crowd and catch the chatter about developments - of news that had not made the newspapers, of crimes that went unpunished, of criminals who walked scot-free.
With the foundations well in place, his grandfather had handed over the business to Abhi with just a smile on his face and a couple of words - “ITS TIME!!”
Now coming to the part why I made this post :
Would need creative roleplayers to be part of this SINFUL FANTASY - boys and girls, men and women, who are willing to explore different kinds of roleplays. You could drop in your application to be part of the Team - and choose a role, if you are looking for something long term.
Or for the short term players you could just play a single character, a corrupt politician on the list for the Team, who is hunted, an underworld financer who is looking for some fun with an actress, the list can be endless.
Of course it would involve smut, but more importantly, it would involve stories, and building a lot of it. So if this idea does interest you, indeed “IT’S TIME”.
A WORLD OF OUR OWN
For Detailed Roleplayers only!
Background:
When Abhi lost his girlfriend in the attacks of 26/11, he was nineteen years old. He hailed from an affluent family, and was doing his engineering - while his girlfriend, a neighbour who was five years older to him, was working as a hotel staff in the Royal Taj. When he saw her for the last time, there was a white sheet covering her. None of his near or dear ones knew about their relationship, and so he had stood alone as rivers of tears rolled down his cheeks.
He did not return home that night, or the next. He did not sleep much either, sitting at the same spot watching the waves crash against the shore, even as an occasional curious face came closer to check whether he was alright or not. He had felt numb, like someone had taken his soul away from him. His parents weren’t on talking terms to know of his whereabouts but there was one man who had spent the entire duration with him, albeit from afar, sitting in his car patiently watching his grandson cope with the loss.
When Abhi got up, he was there to give him a hug - no words were spoken as they drove home together. Abhi’s grandfather was one of the richest men in the country who had the resources that even the Prime Minister would envy.
The next couple of years had been spent utilizing these resources to learn about the underworld, their operations, the shakers and the movers of the world alongside training Abhi for the challenges he would face. His grandfather in the meanwhile had turned one of their restaurants “SINFUL FANTASY” into the most popular and coveted nightclubs in the city of Mumbai - a place which was frequented by the who’s who from the upper echelon of the society - from the cricketers to the politicians, the actors to the businessmen, the top brass of the police department to the most wanted criminals who’d always manage to stay on the right side of the law using their powerful connections.
What was unknown to most, was a team that was assembled by the old man himself, of people similar to Abhi, who had lost someone or the other and been devastated by the loss - who wanted to right the wrongs of the world. They were all part of the club - bartenders, waiters, dancers and singers who would mingle amongst the crowd and catch the chatter about developments - of news that had not made the newspapers, of crimes that went unpunished, of criminals who walked scot-free.
With the foundations well in place, his grandfather had handed over the business to Abhi with just a smile on his face and a couple of words - “ITS TIME!!”
Now coming to the part why I made this post :
Would need creative roleplayers to be part of this SINFUL FANTASY - boys and girls, men and women, who are willing to explore different kinds of roleplays. You could drop in your application to be part of the Team - and choose a role, if you are looking for something long term.
Or for the short term players you could just play a single character, a corrupt politician on the list for the Team, who is hunted, an underworld financer who is looking for some fun with an actress, the list can be endless.
Of course it would involve smut, but more importantly, it would involve stories, and building a lot of it. So if this idea does interest you, indeed “IT’S TIME”.
...
(Welcome to the crappiest adaptation of The Queen's Gambit'. The series is really good. Give it a watch & you'll love it)
GAME OF CARDS
Cast: Aditya (17), 5'10" expertise in handling cards & various types of card games. But specialises in Poker
Mrs. Rastogi (34), 5'2" 36-28-36 Living with her adopted son Aditya
PROLOGUE
"You wanna play, Lil chump?" The guard asked in a bored tone without even a glance at the door. He was too busy hunched upon the table, shuffling cards against his partner.
The 8 years old Aditya tiptoed out from his hiding spot with a guilty expression. "I can't sleep". He apologised in a squeaky complaining tone. For his age, his voice was yet to mature enough. It was his third night in the orphanage, after his mom died in a car accident. She was an orphan as well, & therefore nobody wanted to keep the child of a "Bad Charm".
Adi, as he was called by his mom, was still having difficulties adjusting in the orphanage. His mom took utmost care to never let him feel any lack of love, & that doting just made him even more vulnerable. He had trouble falling asleep without his mom at his side.
"Well run along Chump. We got no time for ya". The guard groused as he started delivering the cards. "Or I'll tell about it to the Warden ma'am".
Adi ran towards the door in a haste, leaving behind both the guards chuckling. But after a few minutes, his head was visible peeping behind the door once again.
The second guard whispered something, & they both groaned exasperated. "Alright kiddo, listen up. It will be bad if I come catching you. Consider it a final warning". There were some hurried footsteps, but after an hour or so the timid little boy returned. This time, the guards were too invested in the game anyways. They didn't bother the little boy being an audience..
This continued for two or three nights. Aditya used to slip out of his bed, & come peep at the door. Watching the guards play with utmost interest. On the third day, one of guards signalled him to come over. At first he was scared, but he scooted over meekly. "Go get me a refill". The guard extended a glass at Adi. It was dirty, & stench of alcohol was strong. "The bottle's over there. Don't get a drop out".
Adi did as he was ordered, bringing the glass carefully pincered in his two hands.
"You wanna take a look?" The guard enquired as he took the glass from Adi. He seemed in a light mood today. "Come sit".
***********
Within a week, Adi had a thorough understanding about the deck of cards. The number of cards, the hearts, spades, clubs, diamonds, kings, queens.. He had it all in his head. He made a deck by himself out of the left overs of notebook covers, & started practising them in his room. This became his favourite pastime. The warden barely cared about the children, until they were getting good remarks from the teachers, & Adi was doing exceptional in mathematics. Things were going good with him for a month or so, until one day one of the guards mockingly asked him to join for a play.
"Now hold on dude!" the other guard objected. "He's just a kid!"
"Oh, come on.." The guard shrugged it off. "He's been watching us for a month. If anything goes south, it's him who'll get blamed for spying".
Adi won that game. Not that they gave him any real money, he just had to be content with the chips. But, they sure were amazed with the kid's observation & sleight of his hands. Soon, he was the third player joining up in the game, sometimes sneaking out with the guards to play with other street players. He was a sensation in the locality.
3 YEARS LATER
"Mr. & Mrs. Rastogi here are interested in adoption. I've had good records about you, so they wanted to meet. Say hello to them, Adi. And be good". The warden put on a pretentious smile before exitting the room.
Adi was curious, but he was happy. Finally after three years, he was getting adopted. Not many children had that fate in the orphanage. Most of the adopted were babies. The ones above three were mostly avoided as bad influence. Adi was excited inside, but he put on a calm face, appeared as good as he could manage. And the next day, he was in the car with his new parents, heading for his new home.
Mr. Rastogi didn't bother much about his wife, or his marriage for that matter. He had his job, in Goa where he was content being away from his wife. That meant that Adi was staying mostly alone with his new mother. She was trying to adapt to her motherhood, & wasn't doing a bad job at it. Adi had enough of his freedom, most of which he used in his poker practise. He had received a deck as a parting gift from the guards, which he used to shuffle all day. He didn't hv a partner though, except his own self. So he simply tried taking double turns in his room. That kept going until he found out about a poker tournament from the newspaper. It was a regional one, meaning he had to travel the next day. His mom wasn't very supportive about something like poker, but she didn't want to upset him by stopping either. So, she reluctantly gave him the permission with "Don't get too addicted". He agreed, but came back with a prize money of 5,000 rupees cash..
The next day, he was the topic of discussion partly because of his skills, but mostly because of his age. Most of them were curious about how he managed to enter the tournment at his age. There was some controversy, but he finally wiggled his way out with some enthusiastic support from the judges & players.
PRESENT DAY
"No money this month either". Mrs. Rastogi lowered the phone with a heavy heart. The lockdown had been harsh on the business & jobs alike, & Mr. Rastogi was no exception. He had to make do with the meagre amount he earned, & simply refused to hand over a single penny over to a stray child they had scooped up from the orphanage. Ration had started to run out in the house, & Mrs. Rastogi had started to grow worried. She used to stay seated at the sides of the window, staring outside hopelessly. Money was a huge issue.
Adi was with his practise still, defending his title the Regionals & the States. But the prize money couldn't sustain them monthlong.
So, he finally stepped up to his Mrs. Rastogi.
"I can start earning from plays, mother". He stated. "You can start having commissions. But, you will have to hand over the responsibilities of the house.. And yourself"
(Welcome to the crappiest adaptation of The Queen's Gambit'. The series is really good. Give it a watch & you'll love it)
GAME OF CARDS
Cast: Aditya (17), 5'10" expertise in handling cards & various types of card games. But specialises in Poker
Mrs. Rastogi (34), 5'2" 36-28-36 Living with her adopted son Aditya
PROLOGUE
"You wanna play, Lil chump?" The guard asked in a bored tone without even a glance at the door. He was too busy hunched upon the table, shuffling cards against his partner.
The 8 years old Aditya tiptoed out from his hiding spot with a guilty expression. "I can't sleep". He apologised in a squeaky complaining tone. For his age, his voice was yet to mature enough. It was his third night in the orphanage, after his mom died in a car accident. She was an orphan as well, & therefore nobody wanted to keep the child of a "Bad Charm".
Adi, as he was called by his mom, was still having difficulties adjusting in the orphanage. His mom took utmost care to never let him feel any lack of love, & that doting just made him even more vulnerable. He had trouble falling asleep without his mom at his side.
"Well run along Chump. We got no time for ya". The guard groused as he started delivering the cards. "Or I'll tell about it to the Warden ma'am".
Adi ran towards the door in a haste, leaving behind both the guards chuckling. But after a few minutes, his head was visible peeping behind the door once again.
The second guard whispered something, & they both groaned exasperated. "Alright kiddo, listen up. It will be bad if I come catching you. Consider it a final warning". There were some hurried footsteps, but after an hour or so the timid little boy returned. This time, the guards were too invested in the game anyways. They didn't bother the little boy being an audience..
This continued for two or three nights. Aditya used to slip out of his bed, & come peep at the door. Watching the guards play with utmost interest. On the third day, one of guards signalled him to come over. At first he was scared, but he scooted over meekly. "Go get me a refill". The guard extended a glass at Adi. It was dirty, & stench of alcohol was strong. "The bottle's over there. Don't get a drop out".
Adi did as he was ordered, bringing the glass carefully pincered in his two hands.
"You wanna take a look?" The guard enquired as he took the glass from Adi. He seemed in a light mood today. "Come sit".
***********
Within a week, Adi had a thorough understanding about the deck of cards. The number of cards, the hearts, spades, clubs, diamonds, kings, queens.. He had it all in his head. He made a deck by himself out of the left overs of notebook covers, & started practising them in his room. This became his favourite pastime. The warden barely cared about the children, until they were getting good remarks from the teachers, & Adi was doing exceptional in mathematics. Things were going good with him for a month or so, until one day one of the guards mockingly asked him to join for a play.
"Now hold on dude!" the other guard objected. "He's just a kid!"
"Oh, come on.." The guard shrugged it off. "He's been watching us for a month. If anything goes south, it's him who'll get blamed for spying".
Adi won that game. Not that they gave him any real money, he just had to be content with the chips. But, they sure were amazed with the kid's observation & sleight of his hands. Soon, he was the third player joining up in the game, sometimes sneaking out with the guards to play with other street players. He was a sensation in the locality.
3 YEARS LATER
"Mr. & Mrs. Rastogi here are interested in adoption. I've had good records about you, so they wanted to meet. Say hello to them, Adi. And be good". The warden put on a pretentious smile before exitting the room.
Adi was curious, but he was happy. Finally after three years, he was getting adopted. Not many children had that fate in the orphanage. Most of the adopted were babies. The ones above three were mostly avoided as bad influence. Adi was excited inside, but he put on a calm face, appeared as good as he could manage. And the next day, he was in the car with his new parents, heading for his new home.
Mr. Rastogi didn't bother much about his wife, or his marriage for that matter. He had his job, in Goa where he was content being away from his wife. That meant that Adi was staying mostly alone with his new mother. She was trying to adapt to her motherhood, & wasn't doing a bad job at it. Adi had enough of his freedom, most of which he used in his poker practise. He had received a deck as a parting gift from the guards, which he used to shuffle all day. He didn't hv a partner though, except his own self. So he simply tried taking double turns in his room. That kept going until he found out about a poker tournament from the newspaper. It was a regional one, meaning he had to travel the next day. His mom wasn't very supportive about something like poker, but she didn't want to upset him by stopping either. So, she reluctantly gave him the permission with "Don't get too addicted". He agreed, but came back with a prize money of 5,000 rupees cash..
The next day, he was the topic of discussion partly because of his skills, but mostly because of his age. Most of them were curious about how he managed to enter the tournment at his age. There was some controversy, but he finally wiggled his way out with some enthusiastic support from the judges & players.
PRESENT DAY
"No money this month either". Mrs. Rastogi lowered the phone with a heavy heart. The lockdown had been harsh on the business & jobs alike, & Mr. Rastogi was no exception. He had to make do with the meagre amount he earned, & simply refused to hand over a single penny over to a stray child they had scooped up from the orphanage. Ration had started to run out in the house, & Mrs. Rastogi had started to grow worried. She used to stay seated at the sides of the window, staring outside hopelessly. Money was a huge issue.
Adi was with his practise still, defending his title the Regionals & the States. But the prize money couldn't sustain them monthlong.
So, he finally stepped up to his Mrs. Rastogi.
"I can start earning from plays, mother". He stated. "You can start having commissions. But, you will have to hand over the responsibilities of the house.. And yourself"
...
(Disclaimer: All characters & plot are fictional. Any connection to reality is coincidental.)
SCAPEGOAT
Arunabh: 45 years, 5'10" Eminent journalist & well known for his unique aggressive journalism. Sometimes referred to as outspoken, sometimes insane, with multiple achievements in his field.
Anjana Rawat: 35 years, 5'5" 34-26-34,
Popular actress, winner of several awards.
PROLOGUE
"You're still not over him, right?" Arunabh mused in a dejected mood staring out as the towering buildings & cars reappeared from behind the cloud of his Navy Cut cigarette. Behind him, Anjana was busy hooking her brassiere. "It was just a stammer. I had no such intention in mind". She retorted.
Arunabh didn't respond. His bottom still urged for release, but he had lost the mood entirely. Taking a deep inhale of the cigarette he just let out another thick smoke against the glass.
Anjana got up slowly. She knew the meaning of this silence. The discussion was over. It was her cue to leave. She reluctantly lifted the black saree from the corner of the bed & started walking towards the door. Before leaving, however, she took one last glance at Arunabh. But he still had his gaze out at the distant horizon, lit up by the countless lights of the Mumbai city.
"Don't worry. I didn't forget our deal". As if to answer her curiosity, Arunabh spoke out. "I'll look to the fact that you get the limelight you're chasing after. You just get your scripts ready for the interview".
Anjana was feeling a little sense of guilt inside, but it was no use now. The peak moment of climax had been broken. It won't come back tonight. She closed the door behind her as quiet as she could.
PRESENT DAY
BREAKING NEWS: Anjana Rawat's Twitter handle got deleted.
Every news channel was busy reporting the details to the public. Every social network was in tight hustle, some trolling, caricaturing her while some were tearing their hair off in an attempt to defend her.
Arunabh sat on his couch, sipping his usual Darjeeling tea while he was going through his report. Lately, the renowned actress had been the topic of discussion over a cup of tea in almost every household, mostly because of her posts. Some declared them as revolutionary, while mostly just laughed them off.
But Arunabh knew how it all started, & he had been keeping a track of it all.
It was since the death of another popular actor that it all started. While the mystery of his demise was never solved, the media didn't waste a single moment to milk out cash. And Arunabh, with his glamorous aura, ensured that his channel minted out the maximum fraction.
Since the days of his education in Harvard, it was his dream to get among the top tier of journalists. But after some years of work, his experience taught him that Rupees make a better sound than the claps in a Magsaysay award ceremony. And with this clarity, he raced headlong under the umbrella of the politicians. For power brings money. And in this battle, he chose the perfect tool he needed. The popular actress Anjana had always been a flag bearer against Nepotism in the film industry. Her confidence, outspoken attitude was always a part & parcel of her personality, backed up by her excellent acting skills.
So all he had to do, was to turn the tides of the theories in his favor, & put up her face as the ambassador. And that did the trick.
Views came pouring in millions, & along came sponsors. Within a few months, his channel was the top grossing TRP. Arunabh was literally swimming in riches.
But even in all that fame, all the publicity, his ego kept biting at him. He could never forget that one night when she had left him unfinished. His manhood felt cheated every time the memory flashed up. And so, he had been laying the pieces. He had been waiting for the time to arrive, while he secretly controlled the strings from the shadows.
**********
Arunabh sat before the table, his eyes on the chessboard. In the next move, the knight would kill the bishop. He was a fan of playing chess himself. He said this gave him a better insight of the game.
"Sir? Everyone is waiting". Kanika peeked in for a moment.
"Tell them I'll be there in a moment". Arunabh had no time to look up. His face was lit up in joy. His eyes like a hungry predator who had just cornered his prey.
'It's over, Mrs. Anjana Rawat. Your doors are closed. All your paths... Lead up to me".
(Disclaimer: All characters & plot are fictional. Any connection to reality is coincidental.)
SCAPEGOAT
Arunabh: 45 years, 5'10" Eminent journalist & well known for his unique aggressive journalism. Sometimes referred to as outspoken, sometimes insane, with multiple achievements in his field.
Anjana Rawat: 35 years, 5'5" 34-26-34,
Popular actress, winner of several awards.
PROLOGUE
"You're still not over him, right?" Arunabh mused in a dejected mood staring out as the towering buildings & cars reappeared from behind the cloud of his Navy Cut cigarette. Behind him, Anjana was busy hooking her brassiere. "It was just a stammer. I had no such intention in mind". She retorted.
Arunabh didn't respond. His bottom still urged for release, but he had lost the mood entirely. Taking a deep inhale of the cigarette he just let out another thick smoke against the glass.
Anjana got up slowly. She knew the meaning of this silence. The discussion was over. It was her cue to leave. She reluctantly lifted the black saree from the corner of the bed & started walking towards the door. Before leaving, however, she took one last glance at Arunabh. But he still had his gaze out at the distant horizon, lit up by the countless lights of the Mumbai city.
"Don't worry. I didn't forget our deal". As if to answer her curiosity, Arunabh spoke out. "I'll look to the fact that you get the limelight you're chasing after. You just get your scripts ready for the interview".
Anjana was feeling a little sense of guilt inside, but it was no use now. The peak moment of climax had been broken. It won't come back tonight. She closed the door behind her as quiet as she could.
PRESENT DAY
BREAKING NEWS: Anjana Rawat's Twitter handle got deleted.
Every news channel was busy reporting the details to the public. Every social network was in tight hustle, some trolling, caricaturing her while some were tearing their hair off in an attempt to defend her.
Arunabh sat on his couch, sipping his usual Darjeeling tea while he was going through his report. Lately, the renowned actress had been the topic of discussion over a cup of tea in almost every household, mostly because of her posts. Some declared them as revolutionary, while mostly just laughed them off.
But Arunabh knew how it all started, & he had been keeping a track of it all.
It was since the death of another popular actor that it all started. While the mystery of his demise was never solved, the media didn't waste a single moment to milk out cash. And Arunabh, with his glamorous aura, ensured that his channel minted out the maximum fraction.
Since the days of his education in Harvard, it was his dream to get among the top tier of journalists. But after some years of work, his experience taught him that Rupees make a better sound than the claps in a Magsaysay award ceremony. And with this clarity, he raced headlong under the umbrella of the politicians. For power brings money. And in this battle, he chose the perfect tool he needed. The popular actress Anjana had always been a flag bearer against Nepotism in the film industry. Her confidence, outspoken attitude was always a part & parcel of her personality, backed up by her excellent acting skills.
So all he had to do, was to turn the tides of the theories in his favor, & put up her face as the ambassador. And that did the trick.
Views came pouring in millions, & along came sponsors. Within a few months, his channel was the top grossing TRP. Arunabh was literally swimming in riches.
But even in all that fame, all the publicity, his ego kept biting at him. He could never forget that one night when she had left him unfinished. His manhood felt cheated every time the memory flashed up. And so, he had been laying the pieces. He had been waiting for the time to arrive, while he secretly controlled the strings from the shadows.
**********
Arunabh sat before the table, his eyes on the chessboard. In the next move, the knight would kill the bishop. He was a fan of playing chess himself. He said this gave him a better insight of the game.
"Sir? Everyone is waiting". Kanika peeked in for a moment.
"Tell them I'll be there in a moment". Arunabh had no time to look up. His face was lit up in joy. His eyes like a hungry predator who had just cornered his prey.
'It's over, Mrs. Anjana Rawat. Your doors are closed. All your paths... Lead up to me".
...
(This plot I hv taken inspiration from one of the best Bengali thrillers ever, Chotushkone)
THEME: Blackmail, Non-con, Age gap
Characters:
Joy: 26 years age, works as an assistant composer & lyricist. Smooth in conversations, quick witted, cheerful personality. Cousin of Anushka (It better kept secret till the play reaches its end. Will make a good reveal)
Anushka: 31, singer. She runs a small singing school, other than being married & running the family.
Trina: 31, 34-28-36, sensational singer, vocalist, composer. Winner of several singing awards
Plot:
*5 YEARS AGO*
Anushka bit her nails nervously as she stood in the backstage. Only two more remained, & the next would be her!
After all these years of hardwork, she got selected in the final 5 participants... She could feel her heart beating hard in her chest. Just this night.. Just one more night, & happiness would come flooding into her life. Her name would be shining as the winner of Sa Re Ga Ma Pa.. The prize money, the fame!
"Anushka!" The sharp whisper from the right broke her trance. It was Trina, another participant who had made it to the top 5. The long stay together had made her a very good friend, despite Anushka hearing rumors about Trina being a really cunning participant behind the scenes.
"Nervous?"
".. Yeah. A bit". Anushka admitted.
"Chill.. Don't worry. Here. Try biting this, & your nails would get spared". Trina giggled as she handed something over to Anushka.
Curious, Anushka looked at her hand for the content. It was a Chlormint chewing gum bar. Phew.. She didn't know she needed one!
"Thanks Trina. You're a life saver!"
"Aww don't say like that. We're friends. A friend in need, is a friend indeed".
Anushka chucked the gum in her mouth & focussed back on the stage. Deepak's performance was over. Just one more. Shakya was walking towards the podium as the judges discussed among themselves.
There he goes with his melodious voice.. The judges enjoying. The judges loving it! Anushka felt her heart leap up for once.
Shakyo was almost finished. The judges stood up in unison & were clapping.. He received a standing ovation. Anushka stood up as well, & so did the others to cheer him up.
'The next standing ovation will be mine'. Anushka reminded herself.
".. And now, coming to participate before you, the cuckoo of Kolkata, Anushka!" Among the cheers & claps, Anushka walked upto the stage. She took a deep breath, & started to speak.. But her voice.. It was entirely different! It was barely audible. She felt a strong itch on the back of her tongue. As if someone rubbed a feather on the back of her throat.
Anushka started to panic.. Her entire path of struggle flashed before her tearful eyes..
Needless to say, her performance was a jeopardy
*PRESENT DAY*
"Hmm! The zamindar of.. where was it again?" Trina, the sensational singer ran a cursory look over the letter.
"Ex-Zamindar of Bakkhali. Now the descendants hv shifted to New Delhi. They decided to organise a get together party, & they want you to sing the song". Joy scratched his nose for the umpteenth time. It was his habit to rub his nose often. Sometimes he scrunched his nose to adjust his specs. But, that actually made him all the more cute.
"But the song doesn't hv a melody yet.." Trina protested in a weak tone.
"Yes.. They said that they need you for that as well. Afterall, you hv a number of compositions up your sleeve as well.." Joy chuckled & scratched his nose. "When they asked me, I immediately thought of you. And replied in a whiplash!"
That was the Joy-way of speaking. He liked being a little dramatic about everything.
Trina chuckled as she checked the letter again. She had known Joy for about two months now. He came as an admirer to the studio, & stayed back as a friend. To be honest, in the busy life & the streams of cameras, Joy was like a breath of fresh air for her. In the flow of conversations, he has this unique skill to familiarise with anybody like a close friend.
"By the way, the offer isn't bad. Aside from work, you could enjoy a vaccation. I hv run a small search. Bakkhali is still a sight to the sore eyes. The view in spring is simply fantastic. And a stay at the Zamindar haveli? Totally not a bad idea, what say? Heheh.."
"True.. Not like I'm that busy at the moment either. A vaccation would be really nice.." Even as Trina said so, her mind was already into something else: The fee. Zamindars hv always been lavish in their expenses, & this was no exception. 50 lakhs was offered just for a night's performance. And Joy had already brought 10 lakhs in advance in cash.
Trina was slightly curious about it, but Joy had convinced her. "Think about it.. If they pay in your account, you'll lose a great deal as tax!"
Valid point indeed. Besides, the zamindars often had records of hidden black money. So...
"Fine. Did you hv the lyrics ready?"
"Yeah.. We'll hv the song ready by the time we reach Bakkhali. Like a Zoom-in-Der!"
(This plot I hv taken inspiration from one of the best Bengali thrillers ever, Chotushkone)
THEME: Blackmail, Non-con, Age gap
Characters:
Joy: 26 years age, works as an assistant composer & lyricist. Smooth in conversations, quick witted, cheerful personality. Cousin of Anushka (It better kept secret till the play reaches its end. Will make a good reveal)
Anushka: 31, singer. She runs a small singing school, other than being married & running the family.
Trina: 31, 34-28-36, sensational singer, vocalist, composer. Winner of several singing awards
Plot:
*5 YEARS AGO*
Anushka bit her nails nervously as she stood in the backstage. Only two more remained, & the next would be her!
After all these years of hardwork, she got selected in the final 5 participants... She could feel her heart beating hard in her chest. Just this night.. Just one more night, & happiness would come flooding into her life. Her name would be shining as the winner of Sa Re Ga Ma Pa.. The prize money, the fame!
"Anushka!" The sharp whisper from the right broke her trance. It was Trina, another participant who had made it to the top 5. The long stay together had made her a very good friend, despite Anushka hearing rumors about Trina being a really cunning participant behind the scenes.
"Nervous?"
".. Yeah. A bit". Anushka admitted.
"Chill.. Don't worry. Here. Try biting this, & your nails would get spared". Trina giggled as she handed something over to Anushka.
Curious, Anushka looked at her hand for the content. It was a Chlormint chewing gum bar. Phew.. She didn't know she needed one!
"Thanks Trina. You're a life saver!"
"Aww don't say like that. We're friends. A friend in need, is a friend indeed".
Anushka chucked the gum in her mouth & focussed back on the stage. Deepak's performance was over. Just one more. Shakya was walking towards the podium as the judges discussed among themselves.
There he goes with his melodious voice.. The judges enjoying. The judges loving it! Anushka felt her heart leap up for once.
Shakyo was almost finished. The judges stood up in unison & were clapping.. He received a standing ovation. Anushka stood up as well, & so did the others to cheer him up.
'The next standing ovation will be mine'. Anushka reminded herself.
".. And now, coming to participate before you, the cuckoo of Kolkata, Anushka!" Among the cheers & claps, Anushka walked upto the stage. She took a deep breath, & started to speak.. But her voice.. It was entirely different! It was barely audible. She felt a strong itch on the back of her tongue. As if someone rubbed a feather on the back of her throat.
Anushka started to panic.. Her entire path of struggle flashed before her tearful eyes..
Needless to say, her performance was a jeopardy
*PRESENT DAY*
"Hmm! The zamindar of.. where was it again?" Trina, the sensational singer ran a cursory look over the letter.
"Ex-Zamindar of Bakkhali. Now the descendants hv shifted to New Delhi. They decided to organise a get together party, & they want you to sing the song". Joy scratched his nose for the umpteenth time. It was his habit to rub his nose often. Sometimes he scrunched his nose to adjust his specs. But, that actually made him all the more cute.
"But the song doesn't hv a melody yet.." Trina protested in a weak tone.
"Yes.. They said that they need you for that as well. Afterall, you hv a number of compositions up your sleeve as well.." Joy chuckled & scratched his nose. "When they asked me, I immediately thought of you. And replied in a whiplash!"
That was the Joy-way of speaking. He liked being a little dramatic about everything.
Trina chuckled as she checked the letter again. She had known Joy for about two months now. He came as an admirer to the studio, & stayed back as a friend. To be honest, in the busy life & the streams of cameras, Joy was like a breath of fresh air for her. In the flow of conversations, he has this unique skill to familiarise with anybody like a close friend.
"By the way, the offer isn't bad. Aside from work, you could enjoy a vaccation. I hv run a small search. Bakkhali is still a sight to the sore eyes. The view in spring is simply fantastic. And a stay at the Zamindar haveli? Totally not a bad idea, what say? Heheh.."
"True.. Not like I'm that busy at the moment either. A vaccation would be really nice.." Even as Trina said so, her mind was already into something else: The fee. Zamindars hv always been lavish in their expenses, & this was no exception. 50 lakhs was offered just for a night's performance. And Joy had already brought 10 lakhs in advance in cash.
Trina was slightly curious about it, but Joy had convinced her. "Think about it.. If they pay in your account, you'll lose a great deal as tax!"
Valid point indeed. Besides, the zamindars often had records of hidden black money. So...
"Fine. Did you hv the lyrics ready?"
"Yeah.. We'll hv the song ready by the time we reach Bakkhali. Like a Zoom-in-Der!"