Friday, 5 April 2013

NOTE

Note!


 

Okay so basically, a confession to make.

 

For a long time now, I'd decided quitting the blog thing, because though you guys have been amazing people during the shift, I stopped feeling happy while updating. I'd just look at the blog and go ... "Okay yay"

 

When I see my IF thread though, I go "YAY YAY YAY"

 

Its not you guys, I'm just a dumbf**k.

 

And so ... here it is.

 

I've decided to shift the story to a new thread with all the chapters posted, and keep it on IF permanently. I know that by now all of you must be like "seriously?" but honestly guys, I've thought about it a lot, and at the end of the day - what is the point of me writing if it doesn't make me happy?

 

I'm so sorry for all the inconvenience I caused to you all. I really and truly am.

 

I will send PMs for this story from V323PMs though, and will request all the readers waiting for the link to buddy that account and post their views about the chapters they missed on the new thread.

 

I'm really sorry you all. Really.

 


 

Edited to add - I just feel real guilty because I'm being such a mess of troubled thoughts and everything. I'm honestly acting like an indecisive fool, and you're welcome to call me an idiot, because that's what I feel like right now. I'm really really really sorry for all the mess I'm making right now. I'm really sorry, I don't even have some lame pathetic excuse to give to you all, so this all makes sense. 

 

I guess I could say "I'm just a teen" but that just makes me more pathetic a creature and that's not my aim. 

 

Sorry again. 



Chapter Twelve - The Call of the War


The only source of light in the dark cabin was the overhead light, glowing softly. It illuminates the top of Khushi’s head, and the papers she is reading. The fine print of the papers make her jam the reading glasses higher up her nose, and then sigh with frustration.

 

Unlike the rest of the interiors, cool and dank with an interesting interspersion of black and white furniture, she is dressed in a red top with the emblem “Saala Ch*tiya” and black yoga pants. Today she has made a mental vow that she wouldn’t leave office till this particular work was sorted, but there wasn’t any rule about not being comfortable while sorting out this mess, is there?

 

She thinks about Arnav Singh Raizada, and his little stunt today. And then she thinks of how she stopped the disaster from happening. A slow smile lights up her face, when she thinks of the bug she placed in his office, and how she heard that he had ordered a hit on her.

 

The war is on.

 

* * *

 

Can we ... talk?

 

Anjali quickly slips out of the clothes and kneels down to the man’s flaccid penis, trying to coax it into erection. Her experienced touch works soon enough, and she proceeds to pleasure the rest of him.

 

Thirty minutes later, the man grunts in appreciation and throws the money on her face. Without looking back at her, he swiftly walks out of the door, and soon enough, the last customer walks in.

 

Can we ... talk?

 

No.

 

* * *

 

 

The room stinks of sweat, blood and urine. The only source of light is a grimy bulb, glowing softly and hanging precariously from a wire. It swings and throws two faces into periodic bouts of light and darkness.

 

“What is your work with me?”

 

The voice which utters the words is raspy from disuse, and curiously Russian in accent.

 

“I know you have old scores to settle with Shashi Gupta. I don’t know what your problem is, neither do I care. What I do care about is that I have a problem with Khushi Gupta.”

 

“What is your work with me?” Asks the man, clearly uninterested.

 

“I want you to find out a way both of us will get what we want”

 

“You shall get it. However, I am not your employee, nor will you pay me. I am my own agent, and I shall work on my own. You will not ask me for the ‘progress’. You will only see the result when I choose to show it to you”

 

“Agreed”

 

“Good. Now get out”

 

Arnav scrapes the chair off, trying to keep his rising temper in check. He knows that the insult he bears is worth the prize.

 

Khushi Gupta won’t even know what hit her.

 

 

 

_______________________

 

 

Sorry guys the updates are kind of short and everything, for I’m really pressed for time here. I promise to get back (hopefully) by the next update.

 


 

 

-Vee

 

Tuesday, 2 April 2013

Chapter Eleven - Enemy at the gates


Do you see a person who can show her face back home?

 

The room is a thick with buried emotions and brimming rage. Papers, screwed up into angry balls, lie strewn about on the floor. Shyam’s gaze is fixed on the ceiling, his armchair creaks as he rocks back and forth.

 

Shyam closes his eyes. His mind goes back to the days he lived under the thumb of his father, the army jawan - Colonel Amarjeet Manohar Jha.

 

Colonel Jha, for as long as Shyam remembers him, is a man with hair parting so straight and so white, that one might imagine he uses a ruler. His eyes are a bright brown, a special kind of toughness emanates from him. The colonel has thick, beefy and hairy limbs and a tongue as sharp as a pair of scissors.

 

The colonel is a strict, uncompromising man, and it is a source of constant wonder to him how he possibly could father a child like Shyam Jha.

 

Shyam looks at his published titles, carelessly lodged against the wall. He notes the awards on the shelf. Then he thinks of his father, who threw Shyam out of the house, declaring no son of his could take up a pansy profession like writing.

 

Do you see a person who can show their face back home?

 

No, he couldn’t.

 

* * *

 

Akash sidesteps a puddle and diligently walks towards the adress scribbled carelessly on a scrap of paper. This place is for the dogs Akash thinks, as the occassional druggie raises his glazed eyes to him. Then he remembers why he is here.

 

He would die rather than admit it, but he was glad he and Khushi Gupta were working on the same side. It really does pay, to have a person like her on your side.

 

He sidesteps yet another puddle, and stops in front of the house. 99B announces the cardboard strip. He walks to the door, and the door opens.

 

“I’m Akash, I’m here on behalf of Ms. Gupta, who had-” he announces, in a bored voice to the breathless woman.

 

“I know, I know” the woman says in a breathless voice. “I’m Anamika”

 

Akash stares coolly back at the woman. “No you aren’t”

 

The woman straightens up with some difficulty. “Excuse me?”

 

Akash stares back at the woman. “Khushi asked me to check all your records, and a very interesting fact popped up. That your name isn’t Anamika. Payal, that’s what they call you, isn’t it?”

 

“You need to-”

“I don’t even care why you hid your name from Ms. Gupta. All I care about is that I know your name, and you don’t want Khushi to know your name. The way I see it, you have a problem”

 

The shift in the air is palpalable. She stares at the uncompromising man, with the ghost of a smile.“What do you want?”

 

“I want you to help me ruin this restaurant”

 

Akash face twists into a full blown grin, when the woman stares at him, shocked.

 

The games hath begun.

 

* * *

 

A little crease on the smooth brow indicates Arnav’s mental state. The secretary trembles at her fate. All of Arnav’s plans to block the Gupta industries had been ripped to smithergreens, by none other than Khushi Gupta. But his plans had been discreet, nobody but he knew of them. Which meant there was a rat in the company.

 

Who?

 

“Leave” he orders brusquely, and the secretary scurries. Arnav’s temper was not to be tested. Arnav reaches for the phone, and hurriedly dials a number.

 

“Yes?”

 

“She’s more dangerous than I percieved. Get her out of the way”

 

Problem solved. All he had to do, was look for a white kurta, for the funeral.

 

_________________________________

 


 

And I’m back!

 

A friend of mine, who sat with me and listened to my rambles as the story was conceptualized and the plot was formed, has a bit of an advice to give you. This is totally her words, and honestly, they don’t even make sense to me.

 

“A certified way to try and understand where the story is going, is to pay attention to the people, as opposed to what they are saying.”

 

*hands up* Like I said, don’t try to understand.

 

Thursday, 28 March 2013

Chapter Ten(B) - The cracked mirror


Arnav dips his head into the shadowed valley of her bronzed cleavage. With his tongue, he carefully licks the region between them. A shudder and a harsh cry later, he slides further down, now kissing the open expanse of the naked belly. She arches her back and moans, as his hands pursue their relentless ministrations of her breasts. Her nipples, taut, ache for release, along with the rest of her. “Please” she whispers, her hands digging into Arnav’s shoulders. Arnav looks up almost lazily. “What?” he asks her. “Please ... I ...”

 

Arnav already feels bored. With a smooth movement, he nudges her legs apart. Entering her in smooth movement, he moves in and out with tandem. “Yes ... more ... more ...” she shouts, drunk with the ecstasy of Arnav’s ministrations. The dim lights of the room make them glisten. Their sweat mingles into each other, and they rock in tandem, in a dance, with Arnav leading.

 

The next moment the door bangs open. “What is going ...” His partner gets up in shock and casts a terrified look to Arnav and then at the visitor.

 

“Its not what is looks like!” she cries to the visitor. “I just ...”

 

Arnav interrupts her bleating with a smirk. “Actually, it is exactly what it looks like”

 

He smoothly reaches over for his pants. In another swift motion he slips them on, and in the next he strides out of the door. “You see dad, all these years later, I’m still the winner.” Arnav steps out of the door and closes it with a soft click.

 

Leaving his father and his father’s fifth wife to settle the terms of the divorce.

 

* * *

 

Akash is having an easy day today. All the meetings had been postponed, thus reducing Akash’s workload by 75%.

 

Akash sits down on the laptop, and proceeds to screen and forward all the important emails to Khushi. It is an onerous task, for Khushi refuses to read any email which has gone beyond four lines. Akash could understand where she came from – having to read and reply to 400 emails on a daily basis was no mean feat, and if people started writing an entire novel to her, vie emails, then Khushi might as well give up her job, sit at home and reply to those emails.

 

Akash is busily engrossed in screening those emails, when he looks up and realises that he is not alone.

 

Khushi is comfortably seated on the chair opposite him.

 

“Akash” she begins, without preamble. “I have a job for you”
 
_________________
 
 

Also - this update is dedicated to SS88. A very happy birthday to you, my dear =D

 
I split chapter ten into two parts, for 10(A) and 10(B) are not sequenced one after the next. There is actually a gap of a few days, between both the parts.
 
Thank you for waiting so patiently, for me to update!
 

Sunday, 10 March 2013

Chapter Ten (A) - The Living Dead

Khushi stepped into the empty graveyard. The graveyard, a source of horror to many others, was her sanctuary. Whenever she’d have a problem, she’d step into the graveyard and think. This was her den, where the lion rested before the attack.

 

Khushi’s restaurant had not been her dream, yet she was determined to go ahead with it. The restaurant would be her back up. It was the perfect foil. Should anything ever arise, the restaurant would still be there, holding her ass up. Also, the restaurant would reflect nicely on the business. It was a chord of mutual benefit. The business would get the restaurant its diners and the restaurant would get the business its share of glory. It was nothing personal for her, this restaurant. Just another business venture.

 

A faint laugh echoed in the dark abyss of her mind, a sudden whiff of cardamom and chilly overcame her senses. The memory flashed in front her eyes, colouring everything in its warm golden glow. The graveyard abruptly shifted, and was replaced by a couch and a large window. The shadows and shapes soothingly faded into each other. There were no colours, only the golden of the warm sunlight, and the black of the shadows. A voice echoed from somewhere behind, like the faint voice of a broken radio - “We will open a small restaurant, all four of us. I’ll cook and he can look after the business. You both will help us, yes?”

 

The memory abruptly shifted, and the gold was replaced by the black of the graveyard. Khushi shivered - her jaw taut, her breathing heavy.

 

A phone call cut into her silence. She glanced at the caller ID, regained her composure, and attended the phone call.

 

It was nothing personal, this restaurant. Just a business deal.

 

* * *

 

After ten years of service, Anjali had thought nothing would surprise her. She had been proven wrong by the grave young man, sitting on her bed. She felt irritated at this man, what on earth was his problem? Why was he after her? With these questions whirling around her head, a single word dropped out of her lips.

 

“What?” she snarled.

 

“I just want to-”

 

“Talk?” she asked, suddenly angry. The throbbing in her head increased. She felt tired. After having to fuck more than thirty men in a day, she had to deal with mad men ‘wanting to talk’.

 

“Yes” Shyam answered.

 

“What would you like to talk about?” Anjali answered. Anger wouldn’t get her anywhere, she knew it. She controlled the poisonous flames choking the back of her neck. Control, she told herself.

 

“I am a writer and...”

 

“Oh, so one of your characters is a whore?” The anger level suddenly rising, for a reason she could not fathom. Calm Down! She commanded herself. The anger had reached to her mouth, however. Try as she might, it wasn’t going back in.

 

“When you put it like that-”

 

“What do you mean – put it like that? IT IS LIKE THAT” She shouted, venom coursing through her veins. She noted with a vicious stab of pleasure that the man jumped. The anger had won. “YOU KNOW HOW MANY MEN COME TO ME, SO I SUCK THEIR COCKS? YOU KNOW HOW MANY? THIRTY. THAT’S RIGHT. THIR-FUCKING-TEE. I TRADE SEX, SHYAM MANOHAR JHA, AND NOTHING YOU CAN SAY WILL EVER CHANGE IT. YOU KNOW, YEARS BEFORE, I RAN AWAY FROM HOME TO BECOME A MODEL. LOOK AT ME NOW, HAVING TO LET STRANGERS TOUCH ME IN WAYS YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE, TO EARN MY LIVING. I DIDN’T PUT ANYTHING LIKE THAT, IT IS LIKE THAT. I LIVE THE KIND OF LIFE MY MOTHER CONSIDERS NEXT TO DEATH. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM. I HAD DREAMS TO GO BACK, AS A SUCCESSFUL PERSON, SO THEY WOULD TAKE ME BACK. LOOK AT ME NOW. DO YOU SEE A PERSON WHO CAN SHOW HER FACE BACK HOME?”

 

Shyam looked at her quietly. “Do you?” she repeated forcefully, a fleck of spit flying from her mouth. Her mouth twisted into a sarcastic smile, when her companion did not reply.

 

“I think we both know the answer. Please leave, I cannot help you”

 

She closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply. She heard the door close, and opened her eyes.

 

With a fleeting stab of guilt, she flung herself on the bed.

 

___________________________


A/N: Guys I have my final exams from 15th march, so chapter eleven will only be updated on 28th march, seeing as my exams get over on 26th. I will try to update during my exams, but please don’t bank on that. Pray for me guys, I need all the good luck. :)

 

PS – these are my LAST exams for this session, so YEAH. NEED ALL THE GOOD LUCKK.
 
Umm... I steal this idea from my dearest masam, and ask you all to pose any ONE question about the story and where it is going, but only on the IF Thread. I shall answer them as honestly as I can, without giving the future plot away. This is a meagre compensation to my delay in updating.

I know this update is short, but its important too. It has the details which frame an integral part of the story ahead.

With love,

-Vee

Tuesday, 5 March 2013

Chapter Nine - The Race

A/N: A shout-out to cmileyfreaky who understood the Harry Potter reference, though it wasn't a contest or anything, lol.
 
______________________________________
 
Akash smiled slightly to himself, while packing away for work. He had been chosen to head the UK Deal, with Khushi. He was happy, for the deal was worth millions, and it would really boost his bar up the graph. He would have a better chance at that promotion, after the deal.

 

However, there was one problem... Khushi.

 

The world of business was a cut-throat race and you had two options. Win, or die trying. Akash was no newly-wed into this race, he knew one wrong step, and Khushi would tango him right out of the business. All of Gupta Corporation knew that the big job after the UK deal had two contenders, the first being Akash and the second being Khushi. Should Akash win the deal, he would be joint CEO. Something, which he knew that Khushi would not let happen. Akash knew he was a threat to Khushi, and he knew that Khushi knew that too. This was a war, and Khushi Kumari Gupta was one hell of an opponent. Nobody liked gambling with stakes this high, least of all Akash.

 

Something had to be done, but what?

 

* * *

 

Anjali stepped into the room, where the next customer was waiting for her. He would be the first this morning. Sometimes Anjali wondered how people could be up for sex early in the morning. But it was not her business to wonder about people and their strangeness. The stranger the people were, the better money she got.

 

The customer was standing with his back to her. She quickly proceeded to step out of the clothes, when the customer turned his face towards her. She smiled when she saw his face.

 

Shyam Manohar Jha promptly turned a bright scarlet.

 

“I..”

 

She waited for him to elaborate.

 

“I... was wondering if we could...”

 

“Talk?” she replied with a smirk. “Sorry, but for those things, you pay a shrink, not a whore”

 

At that, Anjali heard the door swish open, and turned back in surprise. “Now what?” she asked a visibly frightened Lavanya, who walked in quickly. “Devyani is away... she asked me to ask you to handle everything...” Lavanya replied, dragging the half naked Anjali out of the door - Shyam clearly forgotten. Lavanya quickly entered the door next to the room Anjali had just been in, and dragged Anjali in. “What should I do?” Lavanya asked her, as Anjali gazed up at the horrific sight.

 

Nirmala, the new girl, had hung herself from the ceiling. Below her rotating dead body, sat a woman, fully naked – with tears streaming down her face.

 

* * *

 

Devyani looked up at the dead body rotating from the ceiling. With her eyes, she gestured Anjali to take Lavanya and the crying woman out. Anjali was quick to comply, soothing the naked woman into walking to the next empty room, motioning Lavanya to follow behind.

 

Devyani kept staring at the young girl. What a waste of beauty, this girl could have gone far in the field. This would be the fourth suicide this month, funny how these girls had no spine, not being able to deal with life. But this dead body would have to be fixed, or questions would be raised and the business would crumble. Devyani reached for her phone and murmured softly into it, her voice soft and her instructions clear.

 

Moments later, the guards entered and minutes later, the body was out of the room. It would wind up in the sea somewhere, or maybe buried. She did not know, she did not care to ask.

 

The way Devyani saw it, Nirmala was officially out of the race.

 

* * *

 

Anjali tiredly walked back to her room. This would be the fourth suicide of the room, and somehow or the other, the same woman always happened to be a customer. It was a curious case... she had spoken to Nirmala ten minutes ago about her job. Nirmala had not seemed suicidal. Anjali knew a suicidal whore when she saw one. Something was missing, a key point. But what?

 

Anjali entered her room, tired – wanting to sleep her aching head away. She tiredly closed her eyes, stopping right outside the door, before swishing the door open and stopping short. She stared, unable to believe what

 

“Hello” Shyam Jha said.
 
 
 
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You can also comment on the IF Thread - http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=3389861