The reviews are great, so two chapter a day! Anyways I am so called 'building' the structure of this story...you'll find out more. Abhi ke liye! Jhanvi and Nakul are about to start their new lives! Anyways enjoy enjoy! And yeah the reviews are so superb so so superb! I love it! Thank every single one of you! ^.^
There was a little twinge in my stomach as I folded up the t-shirt and set it into the suitcase. It was the same sort of twinge that I used to get on Diwali breaks, when I have the feeling that I would get the day before going on holidays with my parents and brothers. It was excitement.
Living out of a bus and hotel rooms for the next two months wasn't exactly my idea of heaven, especially when I was going to be living with a bunch of strangers, fighting with mighty criminal and more. But it was frankly, our only option of living. An added bonus was that I would get to spend more time with Daya. One small setback would be that I would also be spending time with Abhijeet, who didn't even attempt to hide the fact that he didn't like me very much. I'd even overheard Abhijeet picking a fight with Daya over inviting me and Nakul on tour without consulting him.
Daya and I had been cleaning at the time, and Abhijeet had come in and literally grabbed Daya by the scruff of the neck and dragged him into another room where they had their 'discussion' as he had called it. It wasn't like I had deliberately overheard them, I wasn't eavesdropping. The bin just happened to be over beside the door, and they just happened to be arguing very loudly.
Abhijeet wasn't happy about Nakul coming along either, that Nakul would create 'unwanted tension' among everyone when they'll be fighting nasty people. Daya snapped back at Abhijeet that he was the only one that would be uncomfortable because he 'refused to accept another person's sexuality'. My name was mentioned once or twice but I could never catch what was being said. Perhaps it was best that way. My mother always would tell me that an eavesdropper would never hear anything positive about themselves.
Daya won, because Daya was boss. I didn't like being the cause of a riff between the duos, I knew they were close. However, I couldn't change the past, and Abhijeet would just have to get used to me whether he liked me or not.
The phone on my bedside table began to buzz. Accepting the call with a smile I put the phone to my ear.
"Darpok sher," I teased.
"Mujhe Nakul se baat karne ka bilkul bhi man nehi tha," Daya growled from the other end, "So landline se phone nehi kiya. I need to talk yar."
"Shoot," I said, settling down onto my bed, anticipating a long phone conversation.
I was right. Given the opportunity Daya could talk you into a coma, and this was such an occasion. There was, however, something not quite right about the conversation. Yes Daya was prone to complaining about his best friend, but never this much.
"...Jhanvi tum sun rahi ho na," he snapped suddenly. I was ashamed to admit that I hadn't been paying attention, I'd just been listening to his voice. I'd decided that his voice could be compared to chocolate. It was so smooth and husky.
"Yeah, of course," I lied, sitting up straight to wake myself up.
"Good. Now... where was I? Oh yes. And he's so god damn stubborn! Bhot hi zyada ziddi or bewakuf. Seriously, it's his way, or no way at all. There's absolutely no compromising with him. Bande ko itni bhi tamiz nehi ki kisi or ki bhi sune! Har mamle me apna tang ese arayega jese koi tees maar khan ho, use pata nehi tumse kya dushmani ho rahi ha. Main manta hu ki jo bhi past me hua woh thik nehi tha par fir bhi yar. Tumne jo kiya mere saath kiya na uski kyu fat rahi hai. He fusses mainly about you and Nakul coming along which is totally ridiculous, I can see no reason why..."
"I can," I mumbled.
"What?"
"I can," I repeated, "Woh bohot protective hai tumhare bare me, jo bhi hua, ab woh tumhe or dukhi nehi dekh sakta isliye tumhe mujhse bacha raha hai."
Daya paused and I cringed at having just made the conversation awkward.
"...well maine kaha na uske saath to kuch nehi hua to use kya problem hai."
"I know but you have to see it from his point of view..."
"Tum mere taraf ho ya uske taraf?!" Daya snapped crossly with a hard voice. And that is why I didn't much like talking to Daya when he was upset or angry. His voice would sound twenty times more serious and loud.
"Me kisi ke taraf me nehi hu Daya," I defended, "I'm trying to be neutral here. He's just concerned for you."
"He doesn't have to hold my hand all the fucking time; I'm a grown man for god's sake!"
I was unable to hide my snigger as he used the F word, which would be a rare case. Daya cross was never threatening, on the contrary, he was actually quite funny. The only time I'd been scared of Daya was back in December when he'd kicked me out of his hotel room after discovering that I'd tried to set him up for a magazine article.
"Has rahi ho, Jhanvi tum has rahi ho! Kya yaar!" he demanded.
"Esa kuch nehi hai," I giggled, "You're just so cute when you're angry."
He paused for a second.
"Ugh, whatever," he groaned.
Then it hit me, the reason he had been complaining about his best friend so much more than usual. Abhijeet wasn't the problem. Abhijeet was the cover story.
"Daya," I asked, "Are you nervous about the project?"
There was silence at the other end of the phone. Daya cleared his throat, then whimpered out softly, "Main dara hua hu Jhanvi."
Smiling, I settled back down onto the bed. Now the conversation would begin again, only this time, it would be with the real reasons that he needed to talk about. He's as tuff as coconut shell, but at times he can whimper just like a five year old.
"Daro mat Daya, kisi ko kuch nehi hoga. Mujhe bhi nehi! Sab kuch bohot asani se solve ho jaiga!"
"Pata nehi, mai bas soch raha hu, kahi tum sabko khatre me to nehi dal raha hu! I can't lose you!"
My heart skipped a bit. He cleared his throat again as if to clear his sentence.
"Tum meri bohot achi dost ho!" He finished with a gulp. I sulked back.
Thank god he called me. There was no way I could afford the conversation if I had to call Daya from my phone.
Our final port of call before heading off with the team on the so called tour was to visit my parent's house. Everything that we weren't taking on tour with us, and wasn't essential for keeping in the flat would go into storage at my parents house. We'd taken up Daya's rather ingenious idea to rent out our flat while we were away so we would have to leave it as if it was brand new.
My mother came to help us transport the stuff back to their place, since neither Nakul nor I could drive, or even possessed a car. When I saw her car pull into the car park of the building, I ran down the flights of stairs to meet her. We'd always been pretty close. She threw her arms around me and kissed me on the forehead.
"Kesi hai Jhanvi?" she enthused.
"Thik hu Ma," I replied with a grin. Sure, it was partly a lie, I don't need to remind you about our situation but I didn't want mum to know. I didn't want her to be disappointed in me or be worried about the actual reason we are going to the tour. True that we will be surrounded by team of protective Police officers but mothers are always so sensitive, they'd never allow risks for their children.
"Mera teesra beta kidher gaya?" she laughed. It was our pet name for Nakul. In the two last years of college till now Nakul had spent more time at our house than he would have at his own. We'd been his sanctuary when his relationship with his parents fell through after his 'coming out'. Therefore, mum would always regard him as the extra member of the family, her 'teesra beta'.
"Ma woh apne suitcase lagane ki koshish kar rha hai, suitcase me nehi at rahe hai fir bhi woh utne hi kapre lega tour ke liye."
"Ha agaya woh," she agreed with a smile.
After everything was in the car we set off on the hour long drive to my parent's house. When we got there, my dad was waiting on the front door step to greet us.
"Jhanvi meri jaan beti," he chuckled ruffling his hand through my hair as if I was still five years old.
"Papa," I moaned, fixing my glasses back into place. I secretly liked it, it brought back a feeling of familiarity. Same old house, same old parents. It was how I remembered home, and it was how I liked it.
Once everything was safely stored away in the garage, we all gathered around the table to eat dinner. All that is, except for my two younger brothers. They were off gallivanting with friends. I had seen them for a bit while they helped Nakul, Dad and me store our belongings. Even though they were the same annoying brats they always had been, it would have been nice to talk to them a bit more, find out what was going on in their lives. Then again, they were teenage boys. I had nearly died when Vishal, the yongest, had first opened his mouth to speak to me, because his voice had dropped about an octave.
"Or mujhe damad chahiye, tum dono ke liye. Tum dhundoge ya me dhundu?" Mum asked casually as she doled out the rajma onto our plates.
Nakul and I exchanged glances then burst out laughing.
"Ma," Christian chuckled, "Me to abhi bhi talaash kar raha hu kisi ache larke ka. Par, Jhanvi ko..."
He trailed off, giving me a sideways glance.
"Kon?!" asked my parents both at once. Mum's voice was excited and chipper, Dad's however, sounded as though all it would take was for me to utter a name and he would have the Mafia hunting the particular individual down. I wanted to see the reaction of my father's face if I utter the name. The guy is moreover a man who chews Mafias for breakfast.
Come to think of it, I was just as curious as they were to the guy that Nakul spoke of.
"Ha bol Nakul, kon?" I uttered, raising an eyebrow at him.
He rolled his eyes.
"God Jhanvi drama queen... Ma uska naam Daya hai!"
"Yeh woh CID inspector haina, jisko tum dono ne interview kiya tha jab tum GlamGoss me kaam karti the, wese tum un sab ke saath hi ja rhe ho na holiday tour ke liye?" Mum pried.
"Ha wahi," I muttered nonchalantly, "Bas ma zyada khas kuch nehi ha... yeh Nakul to baat ka batangar..."
"Jhut mat bol Jhanvi," Nakul groaned, "Ma, main ise ache se jaanta hu, yeh na usse bohot pyaar karti hai, humesha Daya Daya krti rehti hai."
Uneasily, Dad cleared his throat and I cringed.
"Acha, kuch bata na Daya ke bare me, kesa hai woh. Wese to CID officer hai to bhot hi immandar, acha or sanskari to hoga!" persisted Mum.
"Ma, hum bas dost hai or kuch nehi!" I explained, waving my hand to signal that was the end of the discussion. There was no discussion on that matter; we were friends, end of story.
"Chup kar Jhanvi, ma Daya bhot hi handsome hai," Nakul blurted, "Agar woh is pagal Jhanvi ko bhaw na deta to me to use pata leta."
"Dono ko larke pasand hai, to dono decide karo kise chahiye!" My mother laughed, and I turned my attention back to my food, thinking that the conversation was over. Nakul, on the other hand, had another thing in mind.
"Tumhe pata hai ma us raat ko Daya ke birthday pe jab Jhanvi nashe me..."
"Nakul!" I choked, kicking him under the table. I was mortified as both my parents turned to gape at me. Mum was the only one that knew I had a tendency to over drink, and that was only because she had caught me throwing up in the bathroom once after a night out. I'd promised her I'd never do it again.
"Woh actually us ek drink me na bohot alcohol content tha, use to pata bhi nehi tha," Nakul lied quickly, saving my ass quite convincingly, "Use to pata bhi nehi ki Champagne me actually alcohol hota bhi hai. But anyway, woh nashe me dhut thi or wahi so gayi sofe pe or us halat me mai use kese ghar le jata itni raat ko... usse to chala bhi nehi ja rha tha. Tabhi Daya ko idea aya ki uske ghar me ek or karma khali hai jo ki woh use nehi karta. Oh, my, God it was the cutest thing I have ever seen. Daya ne Jhanvi ko kitne pyaar se uthaya apne bahon me or use uske dusre kamre me sula diya, haina woh bhot hi zyada caring."
Dad gave another one of his awkward coughs, while Mum made an 'aww' sound.
My face had gone a shade of crimson I was so embarrassed. No-one had told me that part of the story, and to find out with my parents both listening in was completely humiliating, especially after this Satyawadi Harishchandra( I am talking about Nakul) had admitted to them that'd I had passed out from alcohol consumption.
The rest of the evening couldn't go fast enough.
Mum drove us back into the city that night. Nakul bounded ahead, up the stairs to our flat, but mum made me stay behind.
"Kitne din ka tour hai?" she enquired, leaning her arm on the open door of the car.
"Ek ya do mahine, ab pay roll pe depend karta hai!" I replied, shrugging my shoulders.
"Apna dhyan rakhna Jhanvi or Nakul, CID officer's ache to hai par bhot khatro se jujhte hai, pata nehi kya musibaat a pare. Thik se rehna tum dono. Please?"
"Ma ap..." I sighed, raising my eyes to the heavens.
"Mujhe pata hai tum bari ho gayi ho, it's just, mujhe CID officer's ke saath jo yeh roz problems chalte hai, in sab se dar lagta hai, tum dhyaan rakhogi na?"
"Ma, I'll be fine," I assured her, "Or wese bhi, Nakul hai na mere saath. Woh mera dhyaan to rakhega hi, Ap please chinta mat karo!"
"Pata hai Nakul hai," she sighed as she came over and placed her arms around me in a hug, kissing me on the forehead.
"Just take care. Phone karna mujhe, din me jitney baar ho sake utne baar phone karna, or Daya ke bare me bhi agar kuch ho to bata na."
"Thik hai," I giggled, feeling too placid to rise to her insinuation that we were more than friends. I gave her a little squeeze.
I waved her off, waiting until she was out of sight before joining Nakul in the flat. Without all the boxes and things, out little abode looked bare and lonely. All our worldly belongings were packed away to bring on tour, or stored away at my parents house. Another pang hit me in my gut as I realised we would be leaving tomorrow. Half of me wanted to run around screaming and jumping with excitement. The other part of me felt a bit nauseous.
Too anxious to sleep I repacked my suitcase, leaving out a set of clothing to wear the next morning. I paced up and down the room, listening to my iPod, trying to wear myself out, but it was to no avail. Nakul was already fast asleep and wouldn't wake for another eight hours even if you placed a bomb under his bed. With a sigh I flopped down onto my bed and got my phone out. Dialling one of the few numbers I had committed to memory I waited as it rang.
"Hello?" Daya answered.
"So rehe ho?" I asked.
"Kya lag raha hai tumhe..."
"Neend a rahi hai?"
"Nehi..."
"Busy ho?"
"Nehi..."
"Can we talk for a bit? I'm so bored."
"Sure," he said, and even on the other end of a phone I was sure I could hear him smile.
Daya and I talked that night until about two in the morning before we finally decided to call it a night. The conversation was never one of any great significance. I don't even remember what we'd talked about. We never really had earth shatteringly intellectual conversations together, I wasn't smart enough for that. We simply talked about our favourite things, our life experiences, our memories, and whatever else spontaneously popped into our heads.
That morning my alarm clock woke me at the unholy time of nine a.m. I had never purchased an alarm clock in my life, that had come free with Nakul. He the heaviest sleeper I knew, yet the most prompt at waking up. His body clock was so precise he was guaranteed to wake up at half eight. He had decided that this morning, I would be best woken if he took a running jump at me. I didn't see him do it, but I felt him land on top of me with much more force than I deemed him possible of possessing. I was unpleasantly ripped from dream world and thrust into reality. Bolting upright I looked around wildly at the blurry shapes of my room.
"Jhanvi uth! Today! It's today it's today!" he sang, and I could see the blur that belonged to him roll off my bed and begin to skip around my room. There was a sense of déjà-vu at his choice of words. It reminded me of the morning he'd woken me up all those months ago when we had conducted a false interview with the team. I hoped that it wasn't a sign that things would play out exactly the same, and end badly.
I put on my glasses and tumbled out of bed, somehow managing to make my way into the shower, another similarity of that fateful day six months ago. I took as long as I could possibly take in the shower, savouring the familiarity of it, preparing myself for a month without familiarity. Sleeping in a new hotel every few days, spending my time in a bus with complete strangers, fighting crimes, going detective 24/7 and the list of new things I would experience was endless.
Daya had told me that he'd arranged for us to be picked up, since neither of us could drive and he insisted on not spending the price for a taxi. He also told us to pick up a licensed Gun. It would keep us safe. Knowing how to operate a gun wasn't so tuff. But aiming it to a right place is. Daya had once taught me to shoot and I bet he is pretty much relying on me to remember the lesson.
Nakul had an enviable amount of energy as he bounced around the place, murdering a song cheerfully with his less than desirable vocal chords. Nevertheless I left him to it, he was excited. Don't get me wrong, I was excited too. I was also sick with nerves. I liked routine, but knew that there would be nothing like that on this tour, it would be totally random. Anything and everything can happen on this tour. Murder, hijack, kidnap, bombing, cross fire, tons of risky things you can think of. As long as the guys of CID are around, that was all that mattered. All too soon, an obviously bullet proof car arrived and it was impossible to delay any more. practically Nakul ran out of the room, somewhat weighed down by his endless amount of bags. He had to take two trips to bring them all down to the car that had arrived for us.
There was something very sorrowful about leaving the apartment. I knew that we would be coming back and I kept telling myself that we would but there was still a very sad feeling in my gut. I closed the door with a sigh and locked it. We'd arranged for an agency to look after the renting of our quaint apartment. Last we'd heard there were going to be some students letting it for the month or whatever, that we were away. I cringed at the thought of our little home being used for some outrageous house parties.
The tour had seemed a bit surreal, now we were leaving, it felt 100% real. I put my rucksack over my back and trundled my heavy suitcase along the hall and down the stairs, it's wheels hitting each step with a slap.
The sun that was peeking out through the clouds as I crossed the car park warmed my skin. There were two people that got out of the sleek black car that had come to pick us up. One was the driver, and the other introduced himself as Inspector Rajat, the head of security of tour buses and cars for the trip. Surprisingly there was more than enough room for us and our suitcases, even though Nakul seemed to have packed everything, including the kitchen sink. We got ourselves settled into the car and before we knew it we had set off, our destination is to tag along with CID, catching the Agents and rescuing the people. It was also where all the buses and trucks would be meeting and where we would be starting our tour from.
Rajat turned around in his seat so that he was looking over his shoulder at us.
"Right guys, mujhe aplogo ko instruction dene ke liye kaha gaya hai kyuki ap sab humare saath rahoge. Pehle to ap dono ko ek police spare gun di jaingi jo sirf or sirf apni protection ke liye ap use karoge. I repeat sirf apne ap ko protect ke liye," he instructed rolling each word as if we are in a process of learning language. He handed both of us our respective guns with a slip that looked like license to me. I was awestruck. I mean I had seen real gun. Daya used to show his gun to me, with smugness in his tone that he gets to carry that thing whereas I don't! But actually holding one is not a kid job. I actually felt some stingy feeling as I held it with both my hands. I quicky tucked it between my jeans and hid it under my shirt, the way Daya used to do. Nakul did the same. Rajat looked at our faces carefully.
Nakul and I nodded in understanding.
"Okay, second instruction. Hum sab undercovered rahenge. Isliye ap log kisi ko nehi kahenge ki hum kon hai or ap kis wajah se ja rahe hai. Not friends, not family, not anyone, unless of course they have been allowed to know. You don't talk to other reporters, or any kind of press representatives about the team or what is happening in your and our lives or about the case. Ap logo ko hum koi ese informations de sakte hai jo ki bohot hi sensitive hai humare desh ke liye, ap kabhi bhi koi ese information leak nehi karenge. Or CID team ke kisi bhi member ke personal life ke baare me kisi bhi press representative ko kuch nehi kahenge. Chahe humare officers kisi ko date kare ya lare ya kuch bhi. Koi kuch nehi kahega!"
"Kon dating kar rha hai?" asked Nakul, sounding a little too enthusiastic for my liking.
"I'm not saying anything," Rajat corrected, "Yeh possibilities hai. You two are of course entitled to the security of the CID team as well. Humare team ko kisi bhi musibat se samna karna hoga, isliye hum chahte hai ki kam se kam musibate hume dekhne pare, isliye agar kabhi koi ap par pressure dale ya apko dhamkai to ap mujhe ya CID ke kisi bhi officer hai unko inform karenge ya call karenge. I'll be with the team most of time though so I suggest you go looking for another security officer before me. You don't accept any gifts or packages from any stranger woh bomb ya zeher ho sakta hai. Kyuki tour me humme se koi bhi app e nazar nehi rakh paiga, to apko khud hi yeh sab dekhna hoga. Or ap dono ko ek alag SIM diye jainge, international SIM jo koi bhi tower ko catch kar pai. Daya woh ap dono ko de dega!"
Rajat paused as we digested everything. I had never thought of all those things before, but now they had been mentioned they seemed logical enough. The CID team do live in danger. And then they had complete nut jobs that tried to throw themselves on remote places to fight dangerously dangerous criminals for the chance to protect innocent lives. And we are going to be a part of them for a while. We have to kind of do what they are doing for more than seventeen years.
"Sabse bari baat, ap logo ko humesha apne aakh or kaan dono khuli rakhne hai, shayad sote waqt bhi. If you use your head and stick to my suggestions, then we'll all have a good time and be over with the mission safely. Or rahi ki humare crew ki baat to, we are usually all great friends," he concluded with a smile turning back around.
"It'll be cool hanging out with the guys too," Nakul noted with a grin.
Rajat looked back over his shoulders. He laughed abruptly.
"We don't have much free time, I doubt there'll be much hanging out."
I did a double take. Part of the reason that I'd agreed to take part in this tour was so that I could spend more time with Daya. If that was out of the question then it threw my whole plan for the next month into disorder. I wanted to spend time with him, he was my friend. But then again, I was here for a job, to make money so that Nakul and I could still live in the manner to which we had become accustomed. I had to prioritise, money came first.