The red stilettos almost tripped on the wooden plank inside
the bar and the round body pressed on the bar. She perched towards the barman
and the voice slurred, “I need a whisky...a large shot...anything will do.” She
swerved left, right and almost stumbled on the stool almost pushing the
occupant off his perch.
The whisky spilled on the white shirt tucked inside the blue
Levis Denim which shook off Raju. She turned around and jerked her body towards
him, “May be you don’t know. Listen! I don’t need to tell you. I am Ankita,”
she giggled. “I am not hitting on you okay and will slap you if you ever take
advantage of kissing me.
Raju stood and held her hand, gently pushing her body to slouch
on the stool. “You didn’t take permission to touch me but thank you for making
me sit. I am not drunk just sloshed.”
He smiled: “Ankita! Easy babe! You are drunk like a fish.
No! I cannot let you have another shot.”
She protested and her body twisted, “Who are you to tell me
not to drink? My illegitimate Dad! No! I just want a last one...please. By the
way what the fuck you told me? Drinking like a fish. You want me to jump into
the Arabian Sea. No listen to me.”
Raju was amused: “I promise to buy you a drink tomorrow.
Where are you putting in Mumbai?”
“It’s a question with a big Interrogation mark. I wanna
party for the whole night. Take me to some happening pub man. It’s dark
everywhere. Take me to Andheri,” she frolicked.
Ankita’s lifted her middle finger which flittered upward towards
the tiny bulb coated on the wooden roof and shouted, “I want this bulb...it’s
the star in the sky I am my Daddy’s lil girl...everything is for me.” Raju
tried to hold her from falling off the chair. She raised her palm in protest, “No!
Nah! Nah! Don’t hold me. It will give people wrong impression that I am
tripping drunk.”
“It’s okay! I am not your boyfriend,” he reassured.
“But, why?” she yelled.
“Just one peg. You are such a ruthless man and a murderer. A
woman, a human is thirsty! I am not asking to smooch you,” she blurted out.
Ankita fell asleep on Raju’s shoulder. He lifted her on his
shoulder and carried her inside his humble Maruti 800 car.
The car disappeared in the distance, far away from the arch
light and Paparazzi. Raju skirted in the dark night and waded past the lights
in the city, intelligently averting the scandal of a film actress caught red-handed
drunk and travelling with a stranger.
To be continued
With Love
Vishal
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