The Bollywood Breakup Agency

by Naina Gupta

  ‘Got to go.’

  ‘What about–?’

  But Neela was already bounding up the stairs. Tonight she would officially become an engaged woman – to a man who would ensure she became the talk of the community again – this time for all the right reasons.

  Chapter T hirty-nine

  AT THE LAST MINUTE, Navin changed the venue, which annoyed Neela, as her last minute preparations had been frantic, in case of possible harassment by the paparazzi who sat outside The Ivy. ‘They couldn’t fit us in,’ he said, standing in front of the Aston, looking devastating in a black and silver sherwani, similar to his evil plot scene from the first time Neela had seen him on TV. ‘You look absolutely stunning.’

  ‘Oh.’ Neela’s ideal proposal was changing shape, but no matter, she was sure Navin had arranged some other, equally wonderful place to do the deed.

  ‘So we are going to the Clay Oven in Kingsbury.’

  ‘WHAT!’ Surely it had to be a joke, but it did explain the sherwani. ‘I can’t be proposed to in Kingsbury. How would that look? I wanted a swanky location.’

  ‘But my family want to meet you and The Ivy couldn’t fit us all in. I can’t help it. Besides, it’s a nice place.’ The light from the lamp post reflected in his amazing eyes, and Neela realised she would probably forgive him anything. As long as anything didn’t extend beyond a change in restaurant.

  Hang on. ‘Your parents?’

  ‘Well, actually it’s just my dad. Mum is in Mumbai.’

  ‘And you intend to propose in front of him.’

  Navin got on one knee. ‘No, I intend to propose here.’

  She pulled him up. ‘Here? You call that romance?’

  ‘Actually, I do. This isn’t an episode of PAL, Neela. Do you need scattered flower petals all the way up the garden path; perhaps the CD in my car blasting some cheesy old Bollywood song?’

  Yes, Neela wanted to scream, but thought better of it. Torn between the option of a proposal in some dingy area like Kingsbury or being caught with Navin in the street by Daadi-ji (who was fond of hiding behind the curtains to watch the goings on in the street and then gossiping about them), Neela decided that she couldn’t wait to see the ring. Besides, there would be plenty of time for ceremony later.

  Navin got down on his knee again and pulled out the ring. Now that Neela was looking at the situation in a new light, she couldn’t wait to gauge the carat rating of the diamond. Maybe Navin hadn’t pulled out all the stops in planning a proposal, but it was the guy and the ring that counted, wasn’t it?

  ‘Neela, will you–?’

  ‘YES!’ Smiling widely, she wrapped her arms around him and the two fell to the pavement, laughing happily.

  A couple of aunty-jis walking past shook their heads and said something about how public displays should be kept in the home. After they are married.

  But Neela, who was kissing Navin passionately by then, couldn’t have cared less.

  *

  Jai was going to do things right this time. No arrangements, no superficial choices of women. This time, he was going to be honest and upfront. And do a hell of a lot of begging.

  He’d scored a reservation at The Ivy at the last minute – some soap star cancelled – and now he was waiting by the curb in the hired limousine.

  Racing out of her house, dressed in a simple black dress with silver detail, her hair neatly washed, and, for once, actually straightened, Vidya Patel was simply stunning, and Jai felt like the luckiest guy in the world. All those bimbos, all that wasted time. Who he was looking for was someone who could be a lover and a friend. Who he was looking for was a proper partner. And she was an accountant too – so there might be an opportunity for them to work together.

  Excited, he lurched forward to greet her, and promptly fell into the gutter.

  ‘Are you drunk?’ V asked, the familiar dark look on her face.

  Getting up, Jai insisted it was just nerves.

  ‘Nerves. I’ve never seen you nervous, Jai Sharma.’

  He looked down. ‘Well, I suppose I’ve never wanted something so much. It matters.’ He looked at her then and her beauty took his breath away. Why hadn’t he seen it before? ‘You matter.’

  Then, Vidya Patel held out a newly manicured hand. ‘Let’s see what this limo’s like inside, shall we?’

  ‘Is that an invitation?’ Jai asked cheekily, reverting to type.

  She slapped his arm playfully. ‘Do you want this to be the shortest date in history?’

  ‘No Vidya.’

  ‘Then behave.’

  *

  Neela had been staring at her ring so much, that she didn’t really give much thought to the father waiting at the Clay Oven.

  When they got there, there was a lot of ‘ooing’ and ‘ahhing’ by the staff at how attractive Neela was, and what a wonderful couple she and Navin made. Obviously they knew who Navin was, and that this was some sort of celebration, so gathered that Neela had to be special too.

  A huge table was laid in the back of the restaurant and Navin led his fiancée past startled diners, who also recognised him instantly.

  ‘You British watch far too much TV,’ he told her, clutching her hand tightly. For the first time, it occurred to Neela that he didn’t enjoy the attention. Well, she certainly did! Being Mrs Evil Navin from PAL was going to suit her down to the ground.

  A few cousins appeared with their partners, and then some more people of varying ages. A couple stared at her weirdly, but given the downmarket way they looked, Neela imagined they were just jealous. Everyone sat around the table, waiting for one final guest, in silence. Navin attempted conversation but no one seemed willing to talk.

  ‘Your family knows how to have a good time,’ Neela whispered.

  ‘I don’t know what the hell is wrong. They aren’t usually like this, I promise.’

  And then the creaky door opened to reveal someone all too familiar to Neela.

  The oiled-up, black-toothed, balding nemesis himself – Mr Trivedi!

  God, was he trying to ruin her life! On this night, of all nights. ‘This is all we need,’ she murmured, but Navin didn’t answer. He was standing and waving.

  At Mr Trivedi. But why?

  And then Mr Trivedi saw her. Sitting next to Navin.

  ‘Navin?!’ He bellowed.

  ‘Dad!’ Navin shouted. It couldn’t have been more clichéd if God himself had planned it.

  It all became clear. Horribly clear.

  ‘What do you mean “Dad”?’ Neela unconsciously moved away from Navin.

  ‘That’s my father,’ her fiancé said.

  ‘Your surname is Trivedi?’

  ‘You should know. Says so quite clearly on the PAL credits.’ Navin was waving at Mr Trivedi, whose face was the colour of a plum. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with Dad? Why the hell is he yelling like that?’

  Neela smiled weakly. ‘I guess you’re the disgusting freshpot son I’ve been avoiding.’ Unfortunately, this was clearly heard by Mr Trivedi, who had scuttled up to the table faster than expected.

  ‘THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL THAT I WILL ALLOW THE TWO OF YOU TO BE TOGETHER. This whore has disgraced my family, rejected you, embarrassed her family and accused me of unspeakable things. She will never be a part of this family and don’t you even think about speaking to her again.’ Mr Trivedi shouted so loudly at Navin that every single diner was openly gawping at them.

  Neela, being Neela, wasn’t going to let the creep get away with insulting her, no matter who he was. Well, to be fair, her temper got the better of her – if her brain had been allowed to dictate events, it might have insisted on a more subtle approach, considering he was Navin’s dad.

  ‘Who the hell are you calling a whore?’ Neela screamed.

  ‘YOU!’ Mr Trivedi said, pointing his finger. ‘You heard me. You talk to me the way you do, disrespect me. Then I reject you and in retaliation you seduce my son? To say nothing of your other behaviours.’ With the last sentence he looked knowingl
y at Navin.

  ‘I didn’t even know he was your son until two minutes ago. Let’s face it, you look nothing alike, thank God.’

  Navin tried to step in: ‘Listen, Dad–‘

  ‘SHUT UP!’ Mr Trivedi shouted. ‘There is no way I am letting you two come together. Navin it’s time to go.’ He grabbed his 28-year-old son by the arm and tried to drag him away like a toddler, in front of the astonished family group who had come to see who Navin had chosen for his life partner.

  ‘No!’ Navin shouted. ‘You and Mum have tried to control me for far too long. Mum made me move to India to be in that stupid show. You tried to control my relationship with Sanjana and she broke it off because she couldn’t take the criticism and the constant judgements. Next, you choose me a wife from here, and, as it turns out, your choice was correct. Okay, there have been some problems, but I love her, and there is nothing you can do about it.’

  Who the hell is Sanjana? Neela thought.

  ‘I CAN! I WILL!’

  ‘We’re engaged. You can’t. I wouldn’t even think about breaking it off now.’

  ‘Don’t you remember all the things I’ve told you?’

  Navin stared his father down. ‘I love her and there is nothing that you can do about it.’

  ‘We’ll see about that. I’ll speak to her father, make this nonsense stop.’

  Neela unsuccessfully tried to swallow a guffaw. ‘Good luck with that.’ And under her breath she murmured ‘freshpot’.

  Mr Trivedi saw it. ‘See, she still can’t respect me. How can you marry such trash?’

  ‘Just watch me!’ Navin pulled Neela towards the front door. ‘This is my life and from now on, I am going to live it to please me.’

  *

  ‘Oh God,’ Navin said, the moment he was in the car. ‘That was bad. And by the way, will you stop calling my father a freshpot.’

  Well he is, Neela thought, but instead, smiled weakly. ‘Sorry. So, what do we do now?’

  ‘Get to your parents before my dad does. Explain, and ask your family’s blessing.’

  Sensing the confrontational aspect of the evening wasn’t over, Neela indicated a nearby McDonald’s. ‘Can we just get some fries to go with the yelling and screaming?’ she asked.

  Navin leaned over and kissed her. ‘Fries. Thank God, I’m starving, and I hate girls who eat my food so don’t even try it.’

  But by then Neela was observing the huge rock on her finger again, pondering Rishi’s reaction to Mr Trivedi’s threats, and didn’t hear.

  Chapter Forty

  Ishika was in the hospital. Hair and makeup still intact, her stomach - completely flat before the fight - had now ballooned to the size of a woman’s who was nine months’ pregnant.

  Everyone else was standing around in the waiting area, awaiting news of the unborn child. A doctor approached the family, who immediately gathered around him, asking how Ishika was.

  He revealed that he had told the frightened mother-to-be that although she and the baby were out of immediate danger, any stress would be fatal.

  The real Payal, Lohit and Mummy-ji all looked at each other: ‘How do we tell her?’ They were clearly worried about the future of the family and the business.

  DAADI-JI SAW THEM FIRST, because she reached over for another barfi sweet from the stash on the coffee table just as Neela and Navin walked in the front door.

  ‘Praise the Gods!’

  Neela’s parents looked up.

  ‘What is this?’ Daadi-ji poked her head towards the front hall. ‘Oh praise the Gods, it is the evil Navin.’

  Soorbhi got up and ran to her. ‘What’s wrong? Is it your heart?’ She turned to Rishi. ‘Call the ambulance, it’s her heart.’

  But Rishi simply pointed and Soorbhi turned to see Neela and the evil cousin from the soap they had just been watching standing in her kitchen doorway.

  ‘Neela, who is he?’ Soorbhi asked, fairly stupidly.

  Daadi-ji pointed at the TV. ‘Evil Navin, of course.’

  ‘I’m not really evil,’ Navin interjected.

  ‘But he is called Navin,’ Neela added, unhelpfully, as it turned out, because the family were now completely confused.

  Soorbhi looked more closely. ‘It is indeed evil Navin.’

  ‘And I reiterate, not evil.’

  Before her family could ask, Neela squealed her news. ‘I’m getting married, Mummy!’

  ‘Who to? Not Kiran?’ Rishi thundered.

  ‘The scoundrel!’ remarked Soorbhi.

  ‘Oh Bhagwan, what a terror,’ cried Daadi-ji.

  Neela frowned. Just when she actually had good marriage news to tell them, they couldn’t be bothered listening.

  ‘No, actually, Auntie, to me.’ Navin took her hand, and showed them the ring. Her mother made appropriate noises at the size of the diamond, then reality set in and three heads snapped to attention.

  Daadi-ji couldn’t quite understand it all. ‘You are marrying the evil Navin?’

  ‘I’m not really evil,’ Navin told her yet again, in his deep, well-practised tone. ‘It’s just my character.’

  Daadi-ji considered this. ‘So what is your real name then?’

  Navin smiled at her. ‘Well, the first name is Navin, and the surname, well, it’s Trivedi.’

  The three Solankis stared at him with their mouths open.

  Rishi shook his head. ‘You’re the Trivedi boy?’

  ‘Oh Bhagwan, help us,’ Daadi-ji cried. ‘Did she just say she was marrying Trivedi’s boy? But she rejected him.’ Neela’s poor grandmother really wasn’t coping with all the intrigue.

  ‘Doesn’t anybody read those credits?’ Navin said, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.

  Suddenly, there was a banging at the door.

  ‘That will be my dad.’ Navin frowned. ‘He isn’t happy with the match.’

  ‘Don’t let him in,’ Neela begged. She didn’t want any revelations about porno DVDs to start flying. God, Daadi-ji wouldn’t know what prayer to start with.

  But Rishi marched to the door and flung it open without fear – not for nothing was he one of the most respected property lawyers in the city.

  Mr Trivedi didn’t even say hello. ‘You will tell that girl to stay away from my son.’

  ‘Look, Deepak–‘ Rishi held out an arm, but it was pushed away.

  ‘She has no respect and I do not want her in my family. My son can have anyone . . .’

  Neela walked towards the little man, unable to control herself from wanting to thump him. Before Soorbhi was able to grab the end of her top and pull her back again, Neela shouted: ‘What do you mean that girl?’ There were air quotes on the last words.

  Mr Trivedi turned to Navin. ‘Do you see what I mean, son? Why would you want someone like this? Someone who does not respect her family enough to keep her mouth, and probably everything else, shut.’

  There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room. Even Neela was lost for words. As they stood stunned, Rishi, who had been trying to appease Mr Trivedi, grabbed the oily little man and made as if to punch him.

  ‘Rishi, no!’ Soorbhi screamed. Daadi-ji didn’t say anything, although her body language appeared to be encouraging the fight; her hand thumping the air.

  Navin stepped in between them, but his father shoved him out of the way.

  ‘No one talks about my daughter like that. You take it back.’ It was the first time Neela had seen her father so quick to jump to her defence. Perhaps it was two months of hearing everyone in Harrow say something similar – Mr Trivedi had finally pushed him over the edge.

  The oily Mr Trivedi shook his head and put up a tiny pair of fists.

  ‘Listen Dad,’ Navin said, poking him hard in the arm. ‘This is my life. You just have to accept that I love Neela. Think of it this way – it was your decision originally.’

  ‘That was until I discovered what she was like.’

  ‘SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!’ Navin screamed, straining his voice as he did so. ‘I’m
going to marry that girl, take her to Mumbai and we will move into my flat.’

  ‘It has tenants.’

  ‘I will ask them to leave.’

  ‘You will do no such thing!’

  ‘You watch me,’ Navin said. He walked over to Neela who had now slumped into the sofa, almost in tears and was being comforted by her mother. He sat next to her, on the armrest and took her hand. The one with the ring.

  ‘It’s too late, Dad.’

  ‘You take that ring off.’ Mr Trivedi yelled. This time his anger fell on deaf ears because everyone was congratulating the couple. Everyone ignored him, which annoyed him even more to the point that he stormed out of the house.

  ‘How dare you do this to me?’ he cried again, from the footpath. They all went to front door and watched as the small angry man walked away, back to the battered Punto.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Navin told them. ‘I can assure you, this is not a case of like father, like son.’

  ‘If only Neela had considered that in the beginning,’ Daadi-ji commented dryly.

  Rishi and Soorbhi, seeing that the groom was on their side, and that the couple was properly engaged, finally began celebrating.

  ‘Call Yogeeta masi, and Hira’s mother,’ Soorbhi said, racing for the phone.

  And then PAL came on and this time, even Rishi watched. And he enjoyed it, because Navin kept telling everyone of each ridiculous thing as it was about to happen, adding background details that had them all in stitches.

  ‘The aunties are going to love you,’ Neela told him happily, as the credits rolled. This time they watched for his name. There it was. Navin Trivedi.

  ‘Well, as long as you love me, the rest can keep their opinions to themselves.’

  Neela gave him a quick kiss when she thought no one was looking, but suddenly her family were all cheering and smiling, and clinking their cups of chai.

  Looking around, she thought how amazing it felt to be part of it all.

  Who knew getting married could be so much fun?