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All Yours, Stranger: Some Mysteries are Dangerously Sexy

Page 16

by Novoneel Chakraborty


  ‘What is the police saying?’

  ‘I revoked my complaints.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Cinderella complex,’ Rivanah lamented.

  ‘What the fuck is that?’

  ‘A psychiatrist told me that I constantly need a saviour in my life or else I’ll go mad.’

  ‘Holy mother of God! What have you landed yourself in?’

  ‘And that is not all.’

  Rivanah told her about Ekansh and the kitchen incident.

  ‘Fuckin’ shit! When I met you for the first time you were a girl who used to take permission from her boyfriend to go out and enjoy herself, and now, in a span of a year or so, you are telling me that girl has fucked her ex while he was in a relationship with someone else? I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Frankly, I wouldn’t believe it either. Anyway, enough about me. What’s up with you? How come you are in Kolkata?’

  ‘Been here for a month. I changed jobs. Gurgaon is history now. I so wanted to contact you before but time just kept flying and here we are now.’

  ‘I know. Even I wanted to buzz you but it just didn’t happen.’

  ‘I saw your Kolkata update on Facebook and thought of playing this prank. I had your number but I was sure you didn’t have my new Kolkata number.’

  ‘Wait. Let’s go to my place. We can catch up there,’ Rivanah said.

  ‘Sounds great.’

  The two girls took a cab and went straight to Rivanah’s place where they caught up with their past, lessons and life.

  ‘You know, men just don’t excite me now. I mean, I am straight,’ Ishita said, ‘but the idea of being with a man is something I have grown out of. All are the same, they all stink. Mom and Dad want me to get married within the next year. It is only to avoid them that I came to Kolkata. I have relatives in Delhi but none in this part of the country.’

  ‘Marriage is something I am confused about as well,’ Rivanah said.

  ‘Okay, Danny or Ekansh?’ Ishita said. ‘Just one name.’

  ‘Danny.’

  ‘Did you pick Danny because Ekansh anyway will be a part of you, but if you go with Ekansh you may end up forgetting Danny?’

  Rivanah was amazed at how well Ishita knew her.

  ‘Yes. But I don’t think I will forget Danny.’

  ‘You may get used to his absence.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘At least you have someone to live with,’ Ishita said and sighed. The girls sat in silence till Rivanah’s mother called out to them for lunch.

  Post lunch, Rivanah had to go for the convocation ceremony. She dressed up and asked Ishita to join her.

  ‘Are outsiders allowed?’

  ‘Family is allowed. I will tell them you are my cousin.’

  ‘Great. By the way, Ekansh will be there too?

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Last time I had a talk with him, it wasn’t really nice.’ Ishita remembered how she had abused and pushed him in the mall after Rivanah had slapped him and left.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Rivanah said with a smile.

  Rivanah’s parents too accompanied her to the convocation ceremony. Ekansh was there but alone. They maintained a distance from each other, fearing someone would suspect the truth. The ceremony went on smoothly. The dean and a few other senior members of the college were dressed in black cloaks. And so were the students. One by one their names were called out and the dean gave them their degree, posed for an official college picture, after which the next name was called.

  Rivanah was waiting impatiently for her turn. They were all standing in a line with a staff member coordinating their on-stage entry and exit. She looked at her parents once. The pride on their faces made everything worthwhile. She smiled at her mother who was beaming at her. She nudged her husband and together they signalled a thumbs-up sign to their daughter. Ishita, sitting beside her parents, too looked happy for her. Rivanah turned to look back. Ekansh was standing in the queue after some students. He was busy talking to another boy. She was happy she was done with I-hate-Ekansh phase and it wasn’t exactly substituted by I-love-Ekansh. Which phase was it? She couldn’t define it. And she was happy that she couldn’t. A definition brought with it its own set of problems. The next announcement made Rivanah turn to look at the announcer. He repeated the name: Hiya Chowdhury.

  For some time nobody turned up. Rivanah glanced at Ishita who was already looking at her.

  ‘Anyone from Hiya’s family here?’ the announcer asked. Someone in the crowd raised a hand. Rivanah leaned a bit to see Argho Chowdhury stand up.

  ‘Please come here and receive the degree,’ the announcer said. Dressed in casuals Argho came up to the stage, passed Rivanah, but he didn’t seem to see her, or so she thought. He went, collected the degree from the dean and immediately walked out. She wanted to keep track of Argho. It could lead her to Hiya’s family. Rivanah WhatsApped Ishita asking her to keep an eye on the guy who had just collected the degree on behalf of Hiya—Argho. Reading it, Ishita immediately stood up and went backstage, where Argho was.

  After a couple more students, Rivanah’s name was announced. She went and accepted the degree from the dean. Her father clicked a picture. She smiled, wondering if Ishita had Argho in sight or not. The moment her turn was over she rushed backstage. Neither Ishita nor Argho was there. She called the former.

  ‘He is moving out. I’m outside your college gate.’

  ‘Wait, I’m coming. Just keep an eye on him. It could be my only chance of finding out about Hiya.’

  As Rivanah walked out, she told her parents on the phone that she would join them at home and that she was going out to celebrate with Ishita. Before they could ask where exactly they were going, Rivanah cut the line.

  She joined Ishita outside the college and found her in a cab.

  ‘Hurry up! He took a cab seconds ago.’

  Rivanah climbed inside the cab and asked the driver to follow the white ‘no refusal’ cab ahead of it.

  ‘How is Argho linked to Hiya?’ Ishita asked. During the cab ride, Rivanah told her how she stumbled upon Argho on Facebook first, followed him and now she was working with him in the same office, which, by no stretch of imagination, could be a coincidence.

  Argho’s cab stopped at the Bidhan Nagar railway station. They bought tickets and followed him into a local train towards Barrackpore. They were one compartment away. And each time the train stopped, they got down and then climbed up again to make sure Argho didn’t get down. Finally they saw him get down at Agarpara. He took the bridge which was rather empty for this time of the day. Once over it he took a cycle-rickshaw. They quickly got into another rickshaw with strict instructions to follow his. It took close to twenty minutes through quiet lanes before they stopped one house away from the house in front of which Argho stopped.

  ‘Now what?’ Ishita asked.

  ‘We can’t go inside now,’ Rivanah said.

  ‘But we don’t even know if it is Argho’s house or Hiya’s!’

  ‘Or, if Argho’s and Hiya’s family live together. He had written “di” on her Facebook timeline, so chances are they are siblings.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘I will have to come here tomorrow to check,’ Rivanah said conclusively.

  ‘We!’ Ishita said firmly.

  Next day both the girls were back in the afternoon at the same place. They had planned a lot—how they should introduce themselves to whoever opened the door even if it was Argho. But in the end they thought it would be best to tell a partial truth. Rivanah was Hiya’s batchmate and she got to know about her death during the convocation. And hence decided to visit her home.

  Ishita was the one who pressed the doorbell. They exchanged nervous glances as the door was opened by a girl.

  ‘Is this Hiya’s house?’ Rivanah asked.

  ‘Mashima! Didi ke chaiche.’ The girl was the housemaid, Rivanah understood. She asked the two girls to come in. A woman came out. Her hair was dishevelled, her sari had been drap
ed around haphazardly, and she had a weird twinkle in her eyes as if she was looking for someone. Ishita and Rivanah stood close to each other. The woman scared them. A man came out quickly after her and asked the maid in a strict voice to take the woman inside. The maid used some force but eventually was able to take the woman inside.

  ‘I’m sorry for my wife’s behaviour. Who are you?’ the man asked. He was wearing a simple half-sleeved shirt and trousers.

  ‘Uncle,’ Rivanah said, ‘we are Hiya’s friends.’

  ‘Okay. I’m her father. But how did you find us here?’

  ‘A friend told us,’ Rivanah said. ‘We didn’t know she died because we were not in college at that time. Yesterday we had our convocation and got to know there about Hiya’s death.’

  ‘What happened to her, Uncle?’ Ishita asked. This dialogue was part of their last night’s plan to get to the real news.

  The man paused before he said, ‘She hanged herself.’

  ‘We are sorry,’ Rivanah said.

  ‘But why did she hang herself?’ Ishita asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Hiya’s father said and then added, ‘I only know that someone was following her for some time.’

  Rivanah and Ishita looked at each other with horror.

  ‘Who?’ Rivanah managed to ask.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Hiya’s father said and then added, ‘One minute.’ He went inside.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Ishita said. ‘Was this the same stranger who was following Hiya? And if Argho is the stranger then was he following his own sister? Wait a second; we aren’t sure they are siblings, right?’

  ‘Right,’ Rivanah said, trying to think clearly but failing miserably. Hiya’s father came out and said, ‘I found these in her room where she hanged herself.’

  What Hiya’s father held in his hand were white paper chits which had messages on them. As Ishita read those messages aloud one after the other, Rivanah hoped it was a dream, or else she wouldn’t be able to take it. They were exactly the same messages the stranger had given her from the moment she climbed into the Meru cab on her first day in Mumbai.

  ‘But weren’t these sent to . . .’ Ishita said and stopped. Rivanah had already realized the obvious. Hiya was stalked by the stranger, and she too had received the same messages. And then she hanged herself. Where was this stranger leading her? Was Hiya’s death even a suicide or did he kill her?

  ‘What happened?’ Hiya’s father asked. Neither was able to respond. Rivanah’s phone buzzed with a message. It read: I’ll soon free you, Mini.

  27

  Rivanah and Ishita took leave from Hiya’s house. They were supposed to go back to Rivanah’s house, but Rivanah’s head started reeling, and she collapsed on the road, muttering, ‘The stranger will kill me too.’ Ishita took her to her PG lest Rivanah’s parents become worried and ask all sorts of questions. After resting in Ishita’s PG for a while, Rivanah finally felt somewhat normal.

  ‘This is far more serious and sinister than we ever thought, Rivanah,’ Ishita said. The two were alone in the PG at the time.

  “I’m sure the stranger killed Hiya and made it look like a suicide. And perhaps he wants me to take the blame for it; otherwise he would have killed me too.’

  ‘But why you? If it was only about taking blame then it could have been anybody,’ Ishita argued. ‘Try to connect to him and ask him for a talk,’ she suggested. Rivanah sent a message to the numbers she had of the stranger. None of the messages were delivered.

  ‘Damn, we forgot to even ask if Argho was Hiya’s brother,’ Ishita said.

  ‘How does it matter now? I’m in the line of fire. I will soon be dead like Hiya.’

  ‘Shut up, Rivanah. You have to be strong. If the stranger gets even a hint of your weakness he will not spare you.’

  ‘He won’t spare me anyway.’

  ‘The only way ahead is cracking this whole puzzle,’ Ishita said and heard Rivanah’s phone ringing. It was her mother.

  ‘Pick up the call and don’t sound grim,’ Ishita said, giving the phone to Rivanah. She took it after a moment’s hesitation.

  ‘Hello, Mumma.’

  ‘Mini, when are you two coming home? Should I prepare lunch or you both are eating out?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Mumma, we will eat out and also I will come home tomorrow as I am at Ishita’s place.’

  ‘In Kolkata itself, right?’

  ‘Yes, in Kolkata itself. You don’t worry. Let Baba know. I shall be home tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Okay Mini, take care. I will call at night.’ Her mother put the phone down and continued to clean her daughter’s room. She arranged the bed, the bookshelf and finally moved the sketch board to a corner in order to make space in the room. As Mrs Bannerjee held the sketch board her eyes fell on the last sketch. Her lips slowly parted in disbelief as she gaped at the sketch. She immediately called up her husband.

  ‘Hello, what is it?’ Mr Bannerjee asked.

  I . . . I saw something.’ Mrs Bannerjee sounded as if she had seen a ghost.

  ‘What is it? Tell me quickly. I’m in a meeting.’

  ‘Mini has sketched . . .’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Mini has sketched Hiya Chowdhury’s face.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘I’m coming home now,’ Mr Bannerjee said and added, ‘Just keep it away from Mini.’ The line went dead. Mrs Bannerjee’s hands were still trembling but she somehow managed to get the paper off the sketch board.

  At Ishita’s PG, they were still discussing Hiya.

  ‘And you know the worst part?’ Rivanah said. ‘I don’t even remember Hiya. Like, I don’t know how she looks.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘That’s true.’

  Rivanah’s phone buzzed with a message. It was from one of the stranger’s numbers. It read: Know Your Worth, Mini. For all your answers lie within you.

  To be continued . . .

  Acknowledgements

  A huge thank you to Gurveen, Shruti and each and every one at Penguin Random House for bringing out this book and my previous ones just the way they should be.

  When you have very few close friends you don’t really have to name them: they know it without being mentioned. Thank you for being there. Sometimes that’s all that matters.

  Thanks to each one of my readers who has overwhelmed me with appreciation mails and messages for Book One of the Stranger trilogy and has kept me on my toes to make sure Book Two is equally good. I hope you love it as much as you loved Book One.

  Special thanks to all those ‘strangers’ I come across every day on the road—at traffic signals, in trains, flights and where-not—whose names I don’t know, and yet they help me knit stories.

  Last but not the least, love and gratitude for my family for standing by me and my decisions.

  Book 3 in the Stranger Trilogy . . .

  When Rivanah finds out that Hiya too had received the same messages she did, she freaks out. More so because Hiya was found hanging in her room, and Rivanah has good reason to believe it wasn’t a suicide after all. Maybe Hiya was murdered in cold blood . . . and maybe she is the stranger’s next victim.

  But why would the stranger intend to kill Rivanah? Is Argho the stranger? Will Rivanah be able to find her link to Hiya, whose face she says she doesn’t remember but is able to sketch? And if this was not enough of a mess already, Rivanah will have to choose between her first love, Ekansh, and true love, Danny, as well. Whom will she choose?

  As the stranger closes in on Rivanah, leaving her with no options but to piece this elaborate puzzle together, the series finale races towards a heartbreaking finish . . .

  Book 3 in the Stranger trilogy out in the winter of 2015!

  THE BEGINNING

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  EBURY PRESS

  Random House Publishers India Private Limited, 7th Floor, Infinity Tower C, DLF Cyber City, Gurgaon –122 002, Haryana, India

  Random House Group Limited, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London SW1V 2SA, United Kingdom

  Published by Random House India in 2015

  www.randomhouse.co.in

  Copyright © Novoneel Chakraborty 2015

  Cover design by Haitenlo Semy

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ISBN: 978-8-184-00685-8

  This digital edition published in 2015.

  e-ISBN: 978-8-184-00714-5

 

 

 


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