by Vish Dhamija
‘Where is this going, Jay?’
He must have heard me coming down the stairs as he intoned without any pleasantries.
‘Where is what going, my friend?’
‘You and Manavi, where is all this going?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s young enough to be your daughter?’
‘Yuvraj is twelve.’
I made a drink without bothering to switch on the light. I didn’t want Manavi to wake up. Not when Cooper was having this stupid conversation.
‘I know that. It was merely a figure of speech or take it as an exaggeration, if you will, to make my point. You think he would accept her?’
‘What’s not to accept?’
‘I mean, his dad going around with such a young girl.’
‘She’s not such a young girl. And it’s not that I’ve shanghaied her, she’s here of her own volition and she’s over eighteen. For your information, she’s a twenty-eight year-old woman.’
‘And you are forty-five,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Laila, twenty-eight, Majnu, forty-five: a love story with a twist. Or should we call it a terrifically twisted love story? In any event, Mahesh Bhatt would kill to acquire the movie rights, don’t you think?’
‘Forty-three,’ I couldn’t stop myself correcting him. You don’t want a fifteen year age gap to suddenly increase to eighteen. Three years, at my age, matter.
‘Now come on, Jay. Imagine someone your age and status, the biggest defence advocate in Delhi, the mighty Jay Singh doodling some twinkie’s name on his legal pads? Have you totally lost it?’ Cooper genuinely sounded irritated.
‘What are you trying to tell me, Cooper?’
‘I want you to focus on your career, your case. Focus on what you’re good at. You cannot afford to lose cases because you squander time in romancing a young girl… err… woman.’
I could sense he was enjoying his own acerbic gags.
‘Is your problem that I am with a woman, or that she is a younger woman?’
‘Forget it. Forget I even mentioned it. In time you’ll realise how foolish you’ve been for carnal pleasures.’
‘Carnal pleasures?’
Cooper had been the only outlet to intimately process what had happened in my life, and as such I respected him and I appreciated his determination and loyalty to have stuck around with me for so long. But, why did he have to drop by tonight of all nights? How the fuck did he know she was with me tonight? Or did he? This was just another of many things about Cooper that I still didn’t know and that he wouldn’t tell me. However, for the first time, I felt him invading my privacy. Perhaps, I never needed any before tonight. I wanted to finish with him and join Manavi as soon as I could.
‘Why beat around the bush, Jay? Put on “making whoopee” on the player —she’ll know your intentions loud and clear — then go jump into bed and have nookie. What’s stopping you?’ he chuckled.
He actually fucking chuckled.
Why was he taking my love as some sort of animalistic lust? But then again, what did Cooper know about love? Try explaining colours of autumn to someone who’s visually impaired from birth. Cooper’s advice was now getting a bit, well, cloying to be honest. I wanted him to leave, and leave before my lovely date found out that a drinking buddy was advising me to stay off her at three in the morning. As if she was some cougar hunting for a teenage me. He was a friend, not my dad and — here and now — I was getting petulant listening to him.
‘Look, Cooper. It’s no crime dating a younger woman.’
‘You’re right. It’s not a crime, but it might be categorised as a sin. And you of all people should know that the two could be different. Everything that’s legal does not necessarily mean right in the eyes of the Lord.’
Lord? Since when had Cooper become a believer? I wondered if he also had a copy of “Hanuman Chalisa” that he would pull out of his pocket any minute now and start chanting. I wanted to — what’s the expression these days? — LOL, but contained myself. But I think he caught the expression on my face even in the dark.
‘What?’ he growled.
‘Nothing.’
‘Don’t fucking nothing me. In your heart you know what I’m saying is true. You just don’t want to acknowledge it. You think I’m here to crack jokes?’
‘I didn’t say that. I understand your concern, Cooper, but I am carrying on with all the background investigations on the current case and—’
‘I know that, you don’t have to tell me. But you know Talwar is prosecuting, and he isn’t someone you can take lightly. You shouldn’t count on luck this time; you can always look back and think you were lucky if you win it. And the way you’re wasting time you’d have to be really lucky to win it.’
‘Do you have any information from the prosecution camp?’
‘None. And I am not here for that. You have one of the best guys working for you. I cannot get you anything more than what Bhīma can, and you should know that by now.’
I didn’t say anything. I just nodded that I echoed his point. And there wasn’t anything to argue where Bhīma’s efficiency or loyalty was concerned.
‘All I am trying to tell you is that there is no match between you and her. You are still stuck on the music we heard in our college days, when we had some money and company. In the ensuing years when you struggled to make ends meet, there was hardly a choice of exploring the world and feeding your finer senses. When you got the money and lifestyle back, Michael Jackson had come and gone. Manavi, on the other hand, wouldn’t enjoy Zeppelin or John Coltrane or Queen — in all likelihood she might not have even heard of them; Katy Perry and Lady Gaga would appeal to her.’
He had valid arguments, and that was the foremost reason I always sought his advice. Little had I known that one day he’d start advising me against my wishes. And who knew, in time he might be right. Maybe she had different tastes in music and films and fashion, but how did that matter? I was savouring the moment and he was yapping about forthcoming years. We were, for once, on different planes. Perhaps on altogether different planets!
I still couldn’t fathom why he was against my relationship with Manavi. But I didn’t want to argue, to raise voices like we had sometimes done in the past over issues. My immediate concern was not to alarm Manavi so I conceded. I let him be in control to give him happiness. I’d need to reflect upon what had put my dear friend off my lovely Manavi later. Was he plain jealous? Of what? Or who? Or was he thinking that he’d lose me if I had an interest in another human being, especially a younger girl? Like a bolt of lightning it occurred to me that I should definitely discuss this with Anita. She might have some insight.
‘You know I’ve been seeing a therapist, Cooper?’
‘I know that too, yes.’
‘She wants to see you.’
‘Why does she want to see me?’
‘She thinks you might be able to help her help me.’
‘If you think I can help, give her my number. I have no issues, but you know I’m busy so if she cannot get me she should leave a message and I’ll return her call.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Good night, I should be going now.’
***
‘Who were you talking to?’ Manavi was still déshabillé, but was getting into her robe to come down when I walked into the bedroom.
I almost said a prayer to thank God that she hadn’t woken up any earlier and heard any of our senseless conversation.
‘Uh… an old friend.’
‘At this hour?’ She looked at the clock. ‘Where is he?’
‘He was downstairs, just dropped in for a quick chat.’
‘Why didn’t you introduce me?’
‘He’s more a business colleague; he’s my partner, Sam Cooper.’
But, Manavi was out of the room before I could complete the sentence. She was back a couple of minutes later.
‘Where is he?’
‘He was leaving when I came up. He is very vague most of the
times. Visits me at random.’ Just why was I trying to explain Cooper’s untimely visit, even I didn’t know.
‘Strange man.’
‘Let’s go back to sleep honey.’ ‘Let’s go back to bed. I want to sleep with my head in the nook of your arm.’
We made love again, the third time. Whoever said it was an exercise and made your heart do a workout was right. It was one of the most sensational exercises I’d ever done.
***
Over mushrooms and cheese omelettes served al fresco for breakfast at the poolside, Manavi quizzed me about Cooper yet again. She found it bizarre that my friend decided to pay me a visit without warning at three in the morning if there was no emergency. Maybe she thought there was some crisis and I was covering it. Furthermore, she found it hard to believe that I did not find it weird. What more could I say? I rationalised to myself that either something like this had never happened in her life, or it had occurred too many times with me that I had ceased seeing any eccentricity in a visit by a friend in the wee hours of the morning. I knew neither of us was wrong; it was a question of perspective, so I let it pass. I didn’t want to waste precious time so I feigned it to be a one-off and that I would speak to Cooper about it.
Manavi insisted that she would take a cab back to her place, but I convinced her to take a ride with Bhīma. She left after lunch after giving me an embrace, a long kiss and an assurance that we should repeat this soon. Not once in the entire time she spent with me did she ask why I was seeing her boss. And I appreciated that. Perhaps she knew, but I don’t think she did, as such files were confidential and a therapist would be careful not to give access to everyone in their office.
Bhīma returned after dropping his “bhabhijee” and updated me on various pending issues. The search for Swami had been contracted, but there hadn’t been any information on the missing Glock from his Delhi boys. Ergo, he had been in touch with some people in Mumbai — he didn’t give me any names and I didn’t want any — and was confident we should get some gen soon.
***
The first thing I did Monday morning was to call Anita. Cooper’s unsolicited discourse was weighing heavily on me and I wanted to discuss it with her to get it off my chest. I kept it brief and professional with Manavi when she picked up the phone at the clinic, told her I needed to see Anita and would like to drop by. Once she passed the line to Anita I asked for some time today as something was troubling me. Fortunately, she had a vacant slot in her diary that afternoon and, obviously realising that I sounded very anxious, decided to see me at short notice. Isn’t that what any good therapist is supposed to do anyway?
Manavi looked stunning as usual. She winked at me, but otherwise stayed professional in her conduct and extended the same courtesy she had offered me earlier as a client. I did not have to wait for Anita since she was free at the time.
‘Everything okay?’ she asked after only a few initial pleasantries.
‘Normal, I would say.’
‘Then what put you in this anxious state, Jay? Coffee?’
‘Yes, please. Thanks.’
Holding back on the name, I told Anita I had started seeing a girl, which was good as that had engaged my mind elsewhere and reduced my alcohol intake. I told her about the terrific time we had together at my place, and it was all going great till the honourable Mr Sam Cooper arrived on the scene in the early hours of the morning to ruin the party. Obviously, it wasn’t possible for me to repeat his words verbatim, but I did the best I could to express that he was grossly displeased about my involvement with this young girl.
‘So, is he afraid she might take you away from him or is it the fact that there is an age gap between the two of you?’
‘God only knows. I asked him the same question, but he didn’t explicitly respond.’
‘Jay, I can empathise with you that someone, even as close as Mr Cooper is to you, drops in without being invited at such an odd hour, particularly if he knew that you had a date, but I can’t see how I can help you unless I see Mr Cooper to understand his take on all this. You see what I mean? As I mentioned to you earlier, it would be great to meet with him. He must be able to tell me subtle things, which you might have missed. In any event, it would be worth meeting him if only to explore what ticked him off about you seeing a girl.’
‘Sure. In fact I asked him this time and he told me to give you his number,’ I said pulling out my iPhone. While Anita refilled coffee in the cups that were now empty, I punched in the four-digit code, dived into my contacts and went straight to ‘C’. For Cooper:
Cecil.
Chopra.
Another Chopra.
Yet another Chopra.
Choudhari
Another Chowdhary, but with slightly different spelling.
Chakraborty.
Charan.
Chauhan.
One more Chauhan.
Chugh.
Chandal.
Cooper was conspicuously missing.
Maybe I stored him in the wrong place; I moved to S for Sam.
Nada.
Where the fuck had his contact details disappeared?
Had Cooper deleted his own number after permitting him to give it to Anita? It struck me that my phone was kept in the living room all night and Cooper could have accessed it easily.
Bastard.
My expression must have changed since Anita caught me fretting.
‘Anything wrong, Jay?’ Anita quizzed, with uncapped pen still in her hand and waiting to jot down Cooper’s number.
‘I can’t find his number in my phone book, none of the numbers. In fact his contact details are missing,’ I uttered, my brain unsuccessful in working out when Cooper had done this — before or after I left the living room? Had to be afterwards, as he only knew I wanted him to see Anita after our little tête-à-tête that night. So he hadn’t left when Manavi had gone looking for him in the living room; had he hidden somewhere to avoid her?
Telling me to act my age and then playing hide and seek in my living room. Did he carry a teddy around too?
‘When was the last time you called him?’
I sat there. Anita’s words hardly registered though I saw her lips move. I was part wounded, part furious and felt totally let down. Cooper had no bloody right to play with me like that. He may be a damn good friend but this was crossing the line. Making amendments to my personal phone. Total privacy intrusion. What else had he seen? My call history? My texts? Checked my albums to see if I had taken Manavi’s pictures?
‘When was the last you called Mr Cooper, Jay?’
‘Hmm.’ I was transported back into the room when Anita repeated the question.
‘I can’t think of anything right now, I’m sorry. But my contacts sync with my laptop so I’d be able to send you the number when I get back to office.’
Anita smiled. ‘That’s okay. There’s no crisis. However, do you remember calling him recently?’
‘No. As you know I’ve been awfully busy, I haven’t called him at all in months. In any case, we don’t phone each other, we meet face to face.’
‘Then the contact might have been erased by accident a while back and you wouldn’t know, would you?’ She said it more like a statement than a question.
‘Yes, that could be right, too.’
She had a point. Was I jumping to conclusions? Maybe.
‘Send me the number when you get back to the office and I’ll contact him.’
‘Thanks. He mentioned that if you cannot get him on the line, to please leave a message and he’ll return the call as soon as possible.’
‘Don’t worry. Just leave that to me, Jay. And don’t think about this incident too much. Sometimes old friends are only envious about their friendship and don’t want their old mates to make new bonds — specifically with the opposite gender — because they fear losing their buddies totally. Actually, it’s predominantly a female trait, but it is prevalent across both genders. I’ll talk to Mr Cooper.’
‘Thanks,
Anita.’
TWENTY-ONE
Given what Jay now knew about Kumar — after listening to Bhīma’s tapes and meeting his wife in person and confirming the black eye — it was imperative that he met his client again, and soon. Besides, with the date for trial set, the judge having been appointed and the prosecutor agreed, he wanted to check if Kumar had any last-minute opinions or reversal of earlier ones. Kumar could easily plead guilty on account of self-defence. Self-de-fence is called Private-Defence and these provisions are conferred under IPC Sections 96 –106 and provide protection to both person and property. They cover commencement and continuance of the right of defence of body and of the right of defence of property respectively. It, rightfully, extends its sphere to include a reasonable apprehension of threat or danger, and that is the root of the law of self-defence. The violence used must be in proportion to the injury to be averted and must not be employed for the gratification of any vindictive or malicious feeling. Hence, if Gina Pinto had pulled the Glock on Vinay Kumar it could be legally argued and justified that, feeling a threat to his life, Kumar shot her in a fight. Perfect Private-Defence: it was in defence, not retribution.
Bhīma’s intelligence revealed that Kumar’s father was in hot water with the current political party supremo. So, although the self-defence plea would get Kumar acquitted by the court, the party still needed a squeaky-clean candidate. There could be no compromise on that. As such, with Kumar being a suspect and then being taken to court as the accused was already big news. If only Kumar could be somehow portrayed as a pawn in the opposition party’s game play — an innocent sacrificial lamb — sympathies would drastically improve his ratings and hence the party chief was waiting for the outcome. If all went well and it could be labelled as a smear campaign by the opposition, votes for Kumar would shower like rainfall in Cherrapunji. Sacking Vinay Kumar was easy and the party chief could do it anytime. It would be even simpler if the court found Kumar guilty.
What Jay needed to know was whether the party ticket meant more to Vinay Kumar than his freedom? Claiming self-defence might destroy his political career, but it would most certainly set him free.
‘We can put this as self-defence. Some altercation, you guys had a fight, she pulled a gun on you and—’