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Fiction: Hot on Wheels (16)

Chapter 16:

The music blew in air splitting fashion in the pub with riotous laughter, wild stomping of shoes, and screaming at high decibels.  Smoke billowed with the DJ high on mixed cocktails, alcohol flowing at the bar, boys and girls gyrating to the tunes, shaking and moving as if a storm has erupted inside their bodies touching, passionate kissing and making out for hips never lie.

Hardik stormed to the bar not to ask for another Vodka shot but a glass of icy cold water. He gyrated like a mad man and feeling dehydrated after gulping alcohol in frustration, vowing not to take a peg for another hour. Slouched on the stairs facing the dance floor, he lit a smoke and staring at a female. He still couldn’t believe his eyes: “Fuck, is she into women now. Am I still fucking drunk?”

Geet was dancing close to another woman, making seductive moves, serenading her and waltzing like a famished tigress. Running her hand on the other female hair and moving close to almost feeling her, Hardik couldn’t preen his eyes suffering successive jolts that like a heart attack and incapacitating the brain. Two women pouting and lips smacking passionately. And it was Roma. Shock number two. It feels like vaccine after effects, headache, heartbeat and chilled fever. What the fuck? How does she know her? He ran towards them and moving like a sandwich between both girls. Simply not interested in a threesome, their eyes told him. They cuddled playfully. 

Dejected, he slowly made few dance steps and pretended unaware not to lose face, ignoring other hot and single women at the bar who were smiling at him choosing to settle in a corner, dancing to and with himself.  Two women hugging and cuddled pushed past the crowd in frenzy, swerving left and right and trotting aimlessly towards the bar. Geet pressed her palm on the bar and speech slurred telling her company, “No baby let me order the drinks. It’s only me and you who matter.” “She’s my babe,” Geet tells the handsome barman that would pass for a steroid version of Tiger Shroff on another day. “I want two Tequilla. We want to Tequilla.” The handsome bar buy first enamored by Geet and immediately developed cold feet at the sight of her caressing and stroking the lip of another woman with the latter sucking into her finger. “You taste yum,” Roma winked. Tiger Shroff turned into Bobby darling placed the alcohol on the table, “Sure Ma’am.”

Geet insisted, “Baby! Let me carry both glasses to the dance floor…no no I insist. You are mine tonight and only me, no he or she. I wanna make mad love to you.” Roma sheepishly says, “I have never said no to you babe. Both women traipsed clumsily. Geet pushes Hardik aside who was on their heels and simply couldn’t believe his eyes. “Is she the same woman I was making mad love to sometimes back?  I feel like a man trapped into a woman’s body now looking at both of them. At least the consolation if they adopt me as sandwich and both devouring me to no end.”

He walked out of the pub feeling like a refugee in no man’s land and lit another cigarette. Dejected at the sight of two women ignoring him and making out unfazed, he made frantic calls to his friends who seemed to be ditching him tonight. At least, he would have got company and shoulders to sob but no those fuckers are conspiring against him. Hardik wanted to kick himself in the ass. “Why the fuck did I bake out this Roma story? No! This feels like some imaginary condom parachuting to hit me with volcanic force,” he muttered to himself.

He plodded his steps outside in the chilly weather and stormed back inside, seeing Geet and Roma slouched on couch with legs pressed on each other. “No!” Roma protested. “I want to make you drink the liquid. Open your mouth baby like a good girl,” she cuddled in a soft voice and caressing her curls. 

Geet protected, “You are babe. You love me, na. Why are you being naughty? It’s my special love to you, the nectar tequila.” Roma protested by shoving the glass but Geet pinched her hand. Roma yelped in pain. In a swift movement, Geet poured the alcohol swirling past mouth and tongue. She smiled and quickly slipped away from her towards the bar. “Dude, one Whisky neat…chote chote peg. Don’t look at me like that. I ain’t lesbo.” The barman smiled back with an evil gaze into his eyes.

The music blared out with remix songs Aisa Jadoo dala re, Kajra re, Oye Garmi, Dil Chori Chori and I am a bad girl, I like Whisky…nashe mein ho jate mein Risky.  Finally, Hardik’s gang joined late and was a sight watching Geet and Roma dancing, caressing and pulling each other’s close, letting hands away and almost flying to again pull tight to each other. 

In the flick of moments, Roma erupted like thunder and started shouting as if possessed by the demon of Shakti Kapoor, “My boyfriend has left me. I am so sad.” She started dancing in front of a couple and yelled, “My boyfriend has ditched me. Will you go out with me? She won’t mind,” pointing at the girlfriend. Nothing would stop her. She moved to a group of guys: “But, I hate all of you guys. I am a lesbo for tonight. Do you hear me? It’s her,” flicking her finger towards Geet. We will have the stormiest of sex. Hope you don’t mind?” she asked Hardik. He was at a loss of words and during the entire night, his friend pulled him constantly and asking, “Are you ok?”

Hardik ignored both women and started dancing with his friends who were giving him strange and mocking stares, and eyes twirled at his situation. Geet and Roma were off Hardik’s head for some time but sensed something was missing after some time. They looked around and couldn’t see either of the women. “Must be making out in the toilet. Go Hardik and make a movie with your mobile. Your MMS chance to be rich and make them famous. Truly Love, Sex aur Dhokha,” Harshini tapped his shoulder. The entire group of boys and girls laughed.

There was something unusual with both girls disappearing suddenly with the boys and girls looking out for them. The girls went inside the girls’ washroom to ask some people but couldn’t find anything or anyone and the boys frantically searching outside, running and buzzing on the phone which felt like a sci-fi thriller playing inside a pub and outside over drinks and lesbian act.  The dude scattered were like Angrezo ke zamane ke jailor with Hardik realized he was searching alone that felt like, ‘aadhe idhar jao aadhe udhar jao aur baaki hamare saath’. The search continued for some time and Hardik with friends couldn’t know where to find them running like mad past people, looking for intimate couple space, washrooms and parking outside.

A shadow in the dark washroom made Harshini and her two bodyguards Pranita and Falak yelp in pain. A woman’s eyes socket was pulling out and twirled at them like robot with body stuck on the wall almost tripping. The three women ran and saved her in time like in the good old Hindi movie from breaking her head on the floor. She was lying unconscious and inert in the arms of the three women. Harshini made desperate calls and berated the guys, “Listen, don’t give a fuck guys, just storm inside the ladies’ washroom.” Three men stood icy cold staring at the women and the half-unconscious one, breathing at short intervals, and lying in an alcohol coma. Hardik slowly approached her and a liquid spattered on his face straight from Geet’s mouth.



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Hot on Wheels (12)

Chapter 12:

The beautiful night glittered with fleeting stars and encapsulating silence in the Pune outskirt lending an old world charm, far away from the humdrum of noise and vehicles jarring in the main city.  Smoke curled in a circle and disappearing with the wind past the spacious balcony, buildings, hills and lake makes for a serene atmosphere.

Geet looked like a divine saintly woman in her white Kurti and bhindi on the forehead that she could easily pass for a religious woman doling blessings. Hardik stood at a distance, admiring the scenery and watching her in awe taking a drag. “Come close, “she nudged. “I won’t bite, promise baba.”

He made a guilt face. She laughed over it as if saying that’s alright. She took another puff and passed the cigarette to him, rubbing her hand on his palm and the male finger made round circle inside the flesh between her thumb and index.  She laughed, “Shocked about the ex-fiancée?”

He chuckled, “Are you asking me this question? I mean, it’s not that you cheated on me or some shit like that babe. Both of us wanted some action.”

Geet turned her face away towards him and sported a wry smile, “I just wanted to vent things in my own way and found in you, the perfect bakra.”

“Except that, I am a willing bakra and always looking for some swing,” he completed her sentence. He was hiding something but was too apparent to her.  Geet knew about Hardik’s jealousy pang when he tries to act all chilled out.

A single glass of dark wine stood on the cement slab which she tendered to him, “Except that we gotta share this one glass left pretty like our meaningless and emotionless sex.” He didn’t say anything and gulped without complaining. Sip by sip. No cheating. One sip for her and the next for him. Poor wine feeling like a joint playing musical chair conjuring drowsiness for both of them in a single glass.

“How does it feel to screw things up for me dude?” Geet asks nonchalantly. There was no anger but a lovelorn smile on her face and playing with her curls. She burst into an uninterrupted laugh and the next moment rollicking on the floor.

“Dude! That shit was embarrassing. Not me! Poor Ginni took over on air for me. I am smart that way, once you called and I passed the mike to her. She had no option but to entertain you. What fucking shit went into your head to profess love on air as in like L-O-V-E. Felt light kya?

Hardik was embarrassed at this remark and on spur of the moment was caught off guard for his back-to-back stupid acts and a sense of hurt. He couldn’t help it seeing her laughing at his feeling. How he hates being vulnerable. But Geet was hiding her shortcomings by indulging in this antic and warding off her emotions. She was tired of a quick bang with only one man. She is not the type of getting laid with many but only one giving her the immense joy and experience of scoring with different men. He was different men in one, a wholesome package to her. It scared her that both are in the same situation, same college and longing for each other. How to tell him that she is looking for something serious with him? She rolled a joint and took a long drag, almost passing out.

Hardik leaned on the floor and pressed her hands as she sprawled the head on the reclining chair. She tossed her eyes and was enjoying this massage. Better than sex, she thought.

She went into a slumber. The wine was playing havoc on his head and he splattered, “You asked how does it feel to screw things up? I didn’t! Yes, I am jealous. Perhaps, you are not listening and enjoying maharani nap. Should I tell how much I became restless, doing the running around, chasing you on campus, frantic heartbeat, fear of losing you and behaving like a mad person on the road? Perhaps, I am selfish and so used to you when I sat inside CCD, thinking you would miraculously pop inside.  I heard your voice on the radio. I didn’t know what went inside my head and called to declare my love for you if that’s what you wanna know. No! I am unapologetic and not sorry for doing that.”

She didn’t react and feigned sleep, taking long breaths, wondering the what and hows of facing each other next.  He wanted to ask about Jim, feeling a tinge of jealousy, trying hard to hide the expression on his face and wanting to run away. A strange sensation ran deep inside him about the other guy. Who was him? Did they have sex? Should he ask her or not?

Geet slowly got up and sat in a relaxing position.  “In case you wondering, this guy was my fiancée for a couple of months fixed by Mom. I hated him and was suffocated in this relationship. One day, I ran away from home after a fight for there was no interest in marrying him. I sneaked out. You were a random guy. You looked decent. We fucked because I wanted to get back at my parents. But, you were not just anyone. I sensed a deep connection with you, believe it or not.”

He felt as if she heard his confession and didn’t sleep at all. He lied, “I never asked you about him. If you don’t feel like speaking, no need to justify.” “I am not justifying but just telling. I wouldn’t give a fuck even if you think I am a slut,” she told. Her words shocked him, ‘How on earth she can be so direct and casual about things.’

Lying naked in the morning, they didn’t penetrate each other. Hardik got up from the bed. She woke up from her sleep and drowsy eyes furtively followed his steps to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and removed a bottle of icy, cold water. A cold sensation dripped on his chest. A pair of hands pressed onto his skin, swiftly down till the stomach up and down, bodies pressed together. The water gulped ran deep inside and human touch stirring at speed of waterfall, making a contrast of hot and cold.

“I hate saying this…Oh my! Holy crap,” Geet’s voice slurred. “I mean, I love you. Tomorrow morning, I may deny saying it. I know I will deny saying,” she choked. A sense of heaviness lifted off her chest in a shrilled voice and soared with emotions hitting an octane. There was complete silence. Hardik heaved. He didn’t know what to say.

It felt like a snippet piercing his chest. A silence killed him and lunged on his flesh. He didn’t know how to respond to the love confession. They lay still, stuck to each other and her lip cupped on his neck. He slowly moved his hand and holding tight to her palm, like statues for minutes felt longer than an entire night spent awake. The lovers drenched in the silence and no words were needed to experience the feeling passing through the minds.



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Hot on Wheels (11)

Chapter 11

“I am done with this mental ejaculation of you silly women,” Hardik calmly says. Both turned towards him with mouths gaped open as if someone has injected a jab on their jaws. Jimmy’s level of confusion just hit a peak and threw himself on the couch, “OK! Women! I don’t know who is faking what but I just want my CD prize and date. Sort it out among yourselves on who will be my Date.”

“It’s me. No question about it, “RJ Ginny repeated herself as if she suddenly turned into an actor repeating well-rehearsed lines.  “Except that we don’t fake orgasm,” Geet let off. Hardik walked towards the coffee machine and pressed the button. He held the hot plastic cup and walked towards the trio. Geet jerked herself towards the coffee holder in a swift movement and he lost control trying to save both damsels in distress and coffee. The plastic cup volleyed in the direction of two legs spread open on the couch showing his asset, zipped tight in the denim. Jimmy yelped, “Dude! What is fucking wrong with you?” He looked like a mess with the hot liquid spurting and covering his denim and flowing, unable to save his inside.

Ginni couldn’t stop laughing at the shell-shocked guest at the radio station. “Dude, did you just coffee pee all over the place in the radio studio. Gotta be breaking news had Arnab Goswani spotted you.” He jemmied towards Hardik but couldn’t move with the slim-fit jeans getting stickier. 

He strutted with difficulty and moving away from the couch and shouted, “Ok! I am off from this asylum and weird shit hole called radio station in the company of monkeys. Fuck you! Fuck your date! Fuck your hamper! Fuck you guys.” The emasculated guy trotted slowly as if somebody hit him in his private. Geet winked at Hardik. He knew she faked the tripping on him and on the spur of the money Ginni had to call out, “Jimmy dude! A promise is a promise, 98261******.”

The lovers couldn’t believe what she just did. Geet was ready to pounce on her friend and break her face after she turned all her efforts into waste. “Woman! Have you gone off and so fucking desperate that you want to be on a date with that weirdo? Are you some Lara Croft trapped into the body of Ekta Kapoor’s Nagin character? Or wait! I have a better idea and you aspiring to join politics? Smriti Irani is your idol. You are Tulsi Virani, except you are tired of getting laid and you fancy the spilled coffee for his liquid. Craving for ice cream scoop.”

A middle finger flung at the flustered hero, declaring self-love on radio for his honey. “You, yes you, I am speaking to,” Geet turned into a wounded tigress. He turned around to see if there was another male inside the station. “I am speaking to you. What’s up with this hero giri of declaring love to me on air?” What was the need for you to dash into the radio station? You’ve messed the whole thing.” Hardik made an apologetic face at both women and drooled over Ginni, giving her sos look. “This man in distress wants to ask about your virginity,” Geet teased her friend.

Ginni lit a cigarette and asked him, “Wanna smoke?” He lifted his finger to take a stick from her pack and she wrestled it away, “Cigarettes are like condom. You should always bring yours… Arre I’m just kidding.” She lit the smoke for him. Geet was amused watching them.

 “Dude! Are you in love with me?,” the RJ asked. “Oh! No! Somebody please fuck me. I am meeting you for the first time.” She winked, “Obviously you are cuckoo and ladoo for her,” pointing fingers at Geet. He didn’t know where to look. “Dude, you actually called not her but me on radio…”

He blabbered, “What? She is you. I mean you are not her…I mean it was Geet I spoke on radio. It’s her voice na.”

“Arre dakkan. I am Ginni. She is Geet.” The latter chipped in, “Even if I was her, what’s the need for you to land in this studio. You have no fucking idea how things would get so horrible,” She was in no mood to hide the ex-fiance and started shouting at him. He tried to protest.

“Dude, you just shut the fuck up? You have no fucking idea how you actually royally screwed my ass on radio…almost.  I was called to do an audition with her. The radio was looking for someone and after giving the exam papers, I drove here in the mad Pune traffic, almost hitting someone dead. Yes! It was me on air but just like a cunt you had to blow things up. Who are you? Some fucking Jesus Christ! Saint Valentine or what…majnu ke aulaad that you had to call on radio. Some Mother Theresa or Anna Hazare that you were worried that someone would kidnap me.”

“What? What did I do?”, he made a doe-eyed face.

“Yeah, right you are Babe Amte…I do all the fucking and you sit and watch, asshole,” Geet was furious. Ginni tried to calm her down and stood between both of us. The last thing she wanted is her friend hitting him. Angry woman wouldn’t relent and ignored the human woman, “Yaa dude! You just screwed my fucking audition and the first thing pretending all hero calling on the radio declaring your flame…dude in front of everyone,” she was incensed.

“Are we playing Kabutar jaa jaa? What next do you plan to do? Clip the wings of a random pigeon with a love letter and send it to my home?”

“Why would I do that?” he replied in monosyllable.

“Yeah! You couldn’t hold yourself to spread some raita so much that you had to follow me all the way to the radio station. You expect me to be so happy and showering you with arati…Sardani bohot khush hogi na and shabhashi degi. What are you thinking? I was a damsel in distress…akeli ladki khulli tijori and you have to play superman saving me. No! Actually not superman but Shaktimaan.”

He muttered apologies. “Dude! What sorry! You have no idea of this screw-up of declaring flame for me on antenna. Btw, do you know the entire story,” she calmed.

Ginni says, “Dude! I am the RJ and not her.”

“What…it’s getting spooky, this radio station,” he lost his voice.

“Because, baby, when you confessed love, I took over, “Ginni was seductively playing around, flirting and caressing her hair.  “You kept saying I love you to me. I was wondering whether you are human or an elephant. I was feeling hard inside listening to a man so desperate.” Geet’s stomach churned, by breaking into concatenate laughter by listening to her friend.

“Just look at her,” Geet protested against her friend for laughing and at Hardik, “Don’t look at her and buy into her flirty flirty games. There is no cock confusion for Madam RJ keeps getting laid like protein milkshake.” The man and Miss Protein Milkshake choked. “Shocked,” she asked.  

“Except Jim Beam is no aphrodisiac for my liquid. He’s Geet’s ex-fiance and she banged you immediately after breaking it off,” RJ G turned into a rocket and hit an arrow swelling straight into Hardik’s heart.



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Hot on Wheels: Chapter 10

“What is he doing here…noo…noo…noo…it cannot fucking happen?,” Geet turned red and was on the verge of a panic attack. She almost flung the CD lying on the table towards RJ G, “Why the fuck your name starts with G and if it does, why be so cool and peppy?! RJ G. My ass! Just plain call yourself Ginni. It’s not ugly or you getting laid with so many and you don’t wanna be exposed.”

“Relax babe. Just tell me how on earth it’s my fault. It’s him right,” Ginni asked. The guy caked his face on the glass panel, admiring the guitar, suddenly took a fancy to the musical instrument, microphone, cue speakers and audio process.

“No! I mean definitely no,” Geet almost fainted.

“But, who! I have many stalkers and the last thing I want is the new dude fancying me. Let me call the guards,” Ginni flipped open her mobile phone.

“No! No! No. He’s not the guy who called you by declaring love just now. I mean, he is yes, not the one I am screwing. But, this one is someone else,” Geet fidgeted with her hands. She looks dismayed.

Ginni held her friend’s shoulders and pushed her on the sofa. “Water?” she asked. Geet gulped the icy glass of water down the throat. “The guy who called is no stalker, except you have one. He is Hardik. I am having a scene with him. But, Babe I am not in love,” she flailed her hands in the air.

“Okies! Now that we know the guy standing outside the studio is different from the one declaring love for me on air is your toy boy or whatever, studying and fucking together, may I know who is this one staring at both of us?  Geet leaped on her feet, “He’s was my fiancée I ditched for fuckboi. Now, what is he doing here? Why is he in this as in this studio? How does he know that I am here? He is a fucking weirdo, do you know that! Just look at his monkey face,” she shoved her middle finger.

“OK,” Ginni reacted in a monosyllable, “We don’t have a choice, except open the door for him and let him in. Asking what he’s up to. The last thing you don’t want babe is screwing things for you, NOW,” She casually but firmly told.  As amused as she was, RJ walked to slide open the door and he popped inside by offering his firm handshake, “Jimmy.”

“OK! Jimmy how can I help you? I am RJ G.” He gaped at the radio equipment like a toddler at the sight of candies slunk at the supermarket. “I won the film contest and you promised to get me a Valentine date.” RJ G burst out laughing. “Oh! My! Sorry sorry, Jimmy. I forgot for one instant about your Valentine date. Have a seat.”

Geet was hiding in the room behind the studio. Ginni dashed inside and wore a wry smile, “Ok! Problem not yet solved. He’s a listener who won a contest. OK! Sorry! I goofed up.” Geet was incensed, “That’s why you called me to be his blind date and for all the men on earth, you got me this guy. That too, my ex fiancée I ran away from and breaking the engagement praying I to never ever see him in the world.” 

“Now, what do we do?” both of them spoke at the same time. The bell rang. Ginni forcefully tagged Geet along and she reluctantly walked to face Jimmy. Both stared at each other. “You,” Jimmy yelped. She maintained her composure, “You, dude. I can ask you the same question. What are you doing here?”

He looked confused and was unsure what to tell her. Seeing Geet in the most unlikeliest of places felt bizarrely odd and how her parents called to tell the engagement is off. He muttered, “You never called to tell me we are no longer together. I didn’t expect that.” All she could tell was, “Dude! Do you expect me to call and tell that I run away from my own house! What do you expect me to do? Call you and say I am leaving my parents’ home for forcing this stupid engagement on me and let’s do live-in.”

The encounter was getting bizarre. She wanted to press the sanitizer lying on the table on his face. Oh! Somebody, please save me. The God that doesn’t exist. Hail! Hail! She wanted to cry. RJ G walked inside and a guy followed her. He stopped at the sight of Jimmy. The new entrant smiled, “Dude! Do we know each other? Cool studio, by the way. Do you work here?”

He went on a spree asking Jimmy so many questions. He looked flustered.  Geet wanted to bury her face and nearly collapsed, looking right, left, left and right. On one side, Hardik entered, and on the other, Jimmy. Both looked as if some bromance a la Dostana gonna happen. The lover boy’s eyes veered towards Geet as if she committed the perfect crime. “So! Finally! I catch you with a random guy. Are you into threesome and it feels like sandwich sprinkled with pakoda and gobi munchurian?” he broke the lamest joke.

“Dude! I am not nonveg,” Geet protested. “Me too,” Jim and Ginni repeated in unison. “Do you know each other?” Jimmy asked. “Do you?,” Hardik countered. “Of course, we do.” Both men laughed. Four faces went blank for this eccentric and strange introduction.

Jimmy felt uneasy and spoke in slurred motion, “She was my…” Ginni jumped in quick and acted as the savior, “He’s my guest. I mean both of you are.  Jimmy, you haven’t yet won and competition with Hardik.” Geet and Hardik turned to Ginni, “What!!!” It was Hardik’s turn, “I mean, who are you to host a competition between us? Some Pehelwan sitting in a radio studio.”  She winked, “Well! Guys! Battle of sexes. Who gets to take me out for a dinner date? Geet is the RJ. I am the girl to play around.” 

The whole scene was getting too confusing for the three of them, except Ginni leading the game. “So, whom did I speak to for this filmi contest?” Jim innocently asked, “I thought it was you!” “It was her, baby. I know you guys are confused. Wohi toh game hai. It’s called the musical chair of love,” Ginny brewed a storm.

Hardik confidently brushed the confusion aside, “Arre! I am not confused. I know! Spoke to Geet on radio. Geet is not Ginni and Ginni is not Geet.” Both girls pressed their lips and the last thing they wanted to do is murder this spoilsport. He is resembling right now the guy who burst the surprise birthday party balloon.”  

Jimmy doubted this whole saga unfurling right now. He is feeling like a tennis ball flung in different directions on the court. It was beyond his wildest imagination to meet the girl who broke heart and engagement, seeing her inside a radio studio and the cherry on cake is she was acting like an innocent chick kinda abla naari turning into an invisible RJ. He has just been ghosted. He let off, “Where did all that came from? I thought we spoke on radio,” pointing his fingers at Ginni.

Something was wrong. He felt like the unwanted Prince, pretty much like Lord Ram in an alienated Ayodha and the trio playing Kaikeyis without the banwas. Geet stared at Hardik. He has become immune to her growling of tooth, eyes and fiery look. “Shut up! Fucking shut up everyone,” Hardik yelped.

Everyone went blank silent in the studio. Geet wore an astounded look and shocked at the guy she loves dominating both on bed and everywhere on the planet. He miraculously toned down, “Ladies and odd gentleman, yes you Jimmy, what do you think you are Jim Beam whisky. We will get drunk on your charming and innocent look. The girls will start singing Jimmy…Jimmy…aaja aaja. I just fucking want to know what you are up to here! I am going mad with everyone so fucking confusing everybody. Why are you here? Who the fuck are you?”

“And, who the fuck are you?” Jimmy countered back.

“What are you doing here I may ask,” he continued.

Hardik gave him I don’t give a fuck attitude, “India is a free country, except you are lust love kinda bhakt, dude. I am following this girl. Any problem,”

Jimmy laughed sardonically, “I mean, why on earth would I give a fuck? I won the radio contest and one among those two promised to give me a hamper plus a date with any one of them. You can go fuck yourself.”

RJ G popped in and after all, those two guys have left her with no choice. “Ok guys. We have a serious problem. I am the date. Geet is not. Let’s sort it out or else both of you guys get out of my office.”

“Your office,” both guys sauntered. “Ok sorry, sorry! Her office, not mine. But, right now, we are here and both of you are the outsiders.



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Hot on Wheels: Chapter 9

The campus was brimming with the college crowd swarming to the main circle with books in hands. Hardik held stack of Xerox copies in hand, walking restlessly and trying to remember concepts and equations. He straddled aimlessly unaware of the crowd watching him learning by rote and tension wearing thin on his face.

Boys and girls, squatted on the stairs and cement slab discussing the paper, some were chilled about the exams with the rest running amok checking roll numbers on their hall tickets.  Geet was non-plussed and walked at leisure. She slapped him gently and yelped with excitement, “Hey! All ready. A-7.” She casually said.

He felt jittery and almost shrieked. “Chill dude,” she winked. “It’s just the semester exams. Have a chill pill,” she snatched his Xerox. “Wow, padhaku (book worm) you prepared so many notes for the Psychology exams. Freud Mama would be so proud of you.”

He let off, “You are back so soon,” she completed, “And in time for the exams. I reached by train this morning and gulped three cups of strong coffee. Hardly had time to sleep ya and this stupid exam had to happen today.” Talking to her and seeing her super chilled soothed him. He found himself saying, “Ya forget the notes and let’s see how much I remember the concepts. “That’s my boy,” she quipped. “You like me na and will do whatever I say.”

He stammered, “I mean no, yes, no kinda,” unsure what to tell. One thing he hates admitting of being in love for she never declared her flame, wondering how an average guy like him can get a hot chick like Geet. The guys drooled over her. She was unfazed about the eyes bobbing and heads turning at her sight.

The clock struck thrice and students hopped on their feet, clambering on the wooden stairs and making a beeline to enter the hall. Geet hugged him and stole a peck on his cheek. He hugged her tight. “Now, move. All the best dude,” she shouted. He walked towards the bench. She smiled watching him inching towards the desk. It was a miracle, scribbling on the answer sheets, filling the margins and asking for extra papers.

Geet’s effect has been playing like musical notes and the forgotten concepts waltzed in his brain. Looking around, he couldn’t find her at the desk. Where the fuck she disappeared, he wondered. Is she done writing? There were 30 minutes left and he gave back the answer sheet, running for his life, past the canteen, library and the Kimaya ground to find her.

She disappeared from the campus. He sensed frantic heartbeats. Why is he longing for her and getting restless? Nah, he brushed it aside. It cannot be love. This cannot be happening to me. How much I am pushing away my feeling for her and her face haunts me like crazy. I am going mad. He is shaking, walking past the gate at Fergusson College and crossed the crazy traffic and horns, to walk inside CCD.

The English song blared through the ears and laughs of the crowd, couple cuddling and stealing kisses. He felt odd sitting alone in the smoking bar, ordered a cappuccino with black forest cake. Lit a cigarette, he took a sip of coffee, meandered in thoughts and didn’t realize that the English song was shifted to the Hindi chartbuster, Dil Chori Chori Ho Gaye from Sonu Ki Titu Ki Sweety. He swayed to the tune and forgot Geet and his pursuit, drowned in the music when a chirpy voice crooned, “Radio Mirchi pe mein aap ke host, dost aur hamsafar. I have a question for you: What is love? What is lust? Can love and lust be the sides of the same coin? Love can be lust buried in relics and lust is love hidden. Listen to the heartbeats and drum beating. Are you? This is love. Trust your heart. Whatsapp me your favorite song and connect with me on Facebook and Instagram. Listen to this beautiful romantic song for love is and can never be incomplete without me. Aha! Guess my name for my work is to love you. I shall take my first caller of the day.”

I have my first caller of the day. “Hello,” RJ G greeted in a seductive voice and tongue curled on top of her palette and stroking. “Heylo…”

“Hi RJ,” a shy, male voice hesitated and cracked.

“Hey! Loverboy! Don’t be shy. Take a deep breath and say I love you to me.”

 “Heylo sexy baby, there,” the RJ was flirting with him. I love you. What’s your name?”

“Well, RJ G it’s me. We know each other and pretend to be far away from each other. You may pretend that I am invisible and a stranger but your heart knows deep inside”, he regained his confidence and encouraged by G. “Yes, You love me, I know that. You are Geet. Why did you run away from exams? I searched for you on the entire campus. Are you pranking me?”

She fell silent for an instant. “Hello, Are you a stalker? I am no Geet. Yes, I play Geet (song) on radio,” the usual seductiveness was missing on faces in the studio. “I know it’s you, babe,” he persisted. He didn’t what went into his head. “I love you my G. You love me too.”

RJ G didn’t have any choice, “I love you, too sexy boy.” She plays another song, “Mein hoon aapke dost aur humdard aap ke favourite RJ. All you singletons listen to this cool Hook Up song. The music blazed loud on radio.

They looked at each other inside the recording studio. “Do you know him,” RJ G asked? “He actually declared his love for you. Geet’s face became red and didn’t know what fell on her head. “Yes! And you had to play this fucking Hook Up song. Screwed!”

“As in babe,” G was puzzled.

“We screwed each other not once but several things. He’s in my class. Didn’t know it will lead to so much intensity,” Geet.

RJ G burst out laughing at Geet. Somebody stared at both the girls from the glass panel, watching one girl laughing madly and the other looking shell shocked in the colorful decked studio with mic, monitor and equipment. He was fascinated.

“Aha,” G made a mocking smile, “Your man. Go invite him,” moving her eyebrow to nudge at Geet’s direction. The latter didn’t know what to do and was planning to murder him.



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Hot on Wheels: Chapter 8

The cab screeched in front of the gate at Hari Om apartments in South Bombay. It was unusually dark everywhere. The lights went off and the building wore a haunted look. They slid past the metal gate. The bored guard was slouching and slumbering on the plastic chair didn’t give a damn who entered and exit the building. He plainly told them it was a complete black out.

Geet and Hardik silently trudged the stairs towards the 12th floor as they gasped for breath. The light flashing on the mobile phone guided them towards the apartment as they stopped in front of the door, spotting the ceramic flower pot. Both lifted the flower pot with force, sieving through, moving it angularly left and right, before the key smothered in mud landed on the floor. The door opened after twisting like a coke cap.

Geet trotted quickly inside to close the door on Hardik’s face. He banged the door. There was silence inside the house and she didn’t reply to his plea for seconds and minutes. “What are you up and would you open the door.” His phone beeped, “You gatecrashed. It’s your punishment. Sit in the dark for some time.”

The light miraculously came after one hour. Hardik felt weak and depleted of energy, spreading his long legs plonked on the stairs. A noise distracted him. The tired man dashed and pushed his shoulder, flinging inside just in time as the door flapped and shut behind him. The speck clean ceramic floor in the hall shone with a pair of earring lying on the floor. 

He picked it and traipsed inside, “Geet, what game are you playing?” A pink envelope was splayed on the floor. He slid it open with the lip gloss scribbled in red, “Somebody…somebody waiting for U with the night’s secret!” and walked to the kitchen, greeted by shiny red socks on the floor. The eyes squinted at the scented envelope, “Pick it up.”

There was no movement. He waded inside the room and wall graffiti stared at him, “The end is near. Enter the labyrinth.” A chill flew like an electric wave down his spine and Hardik almost tripped on a white skirt and blouse, picking them up one by one, wading inside another room with fluorescent black bra scattered on the floor. He walked past the sliding door jutted across the balcony, giving an aerial view of South Bombay.

Red handkerchief fluttered on the metal rail. He inched close towards the balcony and pressed his body to the wall, head bent towards the ground, wondering whether she jumped. He felt dizzy when a dim, red light shone brightly on his face. Red handkerchief wrapped on his palm and holding bra, earring, female underwear and socks in all colors adorned on the neck as if he was wearing a tie, unaware of a huge room hidden from the inside and spotted from the balcony.

He felt a windy storm stroking his back and quivered, sending a chill running with spasm down his spine. He trotted inside and frantic heartbeat led him into the spacious room, fading light flashed on the spacious bed, curled hair cut and splayed on the white mattress. A thin and toned bare back turned with hands on the wall as if posing for the paparazzi. 

Hardik was frantic, admiring the curled hair falling slightly on the neck. She simpered naked in a seductive movement and slowly turned her face towards him. He couldn’t muster the courage to look into the famished eyes. She flicked her leg on the male chest and pushing him on the bed. She leaned on him and stroking his hair and face smeared on his cheek and moving her lip gently on his mouth. “Don’t say anything. The night is glittering with bridled sensuality, not just me and you.” He couldn’t speak and voice choked at this hidden side of Geet. She laughed, “It’s not just you who needs everything. I desire everything about the male body.”

Red lacquered fingers scratching his chest with force, tearing his shirt button. Faces and lips cupped, smearing his cheek and nose, she twirled her leg on his stomach. The shocked man couldn’t budge. Her voice growled and bewitching into his ears, “You are jailed now. Look around.” Pierced voice and witch-like sensation sent chill, she moved her naked body slowly. He tossed his head around, seeing colourful display of sex toys in white, pink, red and yellow displayed on the wooden table.

He felt a pair of hands opening his belt and unbuttoning his denim. “Not feeling anything,” she teased. “Count one, two and three, breathe. You are in for surgery. Just lie. Relax. Breathe in and out. Her hand slowly massaged into his thing, fingers ran deep inside and smeared ointment, a, pressing hard on the top. He squelched with pain and passion, muttering with difficulty, “I never knew this side of you.”

She moved up and rolled her tongue licking on his chest with speed, slipping beneath. It felt ecstatic. She moaned and caressing him inside. Hardik wanted it to end and biting his lip, suppressing pain. Geet was a wounded tigress. Both were lying naked. She was bold, exploring zone where no woman not even herself has ever gone with a man, breaking away from shame and shackles.

“Love sucks,” she moved her lip. What’s sex without fun and off-limits on our date? Cheerz to our time and my time.” Her boob brushed his chest, accompanying the trembling fingers exploring and holding, pressing into her nipples. She was in the driver’s seat. He was the servant. They changed position. He bit and sucked into her nipples.

“I could have sex with anyone and you everyone,” she laughed. She pulled him off the bed and placed his hands on her bosom, turning into circle and jettisoning towards the wall. She pulled herself, with gravitational force. He went ahead and pressed on her, moving lips sucking into her ears and hands holding her waist, caressing her boobs with intensity. She moaned with pleasure. He bent down, licked her back, slow caress and massage running deep from top to toe. I want more. 

Geet repeated one, two, and thrice. She pulled him to the bed and caressing the edge of the zones, running her fingers deep inside him. She lay strewn like flowers on the bed, opening her legs, spoke in a calm demeanor and voice stirred, losing her breath, “Finger me. Don’t stop.”

“What,?” he asked. He couldn’t wait to get inside her. “Baby, you have competition. Who is better your fingers or the sex toys?” He bent and licked her vagina, running his tongue inside gently and reaching intensity. Fingers traced a circled line around, repeating the movement with palm pressing around the flesh. Geet moved and tossed her head in a circle. She was already in love with him and knew he was the one. She breathed and moaned. 

 He licked her and pressed his fingers inside. “Don’t stop…please I beg of you.” She moved her flawless skin, hugging him and winked thinking, “The last time to trouble him today.” The corner of her eyes saw something shining and she felt something was under the mattress. It was the duplicate key.
She moved away from him. “I challenge you for the last time.” Plain and period. Geet’s face was blank and expressionless. “Prove what do you have in you.” He was flabbergasted and bemused, slowing returning to his normal state, losing the mojo of arousal and feeling his inside melting cold. The moment was lost.

Her eyes pointed at the window, “Jump. Take the lift when you come back,” flinging the house key on his face. He felt weak in his knee, “Are you fucking mad or what? Is this a prank! Are you fucking asking me to jump from the window? Babe, it’s on the 12th floor. You will be jailed for murder. Tu cheez hai kya.”

“I want to test whether you can fuck and hold me inside. What if I tell that we’re in love? Should I repeat, JUMP. Remember no jumping, no mad sex. I promise it will be not just desert but honeyed heaven. Baba! Kuch nahin hoga. Just see.” He could see the sun radiating in the water inside the swimming pool.

“Still it’s a big risk baba. Not one but running 12 floors jettisoned in the air. It’s no child’s play,” he protested.

“Jump gandu,” she sat naked and rolled a joint.
Hardik pulled his jeans. She snatched it away from him. “You are Hard Dick, live to your name and let it hang in the air. He was trembling, standing on the edge of the window’s sill. She thought he looked like superman in his blue underwear. “Ready! One two three,” she nudged him. The entire male body was shaking with legs and body engulfed by fear. She moved both palms with force.

 He jumped. The body oscillated into somersault movement, traversing windows and blocks with the speed of light, splashing into the huge swimming pool.
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Hot on Wheels: Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Geet flipped a cigarette from the fresh pack and lit with curled smoke blowing into ringlets disappearing with the wind billowed past the half arc surrounding the seas. She took a drag and intensely admired the sea breeze at Marine Drive, standing alone on the parapet, wondering on the last couple of days. She gave Hardik cold stares for almost a week and secretly wished that he would leave dejectedly for Pune. Both of them were missing college. The strategy backfired and compelled Hardik to stay back in Mumbai. He was hell-bent on wooing her.

The phone beeped. It was Hardik Whatsapping, “Reaching in another 30 minutes. I am inside the train.” He cajoled her back into speaking to him. She was confused about him, one moment drew to him and the next, there were no emotions left in her heart. Geet could be cold as the ice cube difficult to break. He is a good guy and ready to leave all everything, doing the run around for me, she took another drag.

Hardik walked at a fast pace and suddenly dashed in her direction. He was panting for breath and hugged her forcefully. “Water,” she asked. “Hmm,” his voice broke. “I want water to drink and sitting in this heat, waiting for you. She snatched his bag and pulled open the water bottle. She gulped the liquid down the throat. He wondered, “Here I am breathless and running all the way to catch the bus and train at Andheri to Churchgate. She didn’t see that I am craving to be in her company and instead, of offering me, she quenched her thirst.”

Geet asked unfazed, “Have some. You must be thirsty.” He slowly twisted the bottle open and spilled the drop inside the throat. He could breathe and enjoyed the cold liquid flowing down the throat. Hardik was oblivious that she was doing everything on purpose and to appear ruthless but deep down she cared for him.

“Are we going back to Pune,” she asked.

It felt something hitting him on the head. “What? Weren’t you supposed to be in Mumbai for a long time?

“Hello! It was meant to be two days trip and you followed me all the way, complicating matters. We ended up staying for two weeks. I think it’s now time to go back and because of you, I missed all the important lectures. Dude, we are screwed.”

“Taxi,” she shouted. The black-and-yellow cab slowed down and she dragged him inside the car. The vehicle slowly moved away from Marine Drive and ambled towards Chowpatty, taking a left turn near Wilson College. In no time, they reached Kemps corner.

“I don’t have any clothes and not even a bag with me. Just a wallet for the cab and train ticket! Are you always like that, Geet,” he protested?

“Stop whining. It’s not that you are a beggar and you live in an apartment with all your stuff in Pune. Who told you to follow me all the way to Mumbai and inside the taxi,” she was nonchalant.

“But,” he wailed.

She asked the cab driver, “Bhaiya aur kitna time lagega Dadar paunchne ke liye (How long it will take in reaching Dadar)?” The driver said, “Aagey bohot traffic hoga madam and ek ghanta lagega. (There is lots of traffic ahead and we will reach in another hour).” Geet turned towards him and faces cupped to each other, “See, we still have time and one hour. That’s a lot, dude.”

“What do you want to do?” he playfully says.

“Stop your bull crap. I just want to know how on earth you got the keys into Maasi’s flat. You would be in jail by now. Don’t raise your hands. I want an answer.” He averted her gaze and there was no way he would let her in the loop.

“I am waiting Hardik,” she sounded like a school teacher.

He innocently says, “Where are you stretching this whole thing? Ok! I am sorry and shouldn’t have taken you to someone’s house who turned out to be your Maasi. We ran away from the cops. I escaped pandu like mad aimlessly to land inside the housing society. Found the key under the flower pots.” Hardik realized that he spilled more than he wanted to her.

She concatenated into laughter, “What, you were chased by the cops. Sorry, sorry?” she apologized for the laugh. He felt silly. “Go on,” she simpered. “Tell the story. And, I thought you were banging some Tinder chick and took her there.”

“I’ve been telling you that you are jealous, thinking am scoring some chicks on Tinder,” he told.

“I knew that bastard,” she smiled.

“Hello! How I wish to be that lucky,” he told.

“Stop nurturing hopes. At least be thankful that I am the only one without being your girl. You just carry a condom pack with hopes. And, I didn’t mean you are scoring,” she laughed.

He protested. “OK! Sorry dude. Are you a thief?”, she was apologetic.

“No,” he was incensed.

“A closet gay doubling as a pimp. Wait you must be into the mafia and Dawood man in India,” she pulled him uninterruptedly.

He almost fainted, “Oh! No.”

Geet cajoled him, “Ok sorry. You better tell me who chased whom and I hope not a skirt but khaki after you. I am dying to know if the danda (stick) entered your ass. I will check later if you don’t tell me the story.”

“Shut up bitch and listen,” Hardik punched.

“Yes, bastard, go on,” she egged on him.

“Arre that night, I met a couple of friends. It was raining and almost midnight when we were boozing at Gokul, ordering Old Monk. We were in the mood but they decided to close earlier, fearing a raid.”

She asked, “So, they caught you guys?”

“Nopes. We bought two extra bottles. We took the cab to Central and got down to spot a row of apartments on the main road. We decided to hide near the huge trees sprawling near the gates of apartments and were boozing when a police jeep stopped. Dude, you cannot imagine how much I ran that day and leaving my friends who went in different directions. I ran aimlessly past a gate and plodded the stairs. I felt that I would die. The cops were on our heels. The corridor was empty and felt ghostly when my leg accidentally kicked the flower pot. I saw a shining metal. It was the key to the apartment.”

She listened to him in the car as if reading a novel or watching a Netflix movie. “And, you entered inside?” she was keen to know

“Obviously. It was do or die. A miracle escape. I overheard the cops heels outside with a torch and was relieved when they said to each other, “Saala, gandu log. Let’s go and they went off.”

“This was the only apartment you ever found to hide your ass from the cops. Look at your dare and guts man. You took me there. We ended up having the most heated sex and not for once, did I realize it was Maasi’s apartment? So shameless. What if Mom had a duplicate key and saw us naked,” Geet felt a chill.

“I don’t know, babe. What would we do? And, you are no less,” he reproached.

“Oh! Mr is so innocent and took his girlfriend…not girlfriend but a chick out there,” she corrected herself. Geet repeated, “No girlfriend. It was a slip of tongue and you better get that. What were you saying that I am no less?”

“You crazy woman. When aunty was at the door, you dragged me inside the room and pushed me out of the window. I was hanging out there, wearing jeans without underwear. It hurt like hell. You made me hang in the air and my hands held on to the cement pole for my life. Are you obsessed with vertigo or what? Is this your idea of BDSM.

Geet was laughing so much and her stomach hurt. “Wait! Wait! Wait! Where are the keys? The papers?” He was confused, “Which papers?”

“Arre screw that. The affidavit and we must have left it there. Also, we had a duplicate key! I think Mom misplaced it. Wait, she must have left it inside the apartment. Let’s go back,” Geet was shouting.

“What is wrong with you,” he was at a loss of words.

“Fuck you,” Geeta shut him. “Bhaiya, gaadi ko ghumao (Turn the car), Mumbai Central. Double paisa doongi ( I will pay double).”



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Hot on Wheels: Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

“What the fuck were you doing?” she asked in a firm voice at the coffee shop. He didn’t know what to reply and where to look. There was absolutely no way to pacify Geet and her eyes were spitting fire.  Having an inkling what’s coming his way, Hardik took another sip of coffee and casually asked, “So, when are you coming to college? I am thinking to leave for Pune in a couple of days.”

“Don’t fucking change the conversation. I asked you a question and you better reply,” Geet was adamant and furious. “Are you going to explain or I should do the talking myself.” He was left with no choice, “Arre aunty told na. She looked tired while walking and sweating in the crowded Khan market when I saw her. She reminded me of my Mom, na. I think she almost tripped.”

“Did she faint? I am asking coz there is no medical condition,” Geet suddenly lowered her tone. She became suddenly worried about her mom, forgetting about the past riff, and mom’s obsession with her wedding.

“Nah! As it is, the heat in Mumbai can be excruciating sometimes and I think aunty walked with stack of veggies she was struggling to carry,” he comforted her.

 “What did you just say?” she blushed.

“Aunty for your mom?” he plainly told.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“What did you hear?” he shot back. It was her turn to feel uneasy and awkward. Geet heard him saying, ‘Maa’ and she didn’t want to admit it. It would look too weird.

She changed the conversation and didn’t know how to be angry. I was supposed to blast him but his innocence won my heart, she thought. A sip of coffee and wondering how to pretend to be angry. She is suddenly finding him cute and melted down.

“What are you thinking?” Hardik asks.

Geet tried hard not to give away a smile and her strength to him. After all, he is a guy and she is a girl. She cannot concede so easily and he will obviously take advantage.  Play hard is the mantra. She rolled her eyes and told herself, “Done deal. I am keen to know how he came home and we found ourselves in maasi’s flat. He is not going to get away with that.”

She took a water sip and played with her curls. “By the way, why the need to come with Mom inside the house and now she has been troubling me, asking about you every nanosecond. Remember our deal. No love.”

“Arre,” he said in a jest, “How on earth can I let someone who wasn’t feeling well walk alone and be so selfish. I am not inhuman.”

“This means that you were following me and doing tehkikaat (investigation) on my parents. I really want to know what the fuck you up to?” she feigned a storm. He bit the bait. She was having fun.

“How on earth would I know that she is your Mom?” he countered.

“You know where I stay and am sure much before it was a ploy to get inside my house,” she remarked.

“I think you are in love with me,” he flung a missile at her. Geet’s mouth was wide open. “Don’t fucking change the conversation. I asked you why you came with Mom inside. The least you could do was to leave the bags near the door, press the bell and leave straight away.”

“How on earth would I know it’s my sasural…now aana jaana hoga (coming and going),” he laughed.

“Don’t ever dare doing that. What did you just say right now bhenchod, sasura…aana jana,” she slapped him on his head.

“Why are you laughing so much? Now, repeat you choot,” she grew irritated.

“What do you mean? You want me to keep visiting at home. Uncle and aunty themselves invited me,” he was having fun. She hit him playfully on his head and fluttering his hair with his hand. It was his turn to be irked, “Don’t touch my hair.”

“Of course, I will touch. Are you planning to go bald or what,” she kept playing with his hair. “Mister with virgin hair and doesn’t want to be deflowered. Are you picky with your neeche ka bal, too?”

He ignored. She wasn’t letting him getaway. “Hello! I don’t mean chest hair so much that it’s taking you on an ego trip. I am speaking about the thing that I’ve seen with my eyes. The lecher in me is asking the obvious…the hairy hairy hidden inside the bottom part.” Geet 1 Hardik 1. I scored even with him, a coquettish smile surface on her lip.

The man v/s woman battle has just started. Geet wasn’t yet done and planning a rocket to unleash on him. He asked, “Are you on Tinder?” A bullet pierced into her heart. She instinctively shot back, “Are you stalking me? Guys! I tell you. Always insecure about every small thing when it comes to women. Jealousy pang, hein!”

He casually remarked, “I am just asking. Why would I stalk you? I think you are jealous and not me, asking this question out of the blue.”

“Oh! How can I forget! People who want to bang chicks are on Tinder and waiting for the next moment for one nightstand. Remember how we met on Facebook! What were you thinking? I really want to know. First, taking me to Maasi’s apartment that nobody ever goes to and second, landing right inside my house. Gotcha.”

“Dude! How on earth you got Maasi’s keys and did you ever realize that we could have got caught? What if Mom opened the door and saw both of us inside. I need an answer. Don’t think that I will ever forgive you for that,?”

“No! You can’t be serious Geet,?” he defended himself.

“Abe chutiya! I have asked you a very simple. Got some balls! I want to know where you earthed the key where none of us have it at home.”



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Hot on Wheels: Chapter 5

Geet was surfing through prospective matches on Tinder. She saw his profile. She swiped to another match. She wanted to make him jealous and a reluctance to push away his feeling. The thought of him making a formal proposal haunted her endlessly and spent nights staying wide awake.  The bell rang. She was in her denim shorts and traipsed lazily barefoot to swing the door open. 

Her Mom stood right in front sweating and pushed her aside “Hatho (move way).” She couldn’t believe her eyes at the shadow that stood behind and hiding a smile. “You,” Geet yelped. “How dare you? Beggars are not allowed. We don’t give alms.” Hardik stared at her. “How could he?” she thought, “Patao Mom. Now, this is too much.”

“Don’t listen to her beta. Come inside,” Her Mom cajoled Hardik. She gave a stare to Geet, “Just look at you. He’s our Mehmaan. Such a nice boy. You ungrateful girl! This is how you treat God.” She was at a loss of words and saw packs of veggies in both his hands. He was panting and couldn’t wait to drop the bags on the floor. Geet’s Mom pushed her hands away and Hardik followed inside. He left the bag in the kitchen and walked past Geet to make his exit, pretending that she didn’t exist. She was flabbergasted. At this moment, her mother run after him and held his hand, “Where are you going? Have some chai! No! I don’t want to hear anything and just ignore her. She can be like that. How much you helped me in this crowded Khan market. You are now one of us.”

She wanted to kick both him and Mom out. Now, what was the need for Mom to drag him inside and what’s up with him carrying her bags? Is he plotting to be over-familiar? First, Mausi’s apartment and now this. Geet could no longer handle this situation. Mom broke her thought, “What are you wearing? Chee chee! A short and showing your legs like that. Log kya kahenge (What will people say)? We have no Sanskar (culture). Go and change yourself.” Geet didn’t protest and walked to her room when Mom shouted, “Wear something decent and you need to make tea, bring mithai and give us company.” She ignored, walking inside her room and overheard Mom asking, “Haan beta! What’s your name again?”

“Hardik aunty.”

“Haan Hardik beta. Such a good boy and such good manners. You will make such a perfect husband and a dream for every in-law…so Sushil,” she turned towards the door. Hardik thought that aunty has gone bonkers and speaking to some UFO. Geet was walking with a tray full of mithai and tea which she plonked on the table as if saying to the guest, stuff everything inside and go die, you moron. She saw Mom’s head tossing and turning to the side of the door, wondering what happened to her just now. The doorknob twisted and turned by itself, and on the spur of the moment, Geet’s father walked inside.

He slouched on the sofa. “Meet Hardik, such a sushil boy, I tell you. I was walking in the crowded market and almost tripped when this boy came and asked lovingly, “Aunty what happened?” I was feeling dizzy and he made me sit on a stool, bought water for me. He came all the way to drop the vegetable bags inside.”

“Beta, you thought that I have gone mad, na. I don’t need a clock and already know the time Geet’s father would walk inside. It’s been a habit for 20 years now and knows the time he will walk in.” 

“No wonder such sweet Heer Ranjha love,” Geet was sarcastic.  Geet kept staring angrily at Hardik. He avoided her gaze. “Where do you stay Beta,?” Mom asked.

Hardik pretended to hesitate and spoke in a low voice, “In Mumbai uncle but I study in?”

Geet stopped him, “I mean he must be studying in Mumbai…obvious na, must be at Xavier’s or something.” Uncle shot back at her, “How do you know he studies at Xavier’s. Do you guys know each other?” Her face went red and almost stammered, “Dad! I mean since he stays in Mumbai and most study at Xavier’s since it’s posh.”

“Oh really! I didn’t know there is only one college in the city,” Geet’s Mom told. Her Dad chipped in as if questioning her, “But, you study at Fergusson College in Pune?” She went blank. Hardik was secretly pinning that this moment would disappear. Both of them felt a lump in their throats.  First random sex, second studying in the same college, third hot pursuit and then, almost getting caught by Geet’s Mom in a familiar apartment and now sitting on the hot seat.


“Yes, aunty,” he replied in monosyllable.

“You haven’t eaten anything. Don’t like sweets kya. Geet ke Pappa can wolf everything. You will not make a good father if you don’t like sweets,” aunty said.

He took a motichoor ladoo and popped in his mouth when aunty said, “Beta! Have you thought about the future,?” looking at Geet’s Dad “So, what I was saying Ji? Such a Sajjan boy. He will keep any girl happy by just saying yes or not. How I wish, Beta? We want a son and not damaad.”

Geet almost tore apart her hair with so much drama and felt like she was watching live her mom’s favorite Ekta Kapoor’s K-serial. She gently moves the palm hiding her face and moving the hand away, repeating the movement twice. She pushed the sweets tray towards Hardik’s face and saying in Hindi, “Poora Halwai ki Dukaan hai. Khaye na (Eat na). She bowed her head down and hiding her face repeatedly like a Sharmilee Dulhan (shy bride).” Her parents didn’t know where to look and stared at each other. Geet grinned in the direction of Hardik. He took a mouthful of gulab jamun in her mouth, syrup drenching on the sofa and flowing between his tooth.

Geet was eyeing the movement of her parents’ lips and stopped her mother at the right time, “Arre! Spare the poor guy and you are questioning him as if he is seating on Kaun Banega Crorepati’s hot seat. You don’t need to go home to your Mom or what. She will be worried.”

Hardik told, “Na! It’s alright.”

She forcefully put the mug in his hand and told, “Arre drink na. Have more mithai jaldi. You are our mehmaan (guest) and bhagwaan (God). You need to go home. Your parents must be worried.” Geet wanted to get rid of him. “Hardik! It’s too late now. I think your parents must be genuinely worried. You don’t have a house or what.” He didn’t protest.

“Ok! Aunty! I must be leaving now,” he touched the feet of Geet’s Mom and Dad. She thought, “What the fuck was that, man.” Geet’s Dad stopped him, “Hardik, just give me your phone.” Both of them were confused. “Keep coming home. I just saved my number on your mobile.” Geeta’s mouth was wide open and took a gulab jamun inside, not to arise any hint of suspicion.   



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Hot on Wheels: Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Geet’s fingers twitched on his jeans button and slid her palm on his hairy chest. He traced the line on her navel and finger’s toe touching the pierced ring. Tongue curled caressing the ring, lip pressed and tooth touching the ringlet as if gently licking a mouthful of ice cream. Body pressed to the wall in the living room surrounded by the couch, Khajuraho painting and lamps hung on the floor, she ran her fingers on his hair, inviting Hardik to kiss her flawless body with seductive eye moment. 

She tossed her right leg on his knee and asks, “You like it white or creamy.” Naughtily, she alludes to her white bra loosely tied and creamy skin, guiding his hand caressing the garment worn on her bosom. Face cupped to each other and lips exploring the lines in a swift movement, tongues swirled on necks interchangeably.  She panted and lit a smoke. “Listen, I have to show you something.” He couldn’t believe himself, “Now, in the middle of everything!” “Be patient, babe. You listen to me and creamy dessert on gulab jamun taste better after butter chicken,” Geet winked.

She strutted gracefully in the hall. He admires the flawless skin, flitting in her bra and denim short straddling with confidence, opened her bag and removed a file. Hardik was confused and forgot her hot body. “Is she the same woman I was making hot love minutes back?” She threw the file on his face, “Read!” He flipped through the paper document and on every page, there was a stamp of 20 bucks of the Indian Government. “What the fuck is that?” he asks.

“Chill babe! It’s no court paper but a mutual understanding or what you call a plain affidavit. Read. If you agree, both of us will sign, or else, we go our separate destination without talking to each other as if we are invisible.” Ouch! It hurts. He sheepishly flipped the bundle, hit pause, and lit a cigarette. She made eye contact as if asking him what he makes out of it. He took a drag, “I must be the only creature sitting in a luxury South Bombay apartment naked, fucked a chick and the only difference is my underwear with the condom still on, to read an affidavit. She told, “As if I’m Draupadi decked in saree covered from tip to toe.”

He flipped through the entire document for two hours, with a glass of vodka in hand and cigarette smoke, Ganja to finally breathe relief. “I never knew that this is your idea of the desert after sex.” She ignored him and asked, “Are you game to sign? Oh! Wait! Let me read it aloud for you.”

1. You will not press me for anything. I will decide when we meet, kiss or fuck.

2. You will not call at odd hours when drunk or knock on my door or stalk me on the Pune-Mumbai highway. 

3. We will not fall in love when fucking. You are no superman in bed. I am no highway for you.

4.  You will not sit next to me in any classroom on campus at Fergusson College, Deccan Educational Society, Pune without my will.

5. Don’t ever think of stalking me at any time or at night and befriending my friends. We will not be in the same gang and I will nod to you in case we wanna meet.

6. Some things are non-negotiable. When I offer you a lift, I will decide for us to make out and kiss passionately.

7. No hidden video cam during sex.

8. I don’t want you to fall in love with me and if you do, it’s the end of everything between us. We shall be strangers and if you hound me with miscalls, I have every right to send cybercrime after you. The end is the end.

9. You need to listen to what I say without drawing meaning. Accept you are in the wrong and punishment shall be, no call, or chat for days. When I say uthak baithak for you to becoming murga, it’s just that and doesn’t mean BDSM.

10. I have enough excitement in my life. Your happy-go-lucky dude image needs a stop and don’t you think you are ice cream and am a gulab jamun that we will slip into each other every time.

11. Don’t think you are some super hot dude just because we have some vibes. Don’t dare to stalk on social media and no Facebook request.

12. By mistake, never meet my parents even by accident, thinking you are the creation of the astrologer for me. Now, will you please sign the affidavit? Or else.

Hardik couldn’t believe what he just read. “Wow! I think you are in love with me and pretending to be all cool, Geet. Wait, it feels like song lyrics. Are we getting married, kya?”

She grinned: “Listen up, dude. We are not playing pehle aap and i’m no train leaving Jaipur. It’s up to you, either you sign the affidavit or forget we ever knew each other. Remember, no luv shuv. Now, stop behaving like a dukkhi aatma and whining. You are not some Devdas and am no Paro. I am a ruthless Chandramukhi, slaying balls.”

“Aww,” he winked. “You sound like the RJ on radio mirchi with dollop of sweetness and angry Goddess.”

“Shut up,” Geet protested. “Silly joke dude. I am an angry Goddess and better don’t mess up. Are you going to sign?”

He burst into a cackle of laughter. “My favorite oldie movie is Deewar. Rightish, you making us sound like siblings. I never thought that sex makes us criminals, Tum sign karoge ya nahin.”

Geet was confused about him. She wanted to be sure and this affidavit was her attempt to run away from love. She was the one falling for him but they end up having sex, minus the emotions. Hardik wasn’t far behind and falling head over heels for her every time. He reluctantly signed the affidavit, “Ok, whatever,” he was miffed and couldn’t comprehend who on earth does a badly drafted affidavit to create space between them. Geet and Hardik were not official lovers.

She slipped the papers into her bag. Suddenly, someone pressed on the bell and sent both of them in a tizzy and faces becoming red, looking at each other as if they have carefully planned murder. Pair of eyes tossed darting past the hall and wooden door. He whispered, “I don’t know the owner of this house.” She was incensed and whispered, “What the fuck? You took me to an alien house belonging to someone else to have sex. Are you mad?”

Both of them were almost naked and in the nick of time, pulled their clothes, silently walked near the door. The bell didn’t stop ringing. She peeped through and got a jolt. It was her mom. She turned around aghast and showed a menacing gaze to him. It took her a while to realize it’s the unoccupied apartment of her mausi (Mom’s sister).

“What?”, she fumed. “It’s my Mom outside. You took me to my Mom’s sister’s house. Are you mad kya?” He was equally confused, “How come?” She was planning to murder him right now. “You should know, na.” She dragged him inside the room. “Now, jump out of the window. Right now. It’s an order.”

It felt like a bullet landing straight into his heart. “Babe! We are on the 12th floor and I can’t land safe on the ground. You are a madwoman and losing your head. I swear. I didn’t know this apartment belongs to your family. I just took the key under the flower pot, thinking it’s unoccupied.”

“You weirdo. What if the door was open and my Mom entered inside, seeing us naked,” she told.

She brushed her fear, “Arre! She didn’t na.”

“I don’t know. You cannot just wipe your shit like that. When I say, jump out of the window, you do or else forget about me,” she ordered.

Hardik was trembling and put his leg on the window sill when the door creaked open. Geet rushed to close the door in the room. She pulled him down. “Now, stay silent. I think Mom entered inside. What do we do now?”

He squatted on the floor, not knowing what to tell her.