Page 89 of 12 Years
Mudit rolled down his window. ‘My friend is here to meet his father-in-law. Any problem?’
‘What? Which apartment?’ the security guard said, raising an eyebrow as he noticed we were both piss drunk.
‘Anand Jain, fifth floor,’ I managed to say despite my inebriated state.
‘Your good name?’ the guard said.
‘Mudit and—’ Mudit began but I placed my hand over his mouth.
‘We’re Parimal Jain’s cousins. There’s a family gathering,’ I said.
‘That may be so, but what’s your name?’ the guard said.
‘We’re from Parimal Jain’s side. Tell them,’ I said.
‘I have to give one name.’
‘Mudit,’ Mudit said. ‘Mudit Saxena.’
The guard dialled the intercom in Payal’s apartment. A household help picked up the phone. The guard spoke to her for a few seconds. I thought our cover would be blown right there. Somehow, the maid fell for it. The guard ended the call and opened the gate.
We left the cab and took the elevator up to the fifth floor. Outside Payal’s apartment, there were nearly two dozen pairs of slippers lined up on both sides of the door. I rang the doorbell.
‘The door’s open,’ Anand Jain shouted from inside. A second later, he stood at the entrance. It took him a moment to recognize me.
‘You?’ he screamed, then instantly lowered his voice to avoid being overheard by the guests inside. ‘You rascal, how did you even get in?’
He opened his phone and checked the automatic visitor notification.
‘Mudit? You lied about your name,’ Anand said as he read the notification. ‘But what else can I expect …’
‘Uncle, I’m Mudit,’ Mudit said. ‘Saket’s friend.’
Anand ignored him completely and spoke to me. ‘I don’t want to see you. I’m calling security.’
‘I don’t want to see you either. I need to see Payal. Call her,’ I said, full of Old Monk confidence.
‘You’re drunk?’ Anand said, sniffing the air around me like a constipated mouse.
‘Call her, or I’ll go inside and find her myself,’ I said.
‘Security,’ Anand spoke into the phone. ‘Please come to the fifth floor. I’m in danger.’
‘You’re not in danger, Uncle, or Mr Jain or whatever. I’m just here to see my girlfriend, who’s being kept here forcibly,’ I said.
‘Get lost,’ Anand said.
‘Who is it, ji?’ Yashodha called out as she came to the door. She looked at Mudit and me, aghast. Both of us wore old T-shirts and shorts—Janata Bar couture. In contrast, the Jains looked like actors in a Tanishq Diwali ad. Anand wore a brocade silk kurta with a matching embellished waistcoat. Yashodha wore a purple saree with golden embroidery all over it. She also wore a massive diamond necklace, gleaming with more stones than South Africa’s total annual production.
‘Where did he come from? This curse?’ she muttered.
Okay, she was referring to me.
‘Aunty, please call Payal. I’ll speak to her and leave,’ I said.
‘We have a family function going on,’ Yashodha said.
‘I’m coming in,’ I said.
