Spicy Baatein - Part 2

Munna grabbed my rear suddenly when I was standing in front of his office desk. I was shocked, and my cheeks flushed red in anger. What the hell!

“What happened? Didn’t Karishma tell you? This is Delhi, and we are all very friendly here. Koi objection hai toh find another job,” he said, folding his arms. So this was what Karishma had warned me about.

“No, no, I have no problem,” I said hastily, fearing I’d be fired before I had even started.

“Then take this,” he said and grabbed my left breast. I grimaced but said nothing. Would I have to endure this every day? But what choice did I have? At least it was better than washing utensils.

After half an hour, Munna took me to a room upstairs. It was more of an attic, and I hadn’t noticed it before. The room was so compact that one had to bend their neck to enter. The room occupied a small table with a television in the middle and a sofa in the corner. Munna switched on the television set and gestured me to sit down.

“Watch this video for the next three hours. This is your training today,” he said and left. The film was about sex chat centres, and I learnt everything: how to make orgasmic moans and how to heavily breathe in between. After a week of watching some more tapes, I was ready.

I would sit in one of the cubicles and put on the headphones, which were connected to the server that Munna looked after. Whenever we got a call, there would be a blink of red light in our cabin and we would then engage in a conversation.

“Is there a limit to what they can say on the phone?” I had asked Munna before taking my first call.

“No, dear, anything and everything goes.” He had shrugged.

The job brought me plenty of money, and soon I learnt the tricks of the trade. Within six months, I had shifted to a better apartment and had also purchased a cellphone. The only thing I hated was Munna’s routine fondling.

I was initially surprised by the extent of Munna’s business. We were always pretty busy and never sat idle for more than a few minutes. Most calls were through an appointment, and clients paid at ISD rates, even though they were talking from India. It was a well-organised nexus between political bigwigs and Munna. I had also heard that Munna was just the dalaal and the real kingpin was some political leader.

On one of the workday, I received a call from someone called Sukumar.

“Hello, Spicy Baatein?” he asked.

“Yes. So, what do you want to talk about?” I asked. Usually, people wanted me to engage in sex talk, pretending that I am their girlfriend or wife, or some perverts wanted me to act as a child. It’s amazing to see people going to extraordinary lengths to get that elusive girlfriend experience and paying ten times the actual money for talking to someone within India.

“Simple, decent talk please. I am calling for the first time,” said Sukumar. I was a bit surprised. Why is this guy paying ISD rates for a decent chat? I thought. Anyway, it was his money, so who cares?

“I am Sukumar from Delhi, and I work as a researcher. What about you?” he asked.

“I am whatever you want me to be,” I replied.

“Ha ha, and you are speaking from?”

“That I cannot tell you, dear,” I replied.

“Can’t or not allowed to tell?” he asked.

“Both.”

After half an hour of chatting, he disconnected the call. But he called again the next day, the day after, and then again after a week. A month later, he had my phone number. Karishma had warned me not to develop personal relationships with any customers as some girls ran into trouble previously.

“Always remember, he is just a client and he won’t enter into a relationship with a call girl,” she had said. But Sukumar was an exception, and so I felt I had to make an exception for him. In any case, I was not a call girl. I met him once in Connaught Place. He seemed delighted to meet me. I am not very pretty or fair, but still he liked me.

“Why don’t you get out of this business? Do steal some money from your boss and elope with me,” he suggested one day.

“What? I can’t, and what about you? You do have a job here, don’t you?” I asked.

“Arrey, this research job is useless. I just want to get out of here – the sooner the better. In any case, I just want to return to my village, open a business and live peacefully thereafter,” he said. He was panting heavily. Maybe he was thinking. “I want to bring about a difference, do something for my people and not just be another guy who migrated to the city, if you know what I mean?”

“Hmm, but if you don’t have money, how did you call from your mobile, you were paying ISD rates, naa?” I asked.

“Arrey, that was my friend’s mobile. He is very rich. And he wanted to help me out so…”

“And what will I do with you?”

“You could live with me. All we need is extra fifty thousand. I’ve already saved around forty thousand. One lakh is good enough amount to start a new life in my village.”

“Hmm, we will see.” Slowly, I fell in love with Sukumar and started hating my job. Would his family approve of my previous life and my profession? But he said he had no family, just one uncle who rarely visited him. The idea of eloping with Sukumar sounded nice, but where would we get the remaining Rs. 50,000 to Rs. 60,000? But then, out of the blue, an opportunity presented itself on a silver platter.

Meanwhile, Munna expanded his business and rented another one-room accommodation in the nearby area. He recruited some new girls, and I was relieved since he stopped fondling me. I was happy that it was the new girls and not me anymore.

“Manju, you will have to pitch in some extra hours today,” said Munna one evening. Lately, he had been spending more time at the new branch and only visited us when required.

“Yes, but how many and will I get overtime?” I asked without looking up.

“Yes, yes, stay for three hours,” he said and disappeared. Three other girls were also working with me. One by one, they all left. It was 10 pm, and I was the lone employee working. I then locked the room, as instructed by Munna, and left the building to return the keys and retire for the day. I climbed the dingy steps to reach the first floor of the new branch office and knocked the door. No answer. I could hear voices inside, and some loud music was on, too. Then I peeped through the keyhole to see Munna in a compromising position with a new girl. Also, two beer bottles were lying around on the floor along with some chips packets. I wondered if I should disturb him and hand over the keys or simply leave. I stood at the door and debated my decision. Then I had my eureka moment, which was my ticket to freedom. I used my camera mobile to video the entire episode and left soon after. At home that night, I saw the video. The face was quite clear but was a bit grainy. I wished I had purchased a high-resolution cellphone, but then this would do to achieve my plan. I eagerly waited for the next morning.

I reached early to find Munna at the desk.

“I want one lakh rupees, and also I am quitting my job,” I said and sat down on a chair calmly. Munna laughed.

“In your dreams, and what makes you to think you will get one lakh?” he asked.

“You will when you see this,” I said and showed him the video clip.

“What the heck? I give you a job and this is how you repay me, you bitch!”

“It is all business, Munna.” I smiled. I was happy now as I was in full control. All this time, this man had treated me like a sex doll, fondling me, but now I was the one in command.

“You can show it to everyone, you bitch. I don’t care. I am a nobody,” he shouted.

“Yes, but when I show it to a journalist or a policeman, a case would be registered against you and then the real owner would be located. He wouldn’t like it that you have screwed up his profitable business, now would he?” I shrugged. Munna folded his arms, thinking. I knew he would now succumb to my demand. His MLA would not like a scum like Munna to screw up his well-established business, and from what I’d heard of the MLA, Munna would have to pay with his life for such a mistake.

“Take your time,” I said. “I have all day.” I realised that Munna was weighing all his options.

“I could just take your mobile, then rape you right here, bitch. What is to stop me from doing that?” he threatened. But Sukumar and I had well anticipated his move.

“My boyfriend has already made another copy. You touch me and those copies will find their way into every newspaper tomorrow morning. I am not a fool, Munna. I learnt all about technology from you. In fact, remember, you were the one who suggested I buy this mobile phone, the best two-megapixel camera phone and that too for just two thousand rupees?” I smirked.

“Heck, I taught you too much. You are biting the hand that fed you. God will never forgive you.”

“And he will forgive you, right? Enough talk, arrange for the money or else . . .”

“I don’t have that much. I can give seventy,” he said.

“Okay.” I nodded.

“But what will you do? You have another life…A good life.”

“Now that is none of your business, is it?” I smiled. Half an hour later, Munna handed over me the cash, wrapped in a plastic bag.

“Delete the video now, but first, show it to me. I will delete it myself, and don’t return ever again,” he threatened.

“No, I won’t delete it. It’s my gateway to freedom. And I don’t plan to return ever,” I said.

Five minutes later, I met Sukumar at Red Fort. He ushered me into a waiting Omni. After half an hour of real fast driving, he stopped near the Delhi–UP border.

“Let’s have some snacks and cold drinks. We won’t be stopping then until we reach my village,” he said. I nodded. I was so happy. Few months back, my future looked bleak, but now I had Sukumar and a new life.

“I am scared that Munna will try to trace us,” I said and sat on a chair.

“No, he won’t. You still have the video.”

“Hmm.” I nodded.

“Please wait inside. I will pay the bill and will bring the car round,” said Sukumar. He did not return for a long time, and I went outside, only to find that the Omni was no longer there.

Sukumar had left without me and had also taken the plastic bag with ₹ 70,000 crisp notes. And with it all my hopes and dreams.

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