The Fast and the Dead by Anuja Chauhan

Author:Anuja Chauhan [Chauhan, Anuja]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: null
Published: 2023-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

7

The Pilla Party Party

‘Amma,’ Jhoom says, picking forlornly at the rips on the knees of her baggy workpants. ‘D’you remember Laiya and Gaiya Padiwal?’

Jaishri looks up, half hopeful, half wary. It is the first time Jhoom has spoken to her in over three days.

They are sitting on the couch of their faded but comfortable living room (more shabby, less chic) with the shades drawn. Jaishri’s term papers are finally all corrected and she has popped a bottle of Sula white to celebrate. But it’s been a pretty flat celebration, so far.

It’s my own stupid fault, Jaishri thinks wretchedly. I shouldn’t have blurted out my private hunch about that boy’s feelings for her, and got her hopes up. Damn, it hurts when young girls go about looking so pinched and thin and colourless.

She knits her brows.

‘Help me, puppy,’ she says. ‘Are Laiya-Gaiya the fair-and-vapid twins who like to date the same boy at the same time, or are they the sisters who used the economically backward quota to go to Sarah Lawrence even though pappa Padiwal is a multi-millionaire?’

‘Both,’ Jhoom replies. ‘But d’you remember their old golden retriever, Macho?’

Jaishri’s face brightens. ‘Awweee, he was a sweetie! I used to feed him vast amounts of lychee mousse at every Laiya-Gaiya birthday party! Maiya Padiwal was so proud of her stupid homemade lychee mousse—yuck, it tasted exactly like I’d imagine human placenta to taste.’

‘You did what?’ Jhoom looks appalled. ‘Wow, well, thanks to his weakness for rich sweet food, and thanks to irresponsible people like yourself who pandered to it, I had to put him to sleep today.’

Jaishri puts down her wine glass.

‘Oh no, Jhoomie.’

Jhoom’s chin quivers. ‘He was such a sweet dog! He had no clue what I was gonna do. He licked my hand trustfully and looked at me with pain-glazed caramel eyes while I injected a lethal dose of ketamine and xylazine into his body.’

Jaishri scrambles over to her, concerned.

‘Jhoomie! I’m so sorry.’

Jhoom shakes her head, tears dropping on her knees. ‘I have a shitty job!’

‘Have some wine!’ Jaishri urges. ‘Sula’s not all that bad, actually.’

Jhoom blows her nose dolefully.

‘You know I don’t drink, amma.’

Jaishri glugs down some more wine herself.

‘Well,’ she says bracingly. ‘Good only you put him out of his misery! Those ghastly girls are totally obsessed with social media. They would’ve been sharing aesthetically shot pics of his soulful suffering with their ’Gram-fam for months. #BraveTillTheGrave, #MachoTillTheLastMoment, #NotDeadTillYoureDead.’

‘Amma!’ Jhoom looks revolted. ‘Why are you always so…’

Jaishri raises her eyebrows. ‘So?’

‘I don’t know… brutal!’

Jaishri waves her wine glass about. ‘It’s the life I’ve led, I guess.’

Jhoom looks at her keenly. ‘Are you seeing your therapist regularly?’

‘Of course!’ Jaishri winks. ‘Why? Worried I capered down the road barefoot in my sexy negligée and put a bullet through Sushi Kedia?’

‘You’re impossible.’ Jhoom gets to her feet.

‘I’m joking, Jhoomie! Anyway, Macho lived till a ripe old age! And tomorrow, you might help a mummy-dog birth a brand new litter. Go have a bath and shake it off. The geyser’s on.’

‘Uff, just

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