Sex, Lies And Cricketgate

By Pinky Bokadia

Aaliya is the sexy, Kazak cheerleader hired by the Bombay Badshah team. When her sister Aasiya is accused of murdering her boyfriend, Aaliya's world comes crashing around her. She wants to get away from it all and leaves her academic career behind to join the glitz and glamour of Mumbai.
Aaliya finds herself in the midst of the heart-pounding adrenalin rush of the BCL and now there’s no looking back.
From Rohan, a young lounge bar manager, to Abhishekh, the suave owner of the team, from the ravishing Pabla from Spain, to Hemang Badani, her only cricketer buddy, she meets and makes many a friend and enemy…
The problem is, she doesn't know whom to trust amid the chaos, the secrets and the intense mind games people play… will Aaliya survive the battle? Will Aasiya ever forgive herself? Will detective Rajeev Mathur stumble upon the absolute truth about the sisters?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Notion Press
• Release date: May 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9789384049683

Book preview

Prologue

October 31, 2009

Half awake, she cursed the plumber under her breath. He hadn’t managed to fix her central heating. It had burst earlier during the day and her tiny electric heater just wasn’t keeping her warm enough. The gnawing pain in her joints was unbearable, and the freezing night made it worse. Indira Petrovna Ivova tossed and turned in bed trying to ignore the stiffness in her joints. Winter had truly arrived in Talgar, a small town just 50 km from Almaty, the financial center of Kazakhstan.

"Chortovatruba!" she cursed again and reluctantly got out of bed. Craving a cup of chamomile tea, she made a feeble attempt to distract herself from the arthritis. She slowly put on her socks and her long winter gown and limped towards her kitchen. Filling the electric kettle with water, she waited for it to come to a boil, as she absentmindedly looked out of her ground floor window into the cold, dreary night.

Ivova peered through the window at what looked like a young woman walking by in a strange costume. A cat suit that clung to her every curve, leaving her face bare and making it look even more intriguing. Heavy eye make-up, thread like whiskers and a matching black, twisted tail. Ivova was now truly distracted.

In the freezing winter, the trees had shed their red and yellow leaves. The street was well-lit with lampposts 15 meters apart, shining like the triumphant good over the dark evil night. Yes, there was no mistaking it. It was certainly a beautiful and voluptuous woman in a cat suit, walking towards her apartment, holding a large paper box carefully in both hands.

The box in the mysterious woman’s hand was from a popular twenty-four hour sweetshop, RAHAT. The woman passed by her window and towards the entrance of her building! Ivova watched her standing by the door, since it was in line with her window, just few steps away. As the cat woman punched in the numbers on the security lock of the building door, Ivova’s curiosity reached its peak. She muttered to herself "Ktotakaya?! (Who is she?), "Pochemukodznaet? (How does she know the code?), Kkomusobralasinetersno?" (Whose guest is she?) For those few moments, she forgot all about her tea and her joints.

Curiosity got the better of her so she moved towards her door as fast as her arthritic joints would allow. She could hear the click-clack of stilettos just outside her apartment. She peeped through the eyehole and now, with a full frontal view, realised that the cat woman was none other than Aasiya, her front door neighbor, who was now fiddling with the keys to enter her apartment.

"Etamolodyozh…kaktakmozhnoodevatsya" (these modern women, they can wear anything) she cursed again, a bit disappointed at the ordinary outcome of the mystery that had gripped her for the last few minutes. She walked back slowly towards the kitchen. Suddenly she was cold again and the pain in her joints had returned. She laughed at the anomalous nature of the human mind and how she had become immune to her pain for a while. The chamomile tea with honey always soothed her. The hot tea and the steam soon warmed her and calmed her nerves, and she forgot all about Aasiya’s avatar, wearily got into bed and was snoring within minutes.

November 1, 2009

She woke up with a heavy head and knew instantly that she’d overslept. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that. It was past 8 o’clock. Ivova quickly put on her long warm gown, socks and gloves, praying for the central heating to come back on soon. She was an early riser and tried to go about her morning routine faster today, since she was so late.

She realised why she had woken up. She could hear the din outside her window. She hurried to the kitchen and peered through the window. A grey and blue police van stood there, with a small crowd gathered around the two policemen. She spotted her friend Lyudmila beside the van and gestured to her, curious to know what was going on. A minute later, Ivova opened her apartment door and welcomed her old friend in. Lyudmila Timerbayeva also lived in the same building and they’d gotten quite friendly of late.

Lyudmila’s excitement was evident from her big and shiny eyes. Aaliya Vasilieva, Ivova’s neighbor had called the police early in the morning to report that her boyfriend, Olzmas Il’yasovich, had been found dead. As Lyudmila narrated the incident, she saw the shock on her friend’s face as she turned pale. Ivova didn’t move for about a minute. Lyudmila was worried that the news may have come as a shock to her friend at her age.

Are you alright? she asked Ivova. But Ivova was lost in deep thought.

Could she have possibly saved the poor boy from being killed?

Chapter 1

Is discretion the better

part of valour?

Aaliya looked out of the car window as she approached the Almaty International Airport. Her Air Astana flight to Mumbai via New Delhi was in just a few hours. Switching careers was not something she had planned. She was highly qualified after all. Her university of power engineering and tele-communications – AUPET, was one of the best in Central Asia. She sighed, thinking of the way her well-planned life, like well-placed blocks on a tower, had all come tumbling down.

At 20, Aaliya had it all going for her. With her honey-coloured complexion, luxurious dark brown hair and exotic eyes, she was a tall, attractive woman. Her small face had delicate features, a perfect blend of her Russian father and Tartar Mom. A boyfriend of four years she was looking forward to marrying, and her sweet, loving sister Aasiya were the two most precious people in her life. But now, there was no one. She’d lost her mother when she was 12. After her heart failure, her diabetic father took to alcohol and passed away five years ago. Aaliya and Aasiya worked part time, and with government aid, they were just-about managing until the ill-fated October night loomed over them like a dark cloud.

She just couldn’t bear to see what was happening to Aasiya with the police and the lawsuit. Fighting back her tears, she thought of how much she wanted to help her, but she was also furious at what she’d done with Olzmas and how she’d hurt her, too. Maybe she deserved to be punished.

Daniyar’s soulful face kept haunting her. His pain was agonizing. She killed my son. Why? Why would she do that? he asked over and over again, somberly. Aaliya couldn’t bear to look into his distressed eyes. She looked away and whispered: I have no idea.

He wouldn’t let go. Tell me Aaliya! What was going on? Why would she do that?

Daniyar, I am as lost as you are. She avoided his condemning gaze.

I’ll find it, Aaliya, I’ll find it all and I won’t rest in peace until I do! You Vasilievas will have to answer me! he screamed. She had her own grief to cope with. She didn’t need his accusations to make her feel any worse.

She decided to get away from Almaty and registered with an international recruitment agency. The job she’d landed with was so unexpected, she couldn’t believe it at first. All her other qualifications apart, she had been hired for her nine years of training in rhythmic gymnastics!

It was mandatory in Kazak schools to choose one sport and get trained for it, all through school life.

For girls there were various options like gymnastics, ballet, rumba and synchronized swimming. At first, Aaliya was reluctant to accept the offer, but it would pay her well, and she’d have to travel to India immediately. It was a good chance to get away from the mess and make some quick money.

She told herself she’d hunt for job as an engineer while she was there. With all the multinationals setting up offices in India, she was sure something interesting would come her way.

‘Pochemu, Aasiya? Pochemu? Why Aasiya? Why? We were all so happy together as a family’.

Her thoughts oscillated between the past and the future.

Being in India will help me make money and start a new life, she convinced herself, as she fastened her seat belt securely, as though it signified a new beginning.

For the first time in her life she wished she were shorter. The tight seating in the economy class was uncomfortable. The leg space just not enough for her long limbs. An hour had passed and she had two more to go. Her thoughts went back to Olzamas, and the time they had spent together.

Twelve-year-old Olzamas Il’yasovich was her first friend when she came to Talgar from Almaty. She was just nine, when her father, an electrical engineer, was posted at the porcelain factory there. It was a much better paying job than his previous one at the motor machinery repair store. Olzamas’ father, Daniyar Il’yasovich also worked at the same factory as a chemical engineer. They soon became close friends, and so did the children. Olzamas, Aaliya and Aasiya would play Rezinochka (a jumping game) and Pryatki (hide-n-seek), but often Olzamas and Aaliya would trick Aasiya and run away to play without her. Aasiya would cry and complain to the parents and at times she would even get angry and hit them, but all in vain. Nothing affected Olzamas and Aaliya and they continued playing together. Their fondness for each other grew steadily. When her mother died, Olzamas stood by her all the time. They were inseparable and he had now become a part of their family.

Aaliya, a very attractive girl, had many young men asking her out since she was 13. She always turned them down, thinking it would be only Olzamas for her. But he never seemed to get around to asking her out on a date. Yet, he would seek her out to discuss any and everything -- from issues concerning studies, friends, clothes or even just the weather! But he never asked her out. Tired of waiting for him and giving in to peer pressure, she decided to go out with one of the most popular boys in Talgar when she was 16. But before she accepted the date, she sought his opinion.

He replied curtly, Why are you asking me? and walked off. She was puzzled by his reaction, but chose to ignore him and went ahead with her date. She went out on several dates since then, and though she could sense that Olzamas didn’t really approve, he said nothing. The more she went out with other men, the farther apart they grew. She also noticed that he didn’t date anyone.

When she asked him, he just smiled and said Once with a Vasilieva, always with a Vasilieva.

Soon he left Talgar and went to Almaty to study. At first, she missed him, but in time she got used to life without him. She tried hard not to think of him, burying all her feelings in a far away corner of her mind. She was having fun and enjoying life while concentrating on her studies, too. She reconciled with the fact that he wasn’t interested in being her friend anymore. When she turned 17, she also left for Almaty to study telecommunications.

Six months later, she saw him with a beautiful Kazak girl with lustrous long hair, at a restaurant in Almaty. Aaliya was seeing Akniyet Imambekov, the most popular boy of AUPET at that time. Olzamas looked great. It seemed like he’d been working out up and she felt her feelings stir again as she glanced at his very handsome face. Tall, dark and towering, he reminded her of a Kazak warrior. She went up to his table, greeted them, took down his number and left.

Unable to hold herself back, she sent him a message on his phone: Get rid of your date, I’m coming to see you. Send me your address.

Anything important? was the reply she got back.

Most important!

He texted his address to her.

I’ll come straight to the point Olzamas. She stopped, took a deep breath and composed herself. I was extremely jealous of the girl you were with. I’m not sure I know why, so don’t bother asking me.

Aaliya and Olzamas were sitting in his small studio apartment. As soon as she’d received the address, she’d said goodnight to her date and left.

Why? Olzamas asked her eyes fixed on hers.

Olz! she screamed.

Unless you give me an answer to your ‘WHY?’ there’s not much to discuss Lea. Almost immediately he looked contrite, took her hands into his and spoke softly, I’ve been feeling this way since the time you went on your first date.

Why didn’t you tell me then? She screamed louder.

"Milyay (sweetheart) there was no point. You wouldn’t have understood my feelings; you were only fifteen, immature, too young to make any serious decisions. I would have put you in trouble, and more importantly I wanted you to realize it on your own.

He paused, felt her cheeks and continued, "Dorogayamoya (my dear) I insist you go home, think over the ‘why?’ and call me. I may not be able to take it if I have to lose you again. Call me only if you’re in it for life. I’ll wait, and after a second he added forever. And sorry, I can’t be just your ‘FRIEND’.

"Lyubovmoya (my love) you will never have to lose me, I’m yours, all yours," she said this with all her pent up emotions and moved forward to gently lock her lips with his, into a deep kiss. All the intimacy they had held back for so many years was suddenly released into a raw burning passion. It was the first time for both of them, and they made love through the night. It will be ‘happy ever after’ she thought.

But for that fateful October night that knocked the life out of her.

An in-flight announcement in Hindi startled Aaliya. She didn’t follow a single word but it shook her out of her reverie, back to reality. How was she to survive in a country where she did not know anyone or the language, she wondered. Mumbai had a small society of Kazaks, and she had noted down a few numbers from Google, looking forward to getting in touch with them. ‘First things first’ she thought as she heard the announcement in Russian. They were to land in next half hour at New Delhi’s Indira Gandhi International Airport if they were lucky enough to avoid the airport traffic.

The first thing that hit her as soon as she got out of immigration was the crowds and the smell. It irritated her senses. It was too strong and overwhelming, as though the warm weather was extracting a stench and exuding it everywhere. She had never before seen such a huge gathering of people. The international airport was impressive, looked much bigger than the Almaty airport and seemed efficient, modern and sophisticated, despite the crowds.

It was midnight. She was guided to the domestic airport in an airport coach and she checked in for her flight to Mumbai. She was escorted at every step by the friendly and helpful airport staff. Yes ma’am, this way ma’am, Sure ma’am they said. Before she knew it, she was in Mumbai.

5am, January 22, 2010.

She entered a world where she found it all -- LOVE, FAME and MONEY. A chauffeur driven Skoda Superb with an escort, Mr Sawant, came to receive her and take her to her soon-to-be-home -- an apartment in ‘Beau Monde’, a five-star complex with state-of-the-art amenities in an area called Prabha Devi. It was all mentioned in the appointment letter she had received. And life was about to start all over again.

Her group leader Mona Parker, an American from New York, welcomed Aaliya. She took her around the flat, and introduced her to the other flat-mates. It was a spacious four-bedroom flat with a huge living room and a big kitchen equipped with appliances. Aaliya was shown to her bedroom, a 350 sq ft. room with an air conditioner, a large LCD television, a small couch, two large wardrobes and a king-sized bed next to the wardrobes, opposite the LCD. She was to share this room with another girl, who had not yet arrived. The others she met, except the group leader, were all foreigners like her, belonging to different countries like Poland, Hungary, Ukraine and Bulgaria. And each one was prettier than the other.

Aaliya was asked to freshen up and be ready for breakfast in half an hour. She had never seen such a vast spread before. Two Indian cooks with a helper each had prepared it. There were various continental, English and Indian dishes, egg, cereal, bread, confectionery, salads with exotic dressings, sausages, mashed potatoes, hot Indian stuffed breads served with yoghurt, porridge and also a variety of Indian porridges. At the breakfast table, in the midst of all the polite conversation, Aaliya couldn’t help but notice that she was the darkest, tallest and also the most educated of the lot. The other girls were mostly voluptuous. Most of them were high school dropouts, but trained dancers in some dance form or the other. They all seemed to be friendly and kept laughing, talking and sharing jokes. They all had been a part of this before and seemed to enjoy it. Aaliya began to relax for the first time since leaving her country and began to look forward to the whole