The Gangster's Muse

By Supriya Parulekar

The Gangsters Muse is a light read something you can catch up with a cup of afternoon tea or coffee. Its protagonist Meghna, a software professional chucks her high-salaried job and assumes the role of a house-wife after marriage. Very soon she is disappointed as her husband Ashutosh gets caught in the recession and loses his job. He gets a new job but has to move house. The new surroundings upset him and sends him in emotional turmoil. He keeps to himself, rarely acknowledges Meghnas presence which unsettles her and their relationship.
Meghna in bid to keep herself busy takes up a counsellors job with Infinite Helpline under the name of Angel. Unknown to her a storm is brewing in her direction. Gangster Malli on run calls the helpline in desperate attempt to drive away his loneliness and befriends Angel aka Meghna. He gets a brainwave to use Angel to retrieve the diamonds he has stashed in safe hiding away from his boss Zuber.
Malli kidnaps Ashutosh and forces Meghna to risk her life in bid to get the diamonds for him. Meghnas friends Jaanvi, Chaitanya and Krishna jump in to the adventure.
A crazy, hip hop thriller; must read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Nov 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781482814484

Supriya Parulekar

ïSupriya Parulekar is an author, columnist and Contents writer. Her debut novel ïA Soulful of Lie' was published by Leadstart Publications and Frog Books. Next in line is ïDreamcatcher' published by Pageturn Publishers. Apart from writing stories she has ventured in film writing. She also works as a Quality Controller for Television 18 History Channel. If it is adventure, thrill and a dose of romance that you prefer then ïThe Gangster's Muse' is a perfect read.

Book preview

The Escape

Moonlight stealthily streamed in through the narrow bars of the desolate looking brick building. It glittered on rusted window bar, carrying imprints of many a prisoners, who held on it longingly to bask in the warmth of the sun again. Shadows shifted in the night lending it an omnious chill.

The nocturnal silence was disturbed by the twang of the sturdy wooden stick as it came in contact with the iron-bars as the guards walked the corridors. It was time for the guards to change duty for the night at high-end Nagpur jail. Wind rustled a familiar melancholy tune in the trees nearby. Branches scraped at the window and somewhere a door clang shut breaking the solitude of the night.

It was a very crucial night for Mallinath who paced nervously in his cell. He was an under trial arrested for murder of a high-profile builder Ram Makhija who was well-placed in political circle. The case hearing had dragged for over a year and Malli was getting impatient. His boss Don Zuber had made arrangements to get him out as Malli was crucial for the organization. So, here he was eagerly waiting to hear the footsteps of the guard who would be arriving any moment after completing a round of the cells. Malli had to just groan and let him be taken to the prison hospital. The guard was approaching and Malli began to groan loudly clutching his stomach. Malli saw the shadow of the guard, who peered inside the cell, reflected by the zero watt bulbs. The intensity of his groans increased creating a panic outside. Malli’s groans and moans were drowned in the whistle sounds and running footsteps as more guards appeared outside his cell. The door opened with a creak and Malli was hauled outside. He was taken directly to the prison hospital and put under the care of Dr. Rathod.

Dr. Rathod was about to retire for the night when the patient was dumped on his table, rather unceremoniously. He frowned at the unpleasant intrusion. His wife’s calls had irritated him to no end as it was their wedding anniversary and she was expecting to celebrate with a dinner followed by a late night movie. Reluctantly he began examining Malli’s stomach, asking him routine questions. There was no sign of swelling then what was the reason for the pain, wondered Dr. Rathod. He was in a hurry to leave and he decided to give Malli a painkiller tablet and a sedative for the night. Filling up the admission form took ten minutes and finally Malli was laid on the hard cot. He was the only patient, Malli observed. All the more better to put plan B in motion, he smiled.

Dr. Rathod turned with the syringe only to find the cot empty. He was taken by surprise when a rough hand closed over his mouth and the other hand smoothly retrieved the syringe. The next moment he felt a prick on his shoulder and slumped down. The last thing he heard was his cell ringing in his shirt pocket and the clock chime eight. It sounded like a lullaby to Dr. Rathod’s ears as he slipped in to slumber.

That was easy, thought Malli as he quickly discarded his prison clothes and slipped easily into doctor’s beige trousers and blue shirt. Thankfully the two were of the same size. Next he laid the doctor on the bed, shoving his clothes underneath and covered him with the coarse blanket. He put on the doctors hat and coolly walked towards Rathod’s car. He got in behind the wheel and drove towards the security gate that was 5 meters away. This was the most crucial part of his plan. It was pitch dark outside; the only light came from his car headlights and from the security post. As he approached he noticed the barrier and was forced to bring the vehicle to halt. Keeping his head low, praying fervently, he now depended on Zuber to get him out. The guard mumbled something which overrode the sound of Malli’s heart thudding across his chest. He saw a guard coming out of the security post and thought this was the end; a very premature end to his escape drama. But he was surprised when the guard instead of coming over, raised the barrier motioning his car to pass by. He looked at the guard who was busy typing on his computer and heard him say, ‘keep your face turned away from the light till you ride out smoothly through the gates’. Malli smiled knowing this was Zuber’s setting, ‘Kaminaa, saala…’

Malli was tasting freedom after a year and he looked up thanking his lucky star. Soon Malli’s car was speeding away in to a new free world.

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The Starcast

The cell alarm went off at 5:50 am throwing Meghna out of her slumber. As was the practice, her fingers pressed the snooze option for a further 10 minutes which seemed a heavenly bliss at that moment. She purposely set the alarm 10 minutes before her scheduled 6:00 am so that the satisfaction of having got 10 minutes more gave her the much needed push to get out from under the covers. At 6:00 am the cell went off again which eventually disturbed Ashutosh, sleeping next to her. She switched off the alarm and got up to look at her dear hubby. She liked beginning her day after seeing his face. After an hour and half, Meghna was ready with the breakfast and as was happening nowadays, Ashutosh did not feel like eating. This situation was recurring everyday now as if it was a déjà vu to her. With great difficulty she counted up to ten to push back the anger that was threatening to invade her sanity. Meghna had long back adjusted to the whimsical nature of her husband.

She did not nag after him as she knew he would meet her now at the end of the day when he got home and would retreat to the bedroom with the newspapers he missed reading in the morning leaving her to deal with her solitude.

Meghna was herself a software Engineer but had chucked off her high-salary job to get married to Ashutosh who was an Engineer and working with the same International firm. It was a whirlwind romance that ended up with both tying the knot. Meghna easily slid in to the role of a devoted housewife just like the fish takes to water, her naani had remarked. In the beginning she enjoyed playing the part of haanji… haanji, running to the market, paying the bills, shopping for fish and meat, as they were Ashutosh’s favourite and cooking for him, cooking for his friends but as the honeymoon period waned so did Meghna’s enthusiasm. Not the one to remain idle Meghna started feeling bored as after completing housework she realised she had lot of free time on hand.

HBO was celebrating Valentine’s week by showcasing romantic movies. Meghna got hooked on to it and started spending much of her time before the TV. The mushy romance reminded Meghna of those heady days Ashutosh and she had spent before their marriage. One such evening she was engrossed in the movie when the doorbell rang. She wondered who it could be and with much consternation opened the door. She was surprised to find Ashutosh at the door.

‘Ashu… how come you are back so early?’ Meghna could not hide her surprise and as was her nature blurted out what she felt, politically incorrect… again, she realised wincing on her words.

‘Am I disturbing you my dear wife?’ Ashu asked as he loosened the tie and swung his laptop bag on the couch. There he proceeded to take off his socks and shoes. Meghna watched with much consternation as Ashutosh flung the socks in one corner and shoes in another.

‘Can I have chai… please?’ Ashutosh asked as he got up and went to the bathroom to freshen up. There goes my sweet intrusion, she thought.

Meghna switched off the TV set, sad at having missed out on the climax. Now she would never know if the bride runs away with her lover at the last moment when they are about to exchange vows or stays back giving unto her destiny and all this thanks to dear hubby.

When Meghna came back in to the living room with chai she thought for a moment a tornado had hit. The baby cushions were lying on the floor, newspaper pages were flying around freely taking up every corner in the room, the laptop was lying on the centre table separated from its bag; appeared lost and lonely, television was switched on to some news channel where a woman was talking about inflation and grocery prices been hiked. In all this mess she spotted Ashutosh sprawled on his favourite beige-coloured couch, his face hidden behind the newspaper, legs up in air grazing the wall. His capability to reduce something beautiful to a monstrous disaster left her shocked. How can anyone read a newspaper singling out page by page and letting it fly away? It was beyond her imagination, she wondered.

Meghna made her way through the many obstacles and finally placed the cup before her husband who coolly took the chai and proceeded towards the bedroom, but not before letting the last paper slip from his hand. Meghna sat down on the settee and took in the mess his royal highness had left behind. Tears welled up in her eyes as she wondered if her life was on the brink of insanity. Since last few months the thought of taking up a job had crossed her mind but she was not able to give it shape. As Meghna picked up the papers and put them together, she munched on a vague thought; if it was that easy to gather the broken pieces of life and mould them in to a desirable form… sigh…

Meghna pulled the chair and sat by the window. The sun had just set but it was still daylight outside. Kids played in the garden below while their mothers huddled together and talked mundane nothings. Suddenly Meghna felt lonely. She desperately wanted to talk to someone. At that moment her phone rang. Relief washed over her as she noticed it was Jaanvi, her college buddy. Trust her to call at the right moment.

‘Hey, gorgeous where have you been?’ Jaanvi’s voice was bubbling with enthusiasm. She had always been a happy-go-lucky girl with an infectious cheer.

Meghna felt her spirits rise and a smile appeared on her face deepening her dimples, though tears threatened to overflow.

‘Hey, I am where you last saw me; cooped up in my house… on verge of losing my sanity… my life a complete chaos.’ Meghna said.

‘Whoa… Hold it… something tells me you are not happy. What happened?’ Jaanvi said as she entered the requirements for the shoot on her laptop. She was an Executive Producer for a Television Channel and her daily soaps boasted of highest TRP. She was the creative brain behind the many daily saas-bahu, mushy romantic soaps that the channel churned out.

‘I think your funda of staying single was right. I should have believed in you.’ Meghna sighed down the line.

Not the one to say, ‘I-told-you-so’ Jaanvi gave out a low whistle and gently asked her friend what had happened that drove her to such a conclusion. Right from the beginning Jaanvi was of the opinion, ‘marriage meant self-invited trouble.’ She had decided never to get married, commitment was dangerous. She was not ready to forsake her independence for the sake of so-called ‘tall-dark-handsome-self-proclaimed-brainy-guy-slowly-taking-control-over-your-life. According to her ‘marriage was opium’.

Meghna’s opinion differed on this point. For her marriage was a sacred institution. Commitment meant proclamation of selfless love. Many a times both the friends had argued over this matter and both had stood their ground. Meghna married Ashutosh after a whirlwind romance and Jaanvi thought her best friend had chosen the path to self-destruction.

‘I was an emotional fool then. I should have listened to you…’ Meghna sighed as daylight faded in to dusk. She felt despair creeping in to her bones as night set in.

‘I want to stand up and acknowledge myself… my capabilities. How long do I wait up on someone who is least bothered about my existence? . . . just walks all over me without giving my feelings a thought! Jaanu… I am living a life of nonentity. Ashu doesn’t care…’ Inspite of self-control tears spilled over her face. Meghna wiped them off with the sleeve of her hand. Outside the darkness reflected her mood.

Jaanvi put her laptop on hibernation mode and walked out of the office where