Authors: Anuja Chauhan
The Undersigned is to REFRAIN FROM ANY BODILY CONTACT with any members of the Team, except from a kiss on the facial cheek or a comradely pat on the back.
The Undersigned is to KISS AT LEAST ONE TEAM MEMBER on the facial cheek directly after breakfast on the day of every India match.
The Undersigned is expressly forbidden from engaging in any physical contact with any member of any other cricket team whatsoever.
The Undersigned is forbidden from the Team locker room, the Team strategy and coaching meetings and training sessions.
The Undersigned is to defer at all times to the team leadership and chain of command.
The Undersigned is to refrain from endorsing any product that may be in conflict with the products or companies sponsoring the Cricket World Cup 2011.
The Undersigned is to MAINTAIN HER SPINSTER STATUS till the 22nd of May 2011.
The Undersigned is to treat every conversation with the Team or any or every of its members as TOTALLY CONFIDENTIAL. The Undersigned is to divulge no information regarding the workings and strategies of the team, that she may be privy to either intentionally or unintentionally.
The Undersigned is to give NO INTERVIEWS OR QUOTES to any member of the print, TV, email or radio press.
The Undersigned is to travel and stay at any five-star hotel of the Board's choice in the continent of Australia for the period of the World Cup 2011.
For this the Undersigned will receive from the Board, all expenses paid, and a sum of RUPEES TEN LAKHS in cash, on the 23rd of May 2011.
This sum will be paid out irrespective of how the team performs in the cricket world cup 2011.
IF HOWEVER, THE TEAM WINS THE ICC CRICKET WORLD CUP 2011 TOURNAMENT, THE SUM PAID OUT TO THE UNDERSIGNED WILL DOUBLE EXACTLY.
The Undersigned will be, for the period till the 22nd of May 2011, a bonafide employee of the Board and will be subject to all its rules and policies as such.
If the undersigned violates any terms of this contract, it shall be declared instantly null and void.
It took me forty minutes to read through the whole thing and to kind of grasp what it meant. I read the ten lakhs bit right in the beginning though, because they'd written it in big type and it kind of jumped out of the page at you. It was good money for someone like me who hadn't ten thousand in the bank. But some of the clauses in the contract worried me.
Like, where had they picked up the phrase
facial cheek
?What was all that stuff about kisses? Why couldn't I get married? Why couldn't I endorse brands? And why did I have to defer to the 'team leadership and chain of command'? That sounded like Khoda and Wes Hardin could really push me around!
As I read the thing through, I felt my (facial) cheeks getting hotter and hotter. When I reached the end of the page, I looked up and asked, in a voice that was shaking slightly, 'Is this some kind of a joke?'
At the other end of the table, my dad snorted loudly in agreement.
None of the IBCC guys said a word.
And then Lokey burst in, breathing heavily, 'Ten lakhs? That's
it
? You are expecting my young client here to disrupt her professional life, experience, her...um...distasteful physical contacts and go through so much ups and downs psychologically for this' - he paused, tried to find an English word that fitted and then gave up - '
chawanni
sum?'
'And why can't
my
client get married if she likes?' Joel Saldhana demanded (stressing the
my
for Lokey's benefit I think).
The IBCC contingent, obviously taken aback at this onslaught, turned to look at the godman-type dude in mute appeal.
He inhaled deeply, put his palms face down on the polished table top and said calmly, 'We fear marriage may affect her propitiousness.' He turned towards me, locked his hypnotic, boiled-looking eyeballs with my indignant ones and said in a kindly voice that sent a shiver down my spine, 'You see, your propitiousness is directly proportional to your purity, Devi.'
I almost choked. How humiliating. Now this entire room knew that at the grand old age of twenty-seven I had still not been relieved of my 'purity'. And how did the old godman variety know anyway? It wasn't like I was walking around with a STILL-A-VIRGIN glow-sign on my forehead. So it had to be total guesswork on his part.
Whatever. He was seriously intruding on my personal space. 'Listen, you're seriously intruding on my personal space,' I told him.
The godman said nothing, but all the legal types leapt up and started making a lot of soothing noises, saying nothing was
final
, it was all very rough, just a first draft, and so on.
My dad held up one hand, and such was the impact of his flaring nostrils that they all backed off one by one.
When the room had gone quiet, he said, 'Gentlemen, I will be honest with you. The money is tempting. Besides, my daughter is dutiful and would like to be of service to her country. But she is not a minor. Even
I
cannot tell her to wed or not to wed, to fast or not to fast. How can
you
people do so? There are too many conditions to this contract. And forgive me, but I have to add that it's also extremely crassly worded. So I'm sorry, your offer, as it stands, is unacceptable.' He turned to look at me. 'Right, beta?'
I nodded back gratefully. 'Right, Dad.'
***
10
The next day, Mon, Neelo and I drove down to the Taj to take Zahid through the HotCrust Fastest Deliveries concept. Monita grinned knowingly at me as I got into the car. 'Nice lipgloss,' she said slyly. 'I hear Khoda's staying in the same hotel as Zahid.'
Zahid was already in the lobby, studiously ignoring a gaggle of about ten giggly Miss India contestants, when we breezed in through the revolving doors. 'Look at them,' Mon said as they sashayed past us, trailing shiny re-bonded hair and flowery perfume. 'Armaan would've died and gone to heaven!'
Zahid smiled up through his tousled curls and bounced to his feet when he spotted our little party. 'Aadaab,
'
he said to Monita, who looked instantly charmed. 'I'm Zahid.'
'Oh we
know
that!' she gushed, while I, frantic to show I wasn't in love with him, limited myself to a cursory 'hi'.
But he was fully enthu. 'Hey, Zoya!' he went, all booming and beaming. He came forward like he was going to give me a hug and then for some reason, didn't. 'How are you?
Maine suna
you're coming with us to Australia?'
'Nothing's certain yet,' I said, wondering if he had any idea about the idiotic contract I'd been asked to sign. Who knows, maybe he was the one who'd put in the 'facial cheek' caveat. Trying to look all professional, I asked him in a business-like way: 'It'll take a little while. Shall we go to the coffee shop?'
He nodded and stood up again, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, his hands in his pockets. The girls behind us gave out little hysterical screams. I heard one of them shriek, 'He did aadaab! He's too yum, ya!'
Zahid looked at us, an expression of comic alarm on his face and asked, 'Can we go up to my room instead? Coffee shop
mein kaafi
crowd
hai
!'
Monita laughed and nodded. 'Lead the way,' she said, and he walked us to the elevators.
Going up, Neelo explained to Zahid that Mon was his boss and responsible for most of the
Zing!
stuff he saw on TV.
An awkward little silence followed.
I cleared my throat and said, 'Um, this is quite a unique concept she's thought up, it's been tailor-made for you.'
'Great,' he said, as we exited the lift. 'Only, I hope it won't take up too much time. We have only got three weeks off and I want to go home for a while.'
'Where do you live, Zahid?' Mon asked, looking at him all maternally.
He smiled and tossed his curls back a little. 'In Sangrur district
ji
,' he said easily. 'Family home
wahin hai
.'
Then Neelo and Monita explained the HotCrust Fastest Deliveries concept to him as I looked about the suite. It was pretty plush. Would the IBCC put me up in a room half as nice as this if I promised to 'maintain my spinster status' and went to Australia with the team, I wondered.
'Zoya?' Mon was saying.
I snapped back to the here and now and looked at her guiltily.
'Zahid was asking how many houses we'd be visiting every day and what the security arrangements would be like.'
'Oh!' I nodded and pulled out my notes.
'I like the concept,' Zahid said finally. 'It will be very fun. Also, reality shows are very nice. But the dates you'll have to discuss with Lokendar.'
'No problem,' Neelo said easily. 'We'll get it done.' Then he grinned and asked, 'So when does the judging start?'
Zahid went a little pink. 'Now. I have to go down to the poolside. I do not do these things usually,' he explained, 'but Harry sir has phasaaoed me. He was supposed to do it but cancelled last minute.'
Neelo looked at him enviously. 'Swimsuit round!' he breathed, his voice all thick with saliva bubbles. 'What's the judging procedure, exactly?'
Zahid grinned weakly and stole a look at Mon and me, obviously embarrassed at having this conversation in front of us. 'I think
ki
you just look at them as they walk past you and give them marks out of ten,' he ventured finally.
'Uh huh? Neelo said, opening and shutting one hand with a distracted air. 'But then how can you check for
firmness
? and -' he made little caressing movements in the air - '
smoothness?
Surely those are vital criteria?'
Zahid looked completely stumped at this. 'You think so?' he said doubtfully.
Neelo nodded. 'Absolutely! You'd better feel them up thoroughly, dude,' he said. 'I mean, it's your
responsibility.
This is a Miss India pageant after all - it's a matter of national
honour.
Tell you what, I've shot supermodels many times. If you like I can stay back and...'
'Neelo!' Mon groaned. 'Shut it! Zahid, nice meeting you, catch you at the event launch, ya?'
Rinku Chachi and I watched the Miss India Final that night on her TV. She'd made hamburgers for dinner - spicy aalu tikki really - and cold coffee in big glasses. We chatted during the commercial breaks, which were extremely long and full of Fair and Lovely ads and played at being judges when the girls came back on the screen. She was very excited about the fact that I knew not one but twopeople in the contest. Nikhil Khoda, of course, and Ritu Raina, who was going to come in at the end of the show to crown the new Miss India Universe.
Rinku Chachi thought Nivi was a real loser for caving in to his mom and dumping Ritu - it had been in all the papers recently. '
Arrey
, he has no guts only, Zoya! He's a mouse, a fat, darpok chooha! I hope she snares Rahul Gandhi now and shows him!'
That's Rinku Chachi's philosophy. If a guy breaks up with you, find someone higher in the pecking order and go out with him instead. She suggests Rahul Gandhi as a get-over-your-ex remedy for every girl who ever gets dumped - from Princess Diana to all the former Mrs Khans.
'Shhh, Chachi,' I said. 'Look, they're asking the questions now.'
The five final contestants were all lined up and pulling judges' names out of a hat. The first babe drew a card with Shah Rukh Khan's name on it and almost died of happiness.
He dimpled at her charmingly and went, 'Good evening, Urvashi,' or whatever her name was, and then came out with this really convoluted question: 'If you could marry a film star like me, or a business mogul like Andre here, or a cricketer like Nikhil, which one of us would you marry and why?'
I waited for her to say that she would marry the man she happened to love, regardless of his profession, of course. Duh!
But she didn't! She simpered and said that while she appreciated his acting and Andre's contribution to the nation's economy, she would marry Nikhil because she was a patriotic girl and he was a soldier who fought for the country.
And she got a standing ovation!
They cut to Nikhil and he smiled at her and everything!
It was so cheesy!