Manohar Kahani

by Raghu Srinivasan

Genres: Humorous Fiction

Synopsis

"

Life is perfectly peaceful for the Mehtas. Kalyani Mehta's homestay by the sea is a little garden of Eden where she, her retired occultist husband and feckless, unemployed son live happy, dysfunctional lives.

Enter snake.

Bobby Chander, a billionaire NRI, makes a bid for the property. Kalyani rebuffs his offer, but the sleazy real estate tycoon, refusing to back down, starts making life miserable for Kalyani. With her back to the wall, she reluctantly reaches out to her younger sister, who happens to be incarcerated, for help. Maya is a genie best left in the bottle. Her elaborate con attracts a host of devious characters, pursuing nefarious agendas of their own...

Manohar Kahani is a goofy misadventure with a heap of chaos and a pinch of crazy.

"

Release date: March 18, 2024

Publisher: Hachette India

Print pages: 208

Sample

Chapter 1



Kalyani Mehta ascended the stairs leading to the tree house, gingerly balancing a tender coconut cocktail and the day’s newspaper. Reaching the top without mishap, she settled her generous frame into a canvas deckchair and pulled on the straw. She let nature’s Konkan coast nectar – three parts coconut water and one-part feni – settle at the back of her throat for a second before letting the rejuvenating fluid pass down her gullet. Involuntarily, an unladylike hiss, closely resembling water being poured into a hot radiator, passed through her lips. The mistress of Kokum Grove, ‘your dream getaway by the sea’, was savouring a well-deserved PLD1.

Her gaze drifted languidly to their double-storey property 20 metres away, then further beyond to the strip of beach, before finally settling on a dhow bobbing on the cobalt blue waters of the sun-drenched Arabian Sea. She took another deep pull and closed her eyes.

‘Memsahib.’

Kalyani, who had almost dozed off, grimaced as she recognized the sad, sing-song voice of Philomena, her efficient and zealously pious head of housekeeping, call out from below. This was her break time! She struggled out of her deckchair, balanced her coconut on a stool and leaned over the rails.

‘What is it?’ she asked irritably of the thin woman with an unruly mop of white hair who, for some strange reason, always wore sunglasses. Kalyani always had the feeling that when they were finally consumed by the pralay she was bound to encounter Philomena reproachfully telling her that she had foretold their doom.

‘There is a problem, memsahib,’ Philomena replied, shaking her head, her sad voice taking on an ominous tinge. The head of housekeeping paused for effect and continued, ‘That man who checked in yesterday evening, he has been causing trouble.’

‘Which man?’

‘The big, bald man who came with his daughter. They asked for separate rooms. Mr Chander.’

‘Bobby Chander, the NRI from Africa?’ Kalyani nodded, remembering the guest. ‘What has he done?’

‘Many things,’ the head of housekeeping answered, clicking her tongue. ‘First, this morning, he went into the sea naked. He thought there was no one looking, but I saw him as I walked back from dawn church service.’

‘Oh,’ Kalyani retorted, her voice clearly indicating she didn’t think it was such a big misdemeanour. ‘He’s from Africa; he might not know the rules here. We can tell him. I’m sure he won’t do it again.’

‘I knew you would not think much of that, memsahib,’ Philomena responded, ‘so I didn’t tell you. But I knew in my heart, when I saw him, that there was more evil yet to come, so I kept a watch on him, and sure enough, I caught him.’ The old woman paused and rubbed her hands with some relish.

‘Doing what?’ Kalyani asked tiredly. She really needed some Konkan coast nectar.

‘Kissing the new maid, Memsahib.’

‘Oh my God!’ Kalyani exclaimed with some alarm. ‘Who, Meena? The poor girl! How is she?’

‘She is a sinner, memsahib; she never told me. But I had seen it with my own eyes! I confronted her, and she denies it ever happened. No doubt, she has accepted some gift from that vile man.’

Kalyani thought for a moment. Mr Chander had checked in for a month. She knew she would need to have some firm words with him before this got out of hand.

‘Where is he now?’

‘He’s at the bar, memsahib.’

‘I will meet him there. Tell Mithu also to be there. It’s time he learns how to deal with awkward guests.’

Mithu was Kalyani’s son, who was back home after graduating from college and was now on what he euphemistically called a ‘break’. It was Kalyani’s hope that her son would take over the running of their resort. This aspiration was resisted vigorously by the young man, who, being an ardent leftist, was against all forms of private enterprise. He had come home trying to get his mother to fund his stay in Mumbai, where he wanted to make meaningful films.

The said Mithu, attired in a khadi kurta, which would have met the Parthasarathy Rocks2 gold standard, accosted his mother at the entrance to the bar.

‘I think I have made it quite clear, Mama, that I have no interest in running this resort. There are very important films I need to make. I don’t know why you insist on my getting involved with your day-to-day running of this place,’ he said crossly. He was a tall, slim, presentable young man with long, wavy hair and large, brown eyes. Kalyani looked back affectionately at her son, seeing a younger version of his father in him – pretty and utterly useless.

‘We have been over this, Mithu,’ she said, patting his cheek, ‘Our deal was that you would work diligently till the end of the season, and then I’ll consider sending you to Mumbai. Now follow me and don’t say a word.’

Mithu, though dumb in many aspects, was smart enough to know that you needed a lot of money to be the change you wanted to see. He quietly followed her.

Mr Chander and his daughter were the only guests at the bar. He was sitting at the counter, nursing a beer and talking to Satya, their barman slash handyman. The only other person in the bar was a slim girl with a pretty, elfin face who Kalyani remembered was Bobby Chander’s daughter. She sat alone at a table. Good, Kalyani thought, there aren’t any other guests.

Kalyani walked up to the man and coughed. ‘Mr Chander, may I have a word please,’ she said softly. Mr Chander turned his portly frame with elaborate slowness on his bar stool and looked at her through dark, piercing eyes hooded by unruly, bushy eyebrows, which were the only hair he had above the thoracic region.

‘Yes?’ he asked in a nasal voice, surprisingly high-pitched for such a large man.

‘I am Kalyani Mehta. I own this property,’ she coughed. ‘I hope you are comfortable.’

‘Ah yes, yes,’ the fat man replied, ‘very comfortable.’ He cocked his head to one side, ‘Owner you said, did ya? As it so happens, I have been wanting to have a word with you.’ He looked her over, quite obviously checking her out. ‘Sit down.’ He patted the adjacent bar stool, then turned to the barman. ‘Satya, my man, get the lady what she would like to drink.’

While Kalyani was introducing herself to Bobby Chander, Mithu glanced at the girl and seeing her looking at him, smiled tentatively at her. She smiled back, upon which Mithu walked up to her table.

‘Hi,’ he introduced himself, ‘I’m Mithu.’

‘Hi to you,’ the girl retorted. ‘I’m Kokil.’

‘You have a cool accent, Kokil.’

‘You think so?’ the girl grinned. ‘I’m from Africa.’ She gestured for him to sit down. ‘Why don’t you join me? I’m having a martini.’

‘I don’t really drink that much,’ Mithu told her as he sat down. ‘Once in a while I drink a beer, but today, I’ll pass.’

Back at the bar counter, Kalyani quite coincidentally, declined Bobby’s offer for a drink. ‘Thank you, but I’d rather not,’ she told him.

‘Nonsense,’ he retorted. ‘In Africa, all business is done over a drink. You want to talk to me; you get a drink.’ He leaned forward and gave a leery grin. ‘It’s not every day that I get the company of a pretty lady like you with the kind of jiggle you have.’ He slowly swung back to face the counter and noisily drank from his mug.

She tried once more to reason with him, but he gave no indication of having heard her. Kalyani threw up her hands in exasperation. The man is a pig! Looking around, she noticed that Mithu had left her side and was seated opposite the girl. This made her angrier. Desertion in the ranks!

Taking a deep breath, she climbed on to the bar stool and gave her order to Satya, who poured her a Campari and soda. She took a sip, then turned to the man and asked, ‘Now, before you discuss what you want to with me, there is a rather sensitive matter that I need to bring to your notice.’

‘Sure, you go first,’ Mr Chander replied, turning towards her. ‘But straight off, I want to tell you that you have a great place, very scenic.’ He paused, searching for the right words. ‘Lots of energy and vitality. I like it.’

‘I am glad to hear that,’ Kalyani said drily and came straight to the point. ‘I must inform you, Mr Chander, that nudity is not permitted on the beaches. It’s an offence for which you might get arrested.’

‘Oh?’ the man retorted, then paused for a moment, taking in what she had told him. ‘I guessed as much, but I went into the water very early. There were no people around, just a blind old lady.’ He paused and cocked his head to one side. ‘That old lady, she is not blind?’

‘I just urge you to follow the rules,’ Kalyani told him firmly, not bothering to answer his question.

‘Okay. You got it. Anything else?’

‘In fact, yes. You are not to kiss the staff.’

The man stared at her and wagged his finger. ‘This has not come to you from the maid; it has been reported by the blind woman who actually is not blind!’

‘Really, Mr Chander? That’s not the point. You are not to repeat what you did.’

‘But it was nothing. The girl was sweet, I showed affection in the African way. See?’ He leaned forward, pouting his lips.

Kalyani pushed his face back with the palm of her hand, shuddering involuntarily. The man had the sex appeal of a geriatric chimpanzee.

‘No kissing the staff,’ she said firmly, ‘otherwise, it becomes a police matter.’

He stared at her, and after a moment, nodded resignedly. ‘No kissing.’

‘And no nudity.’

‘No nudity,’ he promised, throwing up his hands in surrender.

‘Good.’ She gave a business-like smile. ‘Now, you had something for me?’

‘Yes, Kalyani.’ He nodded and continued, ‘This hotel is really nice. How well do you do?’

Kalyani wondered where this was going. ‘Well, we get by,’ she answered guardedly.

‘Yes, you do,’ the man replied. ‘But you do know that Marriott has bought some land here and will soon build a hotel? That’s going to eat into your clientele.’

‘They have had that land for a great many years now,’ she responded, ‘but they are yet to start building.’

‘Mark my words, they will soon enough,’ he retorted. ‘And when they do, all the tourists will flock to them, unless you upgrade. I do grant you that your location is great, but it needs to be developed.’

‘Uh huh.’ Kalyani countered, ‘And just where is this conversation going, Mr Chander?’

‘I would like to buy this place,’ he told her, and then, without beating around the bush, he said, ‘How much do you want for it?’

‘What?’ she asked incredulously, not quite sure she had heard the man right.

‘Like I said, this place is very beautiful. It could be developed to cater to the uber-rich as a private getaway for their… ah… private life,’ he continued, unruffled by her shocked response. ‘Just tell me how much you want for it? Or maybe you could take a day or two to think about it and come up with a figure?’

‘Mr Chander, let me tell you something,’ she said slowly and firmly, the way one would explain to a child. ‘When we first came here, there was nothing. I built this place from the ground upwards. This is my home, and my staff is like my family.’ She paused, then added with some emphasis, ‘Kokum Grove is not for sale.’

‘Everything can be bought, sweetie. It just depends on the price and who gets the money.’ He stroked his bald head. ‘Name your price and take the money.’

‘I am not even considering your proposal, Mr Chander.’

‘I’ll have to lay off most of the staff, but I’ll keep some of the ones you recommend,’ he continued, quite oblivious to her rejection of his proposal. ‘In fact,’ he leaned forward and smirked at her, ‘you can stay on in your present quarters if you want, as my manager. You will find me to be a generous employer.’

The man is not just a pig, she thought, he is a crazy pig. And she had reached the end of her tether.

‘We are not having this conversation again, Mr Chander. Not now, not ever,’ she said loudly through clenched teeth, not bothering to conceal her anger. She slid off the bar stool and stormed out of the bar.

Mithu and Mr Chander’s daughter came scurrying after her.

‘What happened, Mama?’ Mithu asked, ‘You were shouting at the man? Our guest?’

‘Mr Chander just made a very inappropriate proposal to me,’ she replied after taking a deep breath.

‘Oh wow!’ her first and only born retorted wide-eyed. ‘Did he offer you a million dollars, Mama?’

‘No!’ Kalyani said irritably and looked closely at him. Clearly, they were not on the same page. ‘What are you blabbering about?’

‘I think what Mithu is talking about is from the movie,’ the young girl pitched in helpfully, ‘you know, An Indecent Proposal.’

Kalyani’s face wore a pained expression as she smacked the boy on his head. This brainless wonder truly tested a mother’s love.

‘Ow!’ the boy exclaimed, rubbing his head. ‘What was that for?’

‘It’s all right to get angry, Mrs Mehta. That man is universally despised, and I’m number one on the list of people who hates him,’ the girl told her.

Kalyani gave her a surprised look. ‘He is your father,’ she murmured.

‘Stepfather,’ she corrected, ‘and I have nothing to do with him.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’m Kokil.’

As they shook hands, the girl asked, ‘What did he say?’

‘He wanted to buy the hotel. I told him I wasn’t interested in selling, but he remained adamant to the point of idiocy.’

‘Well, you should know that that is what he does for a living. He scouts for properties around the world, buys them cheap, and then, after developing them, makes a killing selling them. Someone must have told him about this place, which is why we are here,’ she explained, then added, ‘Once that man sets his sights on something, he pursues it with pig-headed obstinacy.’

‘I’m not selling,’ Kalyani told Kokil firmly.

‘Good for you! Don’t let him bully you,’ Kokil exulted, and reaching out, squeezed the older woman’s shoulder. ‘Count me on your side.’

‘He wants to buy the hotel, Mama? We should sell! Get a good price and move out from this nowhere land and head to Mumbai!’ Mithu suggested.

‘Oh, shut up!’ both women growled at him in unison.

Mithu shut up.

 

1. PLD: pre-lunch drink

2. A popular student hangout at Jawaharlal Nehru University

Chapter 2



Peace and tranquillity reigned at Kokum Grove in the week after Kalyani’s tumultuous exchange with Bobby Chander.

The man kept his promises; he did not bathe naked in the sea or kiss any maids. The indomitable Philomena, who kept him under intense, round-the-clock surveillance never caught him indulging in any of the aforesaid nefarious activities. She reported the same to her mistress.

‘I have been following him around, but I have not found any evidence of wrongdoing,’ and then on an ominous note added, ‘thus far.’

A mental picture of a neurotic old lady in dark glasses, lurking in the shadows, watching your every move flashed before Kalyani.

‘I have not asked you to stalk our guests, Philomena,’ Kalyani told her patiently.

‘He has been behaving normally,’ the maid continued, quite ignoring her, ‘He takes long walks along the sea, and he has been meeting with local people in the town. Since I do not have a vehicle, I could not follow him into town, but I have been getting reports on the phone.’

‘I really don’t want to know,’ Kalyani tried again.

‘But it’s a façade, memsahib. He is a sinner; the mask will fall,’ Philomena said, rubbing her hands, ‘and when that happens, I will catch him.’

Kalyani gave up. ‘Thank you, Philomena,’ she told the maid, and then leaving her, hurried to the bar for one of Satya’s restorative potions.

The conjugal relations between Kalyani and her husband, Bambi Mehta, were aligned to the cosmic ord. . .