Natasha is coming!

I looked on as the chits of paper burst into flashes and crawled into ashes. It was a relief. All the bills of the restaurants I had visited had been destroyed. “oi JJ” whispered the Jackal “what do we do with the bottle?”

My god, my heart sank. If my father discovered the bottle of wine hidden in my closet, he would fry me alive. “We will look into it later” I announced. I had another more pressing concern. Restoring the money I had stolen from my dads account.

“Bloody Natasha” whispered the builder “Unreliable chick”. “Very dangerous” agreed the Jackal.” “Damn girl” I completed my part of the cursing.

It began on a warm summer Sunday. My holiday started as usual with a sneak peak at my Facebook profile. And there it was. Scribbled across my Facebook wall, a massage from Natasha. “ I am coming” It announced bluntly “on Fridy the 13^th” “Holy shit! Its one week from today!” speaking to myself in panic, I fumbled with the phone to try and plan a Goa trip for Natasha. With both my parents out of station for a couple of days, I had to find someone to guide me through the planning.

Within minutes, the man who knew everything about roads and restaurants in Goa appeared before me. “Natasha is coming. Suggest a restaurant.” I coolly stated what I needed from him. “Ahem…” the builder wiped his glasses and scratched his bald head. “You see, I was out of station for past few months. Several new hotels have been opened in Panaji recently. How about we try them out? You pick one that you like.”

We started from hotel Sartaj, the cheapest tolerable restaurant in Panaji. “err… this is not what I had in mind” “oh!” he chocked on his soda-lemon, “yus yus, it’s a bit dingy, but its my favorite! Alrite, so you want the class type eh?” he rose. “Off to Hotel Fidalgoooo”

“Cannot afford, please contribute!” I screamed looking at the bill. The next day we tried Hotel Texas the day after that, Master Chef. With three days remaining for Natasha’s visit, I discovered that my entire salary for that month had been spent on fuel for body and fuel for my car.

“Bastard!” I reprimanded the builder “where do I bring cash from to impress the girl now?” The builder shook his head violently “I m sorry man, I m really sorry, you can borrow from me if you want.”

Borrow? Hell, I am respectable man I never borrow from anyone when I have my dad. Dad was out of station. So, I turned to the only ‘family’ I could trust and borrow from. The Jackal.

“Ten thousand rupees huh?” The Jackal stared coldly at my face. “Why come to me when you have the money?” “Dad is out of station” “Who needs dad? We need his signature.”

“Forgery!” my feet went cold.

“What nonsense, it’s only your dad. What belongs to him belongs to you.” the builder offered consolation like a true friend. “How can you steal from yourself?” asked the jackal. Trembling like a criminal, I took out the document I could find containing my dad’s sign- my school report card.

“Stop.” hissed the Jackal when I was about to scowl my dads signature onto the cheque book I had smuggled from his drawer. “A left hander cannot forge a signature made with right hand. The tilt and fluency of the letterswill differ significantly.” He pushed the cheque book to the builder “you can do it.”

Now it was the bald man’s turn to panic. “It’s your idea! Why don’t you do it?” “I hurt my hand in yesterday’s basketball match.” The treacherous engineer now started coaching the builder in signature forgery. “Remember, avoid shaky handwriting. Do not lift your pen in the middle of the signature and above all, the signature on the cheque should not be exactly similar to that on the report card.”

“No similarity?”

“A signature is something people scribble absent-mindedly. If it is too perfect, it means it’s done with great concentration. Only a diffident forger will ‘concentrate’ leading to a perfect signature and get himself caught.”

“There is only one trick to achieve these things.” The Jackal closed his eyes mimicking a meditating monk. “Keep your mind calm.” “Alright” the builder took a deep breath to calm down his mind. “Practice…practice ….practice” he practiced the sign 10-12 times on a sheet of paper and then went for the chequebook.

“Voila!”

A cheque of Rs. 10000 from my dad!

“You never told me it involved a lady.” The Jackal whispered with a grin as we came out of the bank. “I can help you with the tourist spots. Now that you have cash, you can try the water sports too!” “Think about it.” he pressed his argument at my denial. “The chick will be impressed.”

The mention of the girl melted my heart.

Now we were at Calangute. “All packages of water sports for three” the jackal placed an order and hopped onto a banana boat. After banana boat, water scooter and Para-sailing, half of our funds and all of our stamina was exhausted. As I counted out the notes to pay for the sports, the builder blurted out his irritating trademark line. “Need to eat.”

A quarter of the remaining half was thus spent in a shack where food cost three times the average. “This girl,” the builder enquired sipping his soft drink “this girl has a lot of knowledge about wines you say” I nodded. “Well then why not buy a good wine from the money that is remaining?”

“Awesome!” the jackal bounced up as if he had got an electric shock. “ I will buy you the best wine in town.” He snatched the wallet from my hands and walked off only to return with an expensive bottle of Red wine.”

“My whole family does not drink! I shouted “my dad will kill me if he sees the bottle!” “who says you’re keeping the bottle? You keep it in the car; we go meet the chick, hand over the bottle and then go collect your dad.”

“Agreed.” I kept the bottle in the car. One day to go before Natasha arrived and relieved me of the bottle. We decided to spend the night deciding on which beach and which restaurant to take her to.

Just as we were about to finalize the plan, my phone beeped. “ok guys,” I announced triumphantly “a message from Natasha.” The duo readied their notepads and pens to note down the time of her arrival. “Here it is” I stretched their curiosity further.

I got a heart attack when I read the message.

“ TRIP CANCELLED”

“WHAT THE….” The builder smacked his forehead. I began to experience shortage of breath and Jackal began to pace up and down the living room in thought. I calmed myself down and began issuing orders for a clean-up operation. ““We must destroy all the evidence of spending as we cannot justify it now.” “Burn all the bills and delete all photographs.” “Oi JJ” whispered the jackal “what do we do with the bottle?” ““And how do we replenish ‘dead funds/dad funds’ the builder’s sense of humor sharpens in times of danger. “MY GOD, I was enraged. ‘IMMA KILL THAT GAL”

The next day, I donated the bottle to the Jackal and borrowed Rs. 5000 from each of my two uncles telling them my mom needed the money.

Now only one question remains

How to tackle mom?