S1E19: Khush Screwvala Screws!

Recap S1E18 Is Screwvala A Rapist? : Khush mistakes a woman at the club for Raima and tries to approach her. The attempt backfires when bystanders misinterpret it as attempted molestation. Harry comes to the rescue and saves Khush from further embarrassment.

Shom and Raima are still lost to the world, but for a brief message telling their friends that they are doing fine, reliving the past together.

In the meantime, at the club, Khush is not pleased with the omelette he has been served. Harry recommends mouth congress to Khush to activate his taste buds.

That gets Khush out of his foul mood. His defences drop and in a moment of anguish, he confesses to having been accused of rape in his teenage days.

Khush turned emotional as Parsis generally do. Although he was quiet in the car in the presence of the chauffeur for the short run from CCI to BPGC, once alone with Harry on the lush greens of the golf course, he opened up.

Khush: I’m sorry I was too loud at CCI; just couldn’t control myself. There’s a lot I have to tell you about myself. But I need a drink first.

Harry: Too early to drink, we will go to bar just before sunset. Just smoke up now and calm down.

Khush: That’s great, let’s do it. I have a vaping pen. Vaping is 95% safer.

He pulled out the pen and when he demonstrated its use by sucking it, he inhaled no smoke, only vapour that could barely be seen when exhaled. He then passed it on to Harry who also sucked into the pen, imitating Khush.

Harry: So it seems! Very smooth.

Khush: I have never mentioned the incident I am about to narrate to you. It was my grandpa who got me out of that tight corner. He’s no more. Incidentally, Harry you look, talk and carry yourself exactly like him. When I first met you, I was shocked at the resemblance. And happy too that I had him back with me.

Harry: Stop vaping! Are you already stoned? Do I look as old as your grandpa? Only the other day you said I look your age or may be even younger. And now, after today’s incident I look like your grandpa.

Khush: Ha! I was in my early teens when my grandpa was in his sixties. He looked twenty years younger, exactly like you Harry, and that’s one of the reasons why we get along so well.

Harry: Oh! Now tell me now what happened?

Khush was quiet again before he blurted out the secret he had kept to himself for several years.

Khush: What do you do when you are young, beautiful and sexy but condemned to the lonely life of a widow? Especially in a wild and gorgeous place like Goa. Can family restrictions hold you down when your hormones are running wild?

Harry: Go on!

Khush: Gorgeous Goa has always been notorious for being a swinging place. The atmosphere is such that everyone is in the mood for adventure and fun. One of the quieter parts of the territory had a Parsi neighbourhood. The neighbours usually kept to themselves. Two of the houses there were located in such close proximity that living in one, you could see what was going on in the other.

Harry: Okay, okay so what happened?

Khush: An elderly couple lived in each of the two houses. My grandparents were one of them. The other house had a sexy, young, widowed daughter-in-law living with her in-laws. Such was her charm that both men – her father-in-law and my grandpa – had the hots for her. Grandpa used to describe her as ‘umar ma moti pan ekdam juvaan ne dudh jevi gori chatak’. Grandpa’s study faced the sexy widow’s room and he spent a lot of time eyeing her after turning off the lights in the room except the table lamp. My grandma would be fast asleep in her room while my grandpa would write romance in his study.

Harry: Wow! Looks like he had a lot of fun.

Khush: Yes. The neighbourhood being located in a remote area, far from the wilder parts of Goa, the widow was desperate for some action but was caught between two lame ducks. Until the day I arrived from the US to visit my grandparents for the first time. Having lived all my life in the US, I was not conversant with Indian culture.

One afternoon, while exploring the nearby market, I spotted our beautiful neighbour. She was having trouble starting her scooter. Seeing her concern, I offered to help and soon got the scooter working. We got talking and we discovered how we were connected. I had lived in her neighbourhood as a ten-year old and even attended her wedding to a naval officer five years earlier. She told me about her husband who had died in the war with Pakistan. Although she did not remember me as a 10-year old, I remember have the hots for her at that time.

She offered to drop me home and was thrilled to find out that I lived in the house opposite hers. We kept chatting for some time even after reaching home. Seated in his study, grandpa remarked, “Hoosna pari jevi chhokri, my boy! Go after her.”

Harry: And then?

Khush: Late in the night, when the entire neighbourhood was asleep, the sexy widow put on a teeny-weeny negligee and danced provocatively to music playing on her system. She knew that I was watching her. I was totally charged by her suggestive gestures. I rushed to her house, entering it through the toilet window. She was waiting for me. “Chhelle tu aavij gayo,” she said. Grabbing me by my shirt, she dragged me to her room and pushed me down to the bed. She ripped off my shirt and put off the lights as we got entangled.

Moaning with pleasure, she climaxed with a wild scream. It was so loud that perhaps half the neighbourhood heard it. The in-laws in the next room woke up with a start. They called out to her and rushed to her room. The widow froze as she realised this. Shaking me off, she screamed rape. I just bolted. She opened the door and her father-in-law barged in, trying to balance his shotgun. “Kon gadhedo andar ghusi gayo chhe?”

Harry: Oh no! She climaxed, but what about you? You wouldn’t have come so soon.

Khush: Sadly, not.

Harry: Not to worry, we all are suckers like Don Quixote. We rush to help a damsel in distress.

Khush nodded and continued.

Khush: Between sobs, the woman pointed to the toilet. Her father-in-law cautiously entered the toilet with his trembling hands on the shotgun. “Kya bharai gayo? Baar nikad!” Finding no one there, he swore, “Bhaagi gyo, saalo. Bhastegiya. Taroo nakhhod jay!” he said. Panic-stricken, I returned home to an unexpected surprise. Grandpa was holding a camera in his hand and laughing away.

Seeing an apprehensive look on my face, he said, “Khali chanoj jor thi vaage. What’s that lame duck going to do with his shotgun? You and I are the only shooters here. You, with your tool and I, with mine,” he said, holding up his camera. Laughing again in response to my inquiring look, he added, “There is no need to worry. There was no rape. I have all the evidence here till the lights went off. You know the rest.” I felt a sense of relief.

Harry: What happened after that? Did you lay her again?

Khush: How could I? It was a short trip. I was disgusted with myself.

Harry: Did she apologise?

Khush: No way! She had to undergo much questioning and remain within sight of her father-in-law thereafter.

Harry: How did you know that?

Khush: My grandma kept in touch with her and me. And one day she called long-distance. She was all praise for my grandpa and grateful to me. To cut a long story short, we were the victims of circumstance. And I love helping a damsel in distress. I always wanted to do that for Swapna but she refused.

Harry: She’s not a damsel in distress anymore.

Khush: I know! Both have gone away. My grandpa took one and you, the other. But I love you both for doing that.

Harry: Okay, enough. No more vaping.

Just then Khush’s phone began to ring. It was Raima.

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