The House That BJ Built
Anuja Chauhan
Language: English
Pages: 210
ISBN: 9385152181
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
I'll make my sisters squirm like well-salted earthworms. I won't sell. Even my jutti wont sell. And if I die na, then even my gosht won't sell! The late Binodini Thakur had been very clear that she would never agree to sell her hissa in her Bauji's big old house on Hailey Road. And her daughter Bonu, is determined to honor her mothers wishes.
But what to do about her four pushy aunts who are insisting she sell? One is bald and stingy, one is jobless and manless, one needs the money to 'save the nation' and one is stepmother to Bonus childhood crush-brilliant young Bollywood director Samar Vir Singh, who promised BJ upon his deathbed that he would get the house sold, divvy the money equally and end all the bickering within the family.
The first word baby Bonu ever spoke was 'Balls' and indeed, she is ballsy, bullshit-intolerant, brave and beautiful. But is she strong enough to weather emotional blackmail by the spadefull? Not to mention shady builders, wily politicians, spies, lies and the knee-buckling hotness of Samars intense eyes? Sharply observed and pulse-quickeningly romantic, this is Anuja Chauhan writing at her sparkling best!
everything was settled years ago!’ Gulgul springs to his feet again. ‘The fact of the case is that Pushkar Narayan Thakur, deeply suspicious of this supposedly premature cackkoo in his nest, carried out certain enquiries that cunfirmed his suspicions. Once he had this cunfirmation, he made out a new will leaving all his property to his younger son, my client, Plaintiff 1! Tauji—beg your pardon, Laxmi Narayan Thakur, first suppressed and later contested that will, and being a well-connected man in
Auntieji happy—to keep all the Hailey Road auntiejis happy. Running a business of this size in a residential area is technically against the law, but Bonu keeps the housewives well-supplied with the latest fashions at very reasonable prices. In return they all keep mum about Vicky’s Secret. ‘Good job, Masterji,’ she says to her head tailor. This worthy is sitting half hidden behind a growing pile of detachable, poly-fill-stuffed bust-boosting pads, churning them out at a feverish rate.
look at his brother out of one bright, canny eye. ‘Shall I tell?’ Biren Tring nods. ‘Because when my father left his village, he swore he wouldn’t come back till he became both rich and famous. He died a nameless pauper, and we are not much better off, so we cannot return.’ ‘But why did he make such a strange vow?’ asks Samar, the film-maker in him immediately sensing a good story. ‘To become rich and famous? Was there a girl involved?’ Namgay Tring nods. ‘He had a Fancy.’
and wrested it from Mustaq Khan’s nerveless fingers. A confused hush falls over the gathered crowd. ‘Chupp, behenchod,’ says Namgay Tring in a magnified voice, very lucidly and without heat. ‘Be quiet, you ugly little toad. Thirty years we’ve worked for you and you damn-cared about us.’ ‘Haw!’ says Chachiji, clapping a hand over her open mouth. She isn’t alone. The entire audience joins her in a collective gasp. Namgay Tring changes gear, going from mild to militant in one
whatsoever! It’s been quite a coup—and thankfully bloodless too!’ ‘One down, two to go,’ murmurs Chandu with a sly glance at Bonu Singh, who stiffens immediately. ‘We’ll get to those later,’ Eshwari says quickly. ‘Let’s just be happy for now!’ She looks around the little gathering. ‘How should we celebrate? Go out for lunch someplace?’ ‘I’m not in the mood, thanks,’ Bonu says, her tone subdued. ‘Arrey!’ Anjini looks concerned. ‘What’s up? And you Samar, why’re you so quiet? Are