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That Night At Seema Lodge

"Okay madam...this is the place."

I peered out of the window at the nondescript four storey building. The street wasn't too well lit, so with my sunglasses on at midnight, I couldn't see much. I took them off and got a better look. Wooden letters above the entrance said SEEMA LODGE. This was indeed the place.

I handed the cabbie a 500 rupee note and picked up my handbag.

"Keep the change." I said.

"One minute madam." the cabbie said just as I was about to open the door. He was staring at the note.

"What happened? Is it not enough?" I asked.

"Madam.....maybe it's none of my business but.....you have given me a 300 rupee tip. So you're clearly not in need of money. You sound and act like an educated lady from a good family."

I looked at him in confusion. He turned around, an expression of concern and compassion on his wrinkled old face.

"Madam....you're my daughter's age. Why are you going to such a place? I know what sort of things happen here. I can understand someone doing it for money but..."

"You're right. It's none of your business." I said opening the door and stepping out.

He poked his head out the window.

"Are you in some sort of trouble? Can I help in some way? I know people..."


He was taken aback. I looked at the worried face and felt a surge of appreciation for his decency and kind spirit. It wasn't his fault.

"I am....I am sorry. I shouldn't have yelled." I said. "But please, I have to go."

I turned around and walked up the steps to the entrance. There was a mountain of a man standing at the entrance. Security and bouncer I guessed. He looked at me with a blank expression. I tried to walk past him, but he held out his log like arm.

"Who are you with?"

"Excuse me?"

"Never seen you before. And I wasn't told there's gonna be a new girl. Are you with Tahir? Sridhar? Giri?"

"I...I don't understand. I am here for a....meeting."

"I know what kind of a meeting you're here for, raand!" he growled. Did he just call me a whore? Well, I suppose that was one perspective. But how did he know?


That's when a couple came out through the entrance. A middle aged man with his arm around a woman dressed in a miniskirt and garish make-up. They giggled as they walked past us. The woman gave me an almost territorial look before walking by.

Shit! That's why the cabbie was so worried. Motherfucker Goyal had chosen a whorehouse? I had half a mind to turn around and go home. If only I could.

The guard was still looking at me menacingly. That's when another man came out. He was wearing a cheap looking ill fitting suit. Looked like a hotel manager.

"Oh....you must be the guest of Mr. Sebi?"

"Sebi? Oh....yes yes. Yes. I am."

"Let her through." he said to the guard who moved away.

The hotel lobby was dimly lit and garish. There were half a dozen ladies of the night sitting on various couches and chairs. A couple of men were on their cellphones. Presumably their pimps or customers.

The manager escorted me to the lift.

"Third floor." he said and pushed a button.

I stood there wordlessly. He was scrutinizing my face. Or what little of it was visible. I was wearing my biggest pair of sunglasses, covering half my forehead and my cheeks. And I had a scarf wrapped around my head and neck like a hijaab.

"Have we met before?" he asked.


"There's something very familiar about you. I know you're not one of the working girls. But....I have seen you somewhere."

"I don't think so."

I had always hated doing those interviews with news channels as the "face" of the company. And appearing on magazine covers. It didn't exactly make me a celebrity but did make me recognizable to people who watched the news regularly. Which this manager fella probably did.

Maybe I should've worn a burqa. Thankfully the lift door opened and I walked in.

"Mr. Sebi is in room 304."

Even through my utter loathing and revulsion for Goyal, I couldn't help but smile at his sense of irony in picking a fake name. Sebi...or rather SEBI. Securities and Exchange Board of India.

"You leave me no choice. I have to go to SEBI then." Goyal got up from the chair in my office. This was in the middle of the day a week ago.

"Wait! SIT!" I said in a raised voice. He complied.

"Don't yell at me." he said brusquely. "You can't play boss lady in this situation anymore."

"Come on, Goyal! Be reasonable! I have already agreed to give you the money."

"And I appreciate that you didn't haggle with me about that."

"That's enough money for you and your next few generations to live on. In fact....I will double it!"

"That's very gracious of you, but my original demand stands. You can't negotiate or threaten your way out of this. Maybe you'd like to watch the clip again."

"No, I don't..."

But he swiped his phone screen and started that damn video again. From the party.

"You're kidding!" Hirani said.

"I am not. It's almost a done deal." my dad responded, downing what must have been his eighth scotch of the night. "The Germans will be signing the contract on Thursday. We're doing it hush hush in Goa."

"Your company's stock is going to go through the roof!"

"That's the hope! But you have to keep this to yourself, Hiru."

"My lips are sealed. I still remember the trouble you had two years ago."

My stupid stupid dad. Smart in so many ways, but dumb dumb dumb when it came to this stuff. And he hadn't learned! Even after all the lawyer's fees and bribes and deals we had to make to keep him from a criminal conviction that time.

And of all the people he could have blabbed to, it had to be that sleazebag Hirani. He had absolutely no scruples.

Sure enough, next day a collection of several investors picked up a lot of stocks for our company. Hirani knew how to cover his tracks. But after seeing this video, I knew it had to be him.

"I love this video! I could watch it all day!" Goyal said and grinned.

I sat in silence. The fight almost went out of me. I tried to appeal to his conscience. If he even had one.

"Please Goyal uncle...."

"Uncle!" he said and cackled.

"I am a married woman. And I am willing to give you as much money as I have. Please just don't..."

He got up. Put the phone in his pocket.

"We are going in circles. You have my terms. They are not negotiable. If you want to keep your father from being finally jailed for insider trading, you know what you have to do. The SEBI has been trying to nab him for years. I am sure I will get a very generous reward either way."

I stared at the desk, sighed and nodded.

"Consider this my resignation from the company. You will get an email about the next steps."

I stood outside the door of room 304 for a fool two minutes before I knocked on it. It opened, but only a a little crack.

"Give me your bag." Goyal's voice said.

"What kind of a shady hotel...."


I turned over my handbag to him. The door closed. It opened a minute later.

"Frisk her. But outside."

"What?" I asked as a big burly brute almost seven feet tall stepped out from behind Goyal. He was taller than even the bouncer outside. "What the hell, Goyal?"

"I need to make sure you don't have any weapons."

The brute ran his hands all over my body. But didn't cop a feel. Even when he ran his hands up the inside of my thigh and checked my crotch over the fabric of my jeans, there was a strictly professional air to it.

"She's clean." he said after frisking me

"Okay. Stand guard outside. One hand on your gun."

That's when I noticed that the brute had a gun holstered on his waist. Goyal beckoned me in. I took a deep breath and followed him.

"This whole cloak and dagger routine is unnecessary." I said as I examined the room. It was a lot nicer than I had expected, given how shady the rest of the place was.

"Yeah right! Goyal walked to the window, pushed the curtain aside and examined the street outside. "For all I know, your father has already hired multiple hitmen."

"You watch too many movies!" I said, taking a slip of paper out of my handbag. I also felt relieved that I had resisted the urge to take my gun along. It would've made for an even more unpleasant situation.

Goyal looked at me and smiled. He was wearing a white bathrobe that displayed the thick gray hair on his chest. And the thick hair on his legs. I had to fight off an urge to vomit as I contemplate what lay ahead.

"Either you're being willfully ignorant or you don't know what your father has done in the past to some of his enemies. But I know. I quite literally know where the skeletons are buried."

I ignored the implication and handed him the paper. He looked at it. Then he took out a cellphone.

"Have a seat, madam."

I sat on a swivel chair next to a desk as he called the bank in Switzerland and confirmed the details. Then he told them the details of a different account to transfer the money to. He then called the other bank. But before speaking to them, he said

"Sorry madam, I am going to have to go into the bathroom. Can't have you overhearing all the account numbers and passwords. Your memory is legendary."

I shrugged. When he was inside the bathroom, I took the scarf and the sunglasses off. I checked inside my handbag and made sure the condoms were there. The minutes crawled by. I just sat in the chair, repeating to myself that all this was necessary to save my father. To save the company. To save the family.

"You look gorgeous as always, madam." Goyal stepped out of the bathroom. "But I wish you had dressed up a bit."

I was wearing mommy jeans and a plain black button down shirt.

"What the fuck do you think this is? A date?"

Goyal smiled and approached me. I shivered with disgust as he put a hand on my cheeks.

"So soft!"

He bent down and kissed me. The stench of tobacco filled my nostrils. I was passive in the kiss as his tongue poked inside my mouth for a minute or so and deposited a few ounces of his spit inside.
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