Bollywood Nightmare

Excerpt From: Bollywood Nightmare

Johnny

I never meant to upset anyone. I swear I’m a happy-go-lucky fun-loving kind of guy, but apparently I rub some people up the wrong way. Hi, I’m Johnny, well, to you I’m Johnny, I don’t give my real name away to humans. I’m a Djinn and I belong to Rahul. His family captured me many moons ago and passed me down through the generations.

Rahul met a woman some time past, they were both young and in love and they married. It caused a huge stir as not only was Laura British she was white British—I’m talking like new-laid snow, folks—and a Bollywood star marrying out of his faith and his race caused a big kerfuffle all around the world, not just in Mumbai.

They’ve proved their critics wrong because twenty-three years later they are still together and as much in love as ever. It makes me sick to my stomach to see them fawning all over each other. It’d upset you too if you were stuck in another world far away from the one you loved. Back in Jennistan is my girl. I don’t even know if she is still my girl after all these years. I am hoping so. We were hopelessly in love back in the day. We doted on one another and were pledged to be married.

Anyway, that’s more than you really need to know. I’m getting old and stupid. I should keep my guard up more often but living with humans taints me, makes me weak.

So, I like to tell stories. Ask anyone. I told a really good one a while ago all about Rahul and his arranged marriage and how I saved the day. It was brilliant and would have been a massive hit if the damn author hadn’t decided to add in Laura’s side of the story too. She just doesn’t have the art like I do. Anyway, here’s a new story for you, I do hope you’ll enjoy it. Actually, I don’t give two hoots if you do or not, I’m just telling it to pass the time in this infernal hell of a human world I live in.

* * * *

So yes, Rahul and Laura married. It was almost a fairy tale. He worked in the movies and she became the translator she’d always dreamed of being. They were disgustingly happy and content and I had high hopes that Rahul would finally wish me free. Then one evening as he supped cold beer in the stifling heat of midsummer I asked him about it.

"So, you’ve got everything you ever wanted, right?"

"Yes," he replied, lazily wiping sweat from his brow with the back of a hand.

"And you’re in love and so very happy, right?"

"Oh, yeah." He still got that dewy-eyed possessed look every time he thought of Laura. Sickening.

"Then you don’t really need me anymore, right?"

"Wrong."

"Come on, Rahul. You have true love and we Djinns can’t even grant that wish, nuh-uh, but I did, didn’t I? I got you married to your true love."

"Your ego has no bounds, Johnny. Yes, no doubt you helped and I thank you for it but the true love came about naturally despite the odds."

"Oh blah, blah, blah. Whatever. I thought you were going to wish me free when you were happy and settled and all that crap."

"Yes, I was going to but something has happened recently to change my mind."

"What’s happened? Has Laura come to her senses and shagged someone hunkier and richer than you?"

"Now you’re just being petulant. No, Laura has not. She has, however, given me some good news."

"She’s returning to England and she’s taking her Britpop CD’s home with her?"

"No, Johnny. Just listen for a minute, would you? Laura is pregnant."

"Oh."

"Is that all you have to say? Geez. I thought you were meant to be the eloquent one."

"Congratulations on the imminent birth of your little crying bratling. Here’s to sleepless nights, smelly nappies and toddler tantrums."

I disappeared then into my little tea kettle. No puff of smoke, no drama. Just a fully grown man shrinking and slipping down the spout of a tall, Eastern-looking brass kettle. It might not be much but I called it home. Bottles were over-rated and don’t get me started on lamps. Pregnant. Shit. I hadn’t considered what would happen then.

"Please, Johnny. Don’t sulk." I could hear Rahul perfectly well through the metal walls of my home. I really should think about getting them soundproofed. "I was all for releasing you, really I was, but now I’ve created new life. We’re going to have a baby, Johnny—well, Laura and I are, you’ve got nothing to do with it—and it’s a big scary world out there. How can I send my little Farishta out into it alone? It would be remiss of me to do so when I have the greatest gift known to mankind. I’m sorry, Johnny, but what’s a few extra years of being my servant, really? I am a good master, I am not a slave driver. And once my little one is established then maybe I will wish you free."

It was not the first time I’d heard the speech, in fact I’d heard variations of it several times over the years. Certain of my masters did seem to care for me and they would promise my freedom, then suddenly they had the prospect of becoming daddies and all sense went out of the window along with my hopes and dreams of freedom. Having your heart ripped out and your dreams stomped on wasn’t something you got used to but sadly it was something I jadedly began to expect from my arsehole human masters.