Agent Pinkyfeld

As Pinky was putting her equipment back into the purse she heard an unmistakable voice......
``Damm you Mendacity, this is the fourth night in a row you`ve made me come to this blasted restaurant. My stomach is cramping from all this nouvelle-shouvelle khana pana``
It was the unmistakeable tone of Nurse Practioner. Pinkyfield silently sat still on the seat. What was that *%^ doing here.
``Yes I got the message alright you dumb sthick, why else would I be here? No Mendacity I will not repeat it, its too embarrassing``
Then silence, maybe Nurse Practioner was getting ticked off thought Pinky.
``All right I`ll repeat it,” said NP in a sulky tone.
``Jeena yahan
Marna yahan
Iske siva jana kahan``
The sounds of the toilet flushing drowned out whatever NP had to say. The door opened and Pinkyfield heard the unmistakable sound of hands being washed and the door being slammed. After a suitable period of wait she came out. She was sure now that the key lay with Geena but why? Engrossed in her thoughts she almost collided with Jacque who was pacing in the passage holding Bakhtin`s ``Problems of Dostoevsky`s Creative Art`` in his hand.
``What`s that?`` said Pinkyfield her thoughts sidetracked.
``Oh just some light reading for the night. Oh all right it comes in pretty useful when I need to flatten my garlic pastry crust. Forget about that, what took you so long?``
``Jacque does Geena eat here?``
Jacque looked flustered.
``Why do you want to know that Pinky Putter?``
Something must be wrong Jacque never called her ``Putter`` unless he was agitated.
``Jacque you must tell me, she seems to be the target of a terrorist group, but I can`t figure out why.``
Jacque looked behind him furtively and then quickly opening a side door guided Pinky to his study.
``She is having an affair with Jorge Bushfires, they often come here for a rendezvous.``
``WHAT?``
Pinkyfield was shocked, but suddenly things made sense - Jorge Bushfires elected on a moral platform - the leader of the moral right - caught canoodling with a chick. This could bring the house down.

NOTE : Samina posting here pls feel free to change, edit.

subroto ... are you great with this or what.

good work, all of you.
can`t stop laughing and enjoying this.

``Col. Imatiaz is ex-Armored Corps, a naval diver and a trained commando who jumps from a flying aeroplane without a parachute for
kicks and as a form of bone-strengthening exercises.``

LOL. :D

Re: Pinkyfield and the achaar

Yes, it was mango achaar, Ahmed`s to be precise (nothing less will do). And perchance it has escaped you that Pinky was actually a flowerchild, raised by a single hippie mother discovering herself, where else, but in India. After she was runover by the welcome wagon, her parents, Pinky`s grandparents, who live a sedate retiree existence in Model Town, Lahore, had to cross over by train to recover her from the stoned brood her mother had the impertinence to leave her with.

Cheers!

``Col. Imatiaz is ex-Armored Corps, a naval diver and a trained commando who jumps from a flying aeroplane without a parachute for
kicks and as a form of bone-strengthening exercises.``

LOL. :D

Re: Pinkyfield and the achaar

Yes, it was mango achaar, Ahmed`s to be precise (nothing less will do). And perchance it has escaped you that Pinky was actually a flowerchild, raised by a single hippie mother discovering herself, where else, but in India. After she was runover by the welcome wagon, her parents, Pinky`s grandparents, who live a sedate retiree existence in Model Town, Lahore, had to cross over by train to recover her from the stoned brood her mother had the impertinence to leave her with.

Cheers!

Tahmed,
re: Col. Imtiaz

Uh...okay :)...(Sadna`s farmaish noted and responded to...)

Pinkyfeld writers,

Please email me so that I can set up a group email and we can start working on this properly. My proposal is that we make our plot decisions as a collective and I`ll serve as editor to just edit. Far be it from me to quash any creativity being engendered by the possibilities here. Subroto, I`m saving your pieces, and hoping you`ll be a more present and opining voice in our plot mapping out. Ansari Sahib, I did get your installation and will respond within the next two days (just finished a paper) and to the writer I contacted-joineth now...Also, Scout and FV, are you in, or what? Lets get some proposals here, jaldi! :)

Ansari #33 I stand corrected, and let it go on record that Pinkyfield was (per Biographer Ansari) raised on ovaltine and achaar in Lahore. Perhaps the learned professor will also shed light on exactly what kind of achar (mango achaar is what I speculate), and on the circumstances whereby Pinkyfield is thought to have hung out at the Taj Mahal when she was growing up.

saminashah #30 Where do I jump in, you ask. I think I see qutie a few threads to this ``Pinkyfield and the Dancing Mullah Affair`` (this is just to suggest a title to this). I can try to take a shot at what I call the One-Eyed Mullah thread, and have him meet up with dashing ex-armyman Colonel Imtiaz whom we last left barrelling down some hilly tracts in order to catch up with the Evil One Eyed Mullah and to give him his comeuppance. So here goes:
Col. Imatiaz is ex-Armored Corps, a naval diver and a trained commando who jumps from a flying aeroplane without a parachute for kicks and as a form of bone-strengthening exercises. He can break a bear`s neck with his bare hands. And yet is tender enough to make a woman go wild with desire by merely acknowledging their presence. The various spy agencies of the world are all his clients. Pinkyfield is the only person on earth who knows how to manipulate this shady character so he does some good in this world despite his ruthless, cynical, character.
(How`s this for fleshing out a character a bit before going further??)

Chowksters
Glad this was finally published by chowk.

Just 2 comments. As far as I can guess, first you write a bestselling novel, THEN it is made into a major motion picture for which you write the screenplay. This reads a bit like the screenplay, and I keep thinking of that woman in Alias instead of paying attention to the storyline:).

Secondly, as a member of ordinary reading public, may I request a `hero`? (maybe I missed him or you misplaced him somewhere)

Subroto,

“If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for all of Paris is a moveable feast.”

LOL, in earnest. :D

Jacque Singh was getting worried as he impatiently paced up and down the lobby. Pinky was taking too long he thought as he glanced up at the giant mural of food done by M.F.Hussain which adorned the lobby. Darn it was half a millimeter out of alignment as he quickly went to fix it, Jacque was a perfectionist.
Born as Jaswinder Pal Singh in Bhatinda, he was a strapping figure over six and a half feet tall with a enormous belly and a fondness for JJ Vallaya kurtas. He had run away from home at the age of fifteen after an argument with his father`s third wife and ended up in Delhi. Tired, lonely and hungry he was picked up by Sethji who gave hime a job at his small restaurant ``Tau Da Dhaba``. Always eager to please Jaswinder`s hard working ethos marked him out from his fellow workers. It was here one day that the cook passed out and the restaurant was full of Hippies clamouring to be served. Jumping into the kitchen he proceeded to make Tinde ka Bharta using his instinct to guide him. The food was a hit and soon the little restaurant became de rigueur with all the hippies who were flocking to India in those days. One popular item was the Bhang ka Achhar which was provided only to the regular customers on special request.
One of those regular customers was a Frenchwomen by the name of Louise, who was totally besotted by the handsome young sikh. As for Jassie it was an amazing experience, the simple Jassie gaiving way to Jacque and when Louise went home to Paris she took Jacque home with her.
Ah Paris, years later Jacque would tell his trainees “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for all of Paris is a moveable feast.”
And a moveable feast it was as Paris`s affair with Jacque`s began here. As a critic wasonce moved to comment about the Tandoori Pheasant that Jacque served ``It (pheasant) is the king of earthly poultry, as the primacy of aquatic birds belongs to the swan. What more exquisite flesh can you eat prepared by the king of chefs - Jacque``.
But those Cold War days demanded more from the immigrants those days and without wanting to Jacque found himself being swept into the tales of intrigues and spy games which dominated Europe then. It was here where he first met Pinky during the daring defection of Dimitri the Russian spymaster. A plot in which his establishment played no small a part, as the spymaster was lured by fusion recipies which Jacque was getting known for all over Europe. From Borcht to Fricassée de Poulet de Bresse au Vinaigre d`Estragon you say.
(To be contd)
(need to sleep and am I the only nutcase who seems to be contributing?)

tahmed sahab,

``per authority ansari, she was raised on ovaltine and chutney in Lahore.``

achaar not chutney; such misappropriations of needless facts are inexcusable; kindly please to be taking care.

Subroto; wicked!

by the way, why is it that all Australians sound like they`re trying to talk underwater?

Pankaj, Pankaj how do I educate u about our proud Roachy past. It all started with the simple slogan of ``Mera Roachistan Mahan``. There is even a basic philosophy of Roachism as once expounded on Chowk. As for the history of Roachistan, it has always been there you just have to ask.
Har Roach ka nara hai
Roachistan humara hai

Roachily yours
Subroach

Subroto

Good work. By the power vested in me by the Great Satan, I nominate you for the post of Vice President unless someone decides to contest. Of course the appointment should be sanctioned by the acting Prez of Roachistan, the Great Roach aka Zafar Al Talib himself. I always believed that Roachistan should have a national anthem or Quami nara of its own :-). Being the Vice Prez it is your responsibility to write one or select one.

Tahmed, Subroto,

Agreed. Subroto, youre productivity is delightful, but we need some time to organise who`s doing what. Subroto-you brought up a some lively ideas in the fusion restaurant-can you focus on the chef Singh for a bit while we all regroup? This restaurant sounds like a lot of fun-maybe you can do a chapter on it...also, please email it to me at saminasha@aol.com so that we DUNT LOOSE ELEMENT OF SURPRIS HERE? :)

Tahmed,
Where would you like to jump in?

saminasha/sobroto: In an attempt to clarify where we are in the story, I ahve summarized the episodes in the article plus subroto`s additions as follows:
Installations 1-3: Agent Pinkyfield [dossier: per authority ansari, she was raised on ovaltine and chutney in Lahore. per authority saminsha she had family pictures before the Taj Mahal. Now NYC based]. Is told to pack her shalwars and saris and head for the Motherland, to help settle an international imbroglio.
Installations 4-7: Agent P(inkyfield) catches up with Mullah Mendacity at the Leather Bar (address provided via snail mail in white envelope to Agent P).
Installation 8: (from Subroto): The one-eyed dweller of the caves (aka Mullah Bin Motorcyclin`) receives mail from the Sheikh (aka Mullah Bin Hidin) via carrier pigeon.
Installation 9: (from Subroto #26): Imtiaz is sent to Roachistan by Agent Pinkyfield (presumably to snag Mullah Bin Hidin).
Installation 10: (from Subroto #27): Agent ZaT sends cryptic message about chappal maro to Agent Pinkyfield.

Time Out: I think the plot has reached a stage of maximum complexity and more complexity would lead to complete confusion. Too many characters already (three mullahs, two ISI-type agents, and assorted nurses, moms, agents whom I have left out in the summary above). Suggest that next Installation (i.e. #11, and by anyone on chowk) start where Installation #10 ends. And no new characters for a while, until we put some flesh on the dozen or so already identified.