Over the next few weeks/months, you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact…and for one night only…you can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5]

Ramesh had just finished talking to Raj on the telephone. They had been making plans to meet the following day and put some ideas in motion. What exactly they were going to do was still undecided, but meeting up would be a good start. Ashok was also geared up for the first meeting and indeed had showed a surprising surge of urgency about it all. Surprising because when the three of them had first met at the look-alike contest, he was the one that was least interested.

Unfortunately for Ramesh, he didn’t realise he was being followed. As he stepped out of a café, he was immediately confronted by Sanjay. “Have you done it yet?” asked Sanjay. His manner was forthright and it demanded an answer.

“It takes time you know. It’s not easy to un-dump someone”.

“What’s holding you up? If it’s money, I’ll pay you the same as when I hired you.”
“It’s not the money. I just think that Jas has got over you”.

“In two days. Not likely mate.”

“Well why don’t you do it then? If you’re so convinced that she’ll take you back, you do it”.
“Not until you’ve passed her the message. I need to know”. Sanjay could see that Ramesh was hesitating. “Unless…unless, you’ve got some hidden ideas?”
Ramesh walked a little faster. “Me? Don’t be silly. Besides you don’t think she’d fall for someone who dresses up as a chicken do you?” He was trying to convince himself just as much as Sanjay.

“No. I guess you’re right”.
Ramesh wasn’t sure how to feel about this response. Could Jas fall for someone like him?

Detective Harris hadn’t got much further with his investigation into the robbery at the warehouse. The informants weren’t informing and the only physical evidence they had was a briefcase that had been in the possession of a known local petty thief, Jez. A search of Jez’s property had not thrown any new light on the case, although they had found an interesting collection of wellington boots and an ABBA LP.

Having followed Jez for a few hours, he was quickly beginning to believe that Jez simply didn’t have the intelligence to have engineered four separate raids on the warehouse.

Harris was just about to call it a day, when he saw Jez meet up with Ashok. Of course, he thought to himself. Ashok had also had a few brushes with the law and was altogether more composed and smarter than Jez.

Jez began a heated conversation with Ashok the moment they met and from his body language, Harris could tell that Ashok was embarrassed by the attention that was being drawn to them. The conversation lasted about a minute and at the end, Ashok patted Jez on the shoulder and the two of them walked in different directions. Harris decided not to follow Jez anymore. No, instead he set his sights on Ashok.

Malkit had closed the shop for a few minutes in the afternoon. He was sitting in the back office with Bernie, a West Indian man in his late forties and they were both sipping on whisky. Raj was out gathering more sound equipment for his project.
“So, what do you think?” asked Malkit.

“I don’t understand. Why don’t you just let the boy be?” Bernie’s tone was deep and thoughtful.
“Because he doesn’t understand what the world is like. He thinks he can just break away and become a singer. He doesn’t realise that the world is hard, especially for people like us. Who’s going to notice a skinny Asian teenager on the stage?”

“People need ambition”.
“Ambition, yes. Stupid dreams, no”.

“But what makes you think I would help you”.

“I know you Bernie. When the times were really hard you always knew the short cuts, you always had the connections. All I want is for you to make it difficult for them”.
“You just said that it was difficult enough already. Why do you need me?”

“As insurance.”
“I don’t know. It sounds so…so not right”.

“Come on Bernie. I know you can do it. You wouldn’t have even raised an eyebrow at something like this a few years ago.”

Bernie smiled. The old sparkle returned to his eyes. Malkit could see he was winning Bernie around and poured him another drink. Bernie sipped on it slowly and his lips curled into a sly smile.

Ramesh stood outside Jas’s door and contemplated what he should do. He’d never done this before. During his line of work, he had dumped many, many people on behalf of their disillusioned partners, but he had never then gone back and attempted a reconciliation. He raised his hand to knock at the door and then quickly changed his mind. He couldn’t do this. How could he? He was about to walk away, when the door opened and Jas stood there, looking as if she was going out. She was surprised and yet delighted. This was one thing that Ramesh really liked about her, the fact that she always seemed so pleasant.

“Hey Ramesh…what’s up? You look a little down”.

Ramesh was apprehensive about what he was going to say. “Well…I thought I better come and tell you”.

“What?”
“Well, it’s like this. After I left here last time, I…I…”

“You what? Come on Ramesh”.
Ramesh had intended to say that Sanjay was back on the scene and that he was desperate to get back with Jas. However, when he spoke it came out as, “Well I was thinking maybe you and I could go out some time”.

The moment it came out, he hoped the ground would open up and swallow him. Jas paused for a few seconds and then smiled that smile of hers, one that would put any Bollywood heroine in the shade. “Of course…that would be great”, she replied.
Ramesh suddenly felt fifty feet tall. This wonderful, gorgeous woman had said yes…to him.

Then he remembered. Sanjay. Well he’d tackle that bridge when he came to it, but for the time being he was going to enjoy his moment in the sun.

By the time Raj had returned to the shop, Bernie had left and Malkit was in quite an unusually good mood. Raj didn’t bother to enquire why, he was just glad that his dad was not nagging him about the plan to form a band. While he had been out, Raj had made arrangements for some backing music to be supplied via a friend who worked in the local theatre. He knew however, if this was going to be a serious venture, then the standard of equipment would have to be drastically improved. He couldn’t quite see how they were going to make an impression if their equipment looked like it belonged in the History Museum.

Raj brought out his poetry workbook and mulled over his prose. Malkit walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Son”, he began, “just remember one thing. Whatever I do, I do for both of us”. With that, he went abruptly into the back office. Raj was left a little bewildered and confused. What did his dad mean by that?

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This serial is fictional and any similarity with existing groups or individuals is unintentional.
Ravi Mangat is contactable on: rav38man@yahoo.co.uk