Song 39:
The club crooner was the hero's trump card, she aided and abetted him in his various trysts. She flashed upon his consciousness like a bolt of lightning, stupefying him with her one mischievous glance. She was quick on the uptake, matching step for step. Together they were like a hand of three aces, making paces, throwing caution to social graces. Their motive was moolah. Who could have thought of an alliance coolah than this. Fire and ice, sugar and spice, roll of dice, game of cat and mice. There was sure to be lot of thrill and adventure, vendetta and intrigue, moments of mystique, quicksand chases and cuts and grazes. A rollercoaster ride, seek and hide, swim and glide, beating the tide. To what end, that the time would tell. Dazzling booty or being branded Jezebel? Seemed no one really cared as long as the journey was fun. But such Asha songs were as if made for perky Helen, and Rafi backs aptly for a twisted Dev Anand.
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