

MBA for the

M afia

Copyright © 2014 by Kunal Sharma.

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

To order additional copies of this book, contact

mafia@fyibulletin.com

www.fyibulletin.com/mafia

# Contents

Acknowledgements 10

A Night for a Hunt 16

The Best Job for an MBA 19

Hit the Ground Running 24

A Whiff of the Alluring 31

Suffering the Grind 34

No Night for Rookies 42

Know Thy Co-Workers 48

IIT and then IIM 54

Papa and the Hot Potato 59

Nakul's Financier 63

As Good as a Replay 68

Pigeonholed 72

With a Little Help from My Friends 75

Bottles and Models 79

The After Party 87

 The First Day of the Rest of Your Life 93

Pencil Nose 97

Playground 108

Friday 115

Night Lovers 122

A Million Dollar Startup 126

The Purist 131

Retrospection 135

The Conference Call 141

Employee Incentive 146

The Planning for the Face Off 150

Blessings 155

A Time to Plant and a Time to Reap 159

A Time to Change 169

Talukdar 175

A New Page 184

Ever After 190

About the Author 199

For Late Shri I.D. Sharma, IFS

#

# Acknowledgements

The only time in my life when I had a Godlike feeling was the moment that I completed the final manuscript of this work. I had just created a universe, set its rules and ordered the inhabitants around. I also decided their fates. Then, after a few minutes of blushing from ear to ear, I realized that I was sweating. I had begun to weep then. For a while, I was being served a cocktail of feelings as I reflected on the many nights that I sat click clacking on my laptop, creating and defining Nakul's world. I wiped my tears and looked around to make sure no one had witnessed this panorama of emotions while the magical moment faded away to give way to all that is real.

Was this book a solo effort? I don't believe so. In many ways, writing this was a journey comprising many a roller coaster ride. The ticket to these rides was expensive. My wife Aditi vouched for the expense in the form of her assistance with freeing up my time in whatever way she could. She was ably assisted by my parents who seized the busiest job of all: taking charge of our toddler, Sannidhya. The effort was further facilitated by others. They held my hand through Nakul's arduous journey. Foremost of all, my brothers Tushar, Aayush, Gaurav and Karan who've been active critics of the plot, the language, my one-time haggardly beard, and basically anything that they presumed to be out of place. My aunts Anju and Shefali, along with my mother, are an example of an airtight friendship that would put the bonds between other famous friendships to shame. The sisterhood was nurtured patiently by my maternal grandmother. I am proud of that. I am also proud of my friends and I would like to take this opportunity to thank some of them: Nishant Katoch, Asif Equbal, Soami Bhatnagar, Meirisiyang, Ayaz Shaikh, Paras Mantri, Kushal Bhammar, Sandeep Banerjee, John Kunning, Maharnav Patir, Prof. A. Shipilov, Hetroy Stephane, Subhrangshu Sarkar, Vaibhav Soparkar, Antonis Pantazopoulos, Sachin Dev, Sushil Singh, Sharad Tiwari, Manoj Poonia, Raghu Ballal, Jose Paiva, Subhajyoti Paul, Vikram Mohan, Karan Jain, Sumeet Chopra, Praveen Ranawat, Anil Kumar Sahu, Orly Dias, Avijit Choubey, Nirmalya Chakraborty, Atanu Rudra, Sid Chhikara and the divas: Debarati, Mousumi, Jomol and Pankaja. This book was possible because of their experiences in life. I would like to express gratitude to Mrs. Durga Rajpal and Mrs. Radha Gaur for contributing the lovely Hindi poem for this work.

I would like to make a mention here of the writers who I've always considered to be the champs of writing: PG Wodehouse, Tom Sharpe and Oscar Wilde.

Lastly, a thought for my pet turtles, Bo and Peep. I lost them due to a mistake on my part. I hope I'll be able to put the learning to good use sometime in the future.

And so dear readers, without further ado, let us dive into Nakul's ambitious new world.

Mother, when night sets in, where does the moon go?

Where indeed go the stars?

And mother, where do all those go whom we love so much?

My child, the moon hides away

So do the stars

But my dear, our loved ones...they remain deep in our hearts

  * Lullaby from Chamba, Himachal.

#

# A Night for a Hunt

"Run!" shouted a heavyset guy, himself dodging people, vendor carts, dogs and potholes and lunging towards anything that resembled a pillar. Nakul tried to pick himself up from the footpath wrapped in banana peels, filth and wastage. He slipped to hit his head against the big metallic BMC bin lying nearby. Aware of the danger lurking in the darkness nearby, he shot up again and sped off down one of the narrow bylanes in Colaba causeway. Meanwhile, voices kept ringing in his ears: "there he is!," "get him!" and he mustered more strength to sprint towards the popular eatery catering to scores of customers even at 3 AM in the morning.

As the eatery came in view, Nakul looked around for Prashar, the guy who had called out to him. He wished Prashar was safe, wherever he was shouting from. For a while, everything seemed quiet, reminiscent of a cold winter night working up a thin blanket of mist to spread over the weary patrons of one of the busiest nightspots of Mumbai.

Then a shriek and chaos reigned once again: "There! Stop!" Nakul jolted to see who it was, then instinctively flung his arm to run in a new direction, away from the commotion. He hit something.

"Ahh!" said a stockish man, as he tried grabbing Nakul around his mid-section and left more of his own sides exposed for another assault. Nakul tightened his fist and let him have it in his mid-riff, then with whatever he had in him, Nakul hurled the large guy outwards on to the concrete pavement. He did not stop to wait for a reaction from the thug and ran off towards the sea.

Nakul positioned himself behind one of the first gigantic rocks that he could outline. This time he waited long enough to make sure he was not being followed anymore. He waited until what seemed to be the first light of the dawn. Just as he felt he would fall asleep any moment, he mustered enough strength to pick himself up and hurry towards the darkness once more. He kept running in the shadows till his legs gave way and he made no effort to save himself from falling in the ditch dug by the waterworks on the side of the road. All this while, he was also thinking of Prashar, his dear friend. As his weary eyes closed slowly, he wished again for Prashar to be safe.

#

# The Best Job for an MBA

3 months ago

"We are a hot potato this part of the World," said Viraj, his eyes beaming. Nakul nodded reverently, just like a monk in a monastery where the head priest was about to reveal their true place in the universe. There was one difference though, between Nakul and the likened monk. The monk would have been driven by a keenness to attain detachment from all worldly things. Nakul's motivations, on the contrary, pertained very much to the material world. In fact, he had been fighting the recurring impulse to estimate the salary that he would be offered any moment now. If Viraj was to offer him a job as an Investment Banker at PanAsia, that is.

The conference room that Nakul had been ushered into was well stocked with books and paraphernalia. The books seemed to be there just to adore the built-in shelves on the wall though. They related to everything that was premium in the business world, thought Nakul as he scanned the titles on the shelf: A successful banker's take on the future of capital markets, a saga of the most celebrated deal ever, another banker's views on emerging markets and how successful navigation of Asian's markets is akin to enticing a beautiful yet cautious young girl.

"I have made it to the final round, all I need now is to put up a face that will have them buy my story of an astoundingly driven individual surviving solely on numbers and raw data," Nakul reckoned.

Earlier in the day, Nakul had met Rohtaj during his second interview. Nakul was impressed with the ex-Wall Street banker sitting confidently in front of him, exuding enough pompousness to unnerve the calmest of candidates. Bankers and surgeons are probably the hardiest lot, considering that they have to accomplish so much in so little time, Nakul had thought.

"Nakul is a freaking strange name," said Rohtaj, smirking good-naturedly.

"Ya, I get that a lot," said Nakul.

Rohtaj had talked a bit about his time at the Street. "When Lehman went down, I had to take a call. I had to be diligent in my next decision. I wanted to come back to India where there is strong traction in deal making underway...So how was IIMB?" Rohtaj asked Nakul. Rohtaj referred to the school consistently ranked in the top three, nationally. Nakul knew that one's school does have a strong bearing on the kind of business networks that they can get access to. From the number of times his MBA from IIMB was being discussed today, Nakul realized that one's pedigree played a big role at the bulkiest of bulge brackets. He was learning a seemingly minute but important lesson in the way the moneymaking machines work. During deal making you are more likely to hear back from a good fund, for example, if they know that they are dealing with someone with clear and established background. Assumedly, the team's worthy credentials lend the requisite credibility to the deal.

"I tried to gather as much as I could in the time I spent there. I took electives in both strategy and finance in anticipation of building up skills that will come in handy in an investment banking role," said Nakul.

After a few questions on bond valuation, Rohtaj said suddenly "Why would one invest in you, what is your alpha?"

Nakul smiled, "I would like to think it is pretty high, if not, I am prepared to put in my best effort to see it rise, that is my goal in the firm."

Nakul had also met Anil Mehta, one of the directors at PanAsia. Mehta had come across a bit shaky, Nakul thought. He had stooped over the table and played with the stationery every now and then. He had discussed stuff covering capital markets, the value of an enterprise and financial statements, topics that Nakul had gone over numerous times when he found time from doodling Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley on any piece of paper he could find. Nakul had to force himself to appear to be impromptu than mechanical in reciting his thoughts. Towards the end of the interview, Mehta said something really cool. He told Nakul that in investment banking, the salary base is not as important as the bonus and PanAsia typically paid 200-300% of the base in a good year. To which Nakul said: "I am sure every year is a great year in a prestigious brand such as yours."

The day was ending at the bank as Nakul was wrapping up the interview with PanAsia's MD and CEO. Viraj had just taken a pause after what seemed forever from telling Nakul how great PanAsia was. When an MD talks of how great his company is, he is either talking to a client or someone he needs to hire.

Nakul heaved a silent sigh of relief even though his neck pained from nodding ever so much today.

A great day, Nakul thought, as he thought of the months of preparation that had led to this moment. As he listened intently, he felt an inherent willingness to let his mind drift towards the salary and the lifestyle that he stood to attain. Neither did he want to think about how little yet he knew about Viraj and PanAsia. As the last round of interview with the CEO progressed, Nakul felt that his preparation had lent him a good deal of confidence. He had practiced his interviews far too many times to reach this state of poised sentience. Whenever he found airtime, he steered the conversation towards topics that he was more familiar with or towards relevant news that he had gone over just before the interview. Nakul mentioned the finer nuances of the overpriced Facebook IPO and talked a bit about the Samsung-Apple debacle, as much as he could remember.

"I have special people covering all of that," blurted Viraj, as if he had a personal fortune riding on the outcome. Nakul winked, partly out of a small bewilderment and then managed a patronizing smile as if in agreement, playing the eager follower once again.

Then, as if Nakul himself scripted the interview, he heard Viraj say, "So, how bad do you want to be an investment banker at PanAsia?"

Nakul smiled as he offloaded a heartfelt response.

#

# Hit the Ground Running

You are to report at 9 AM on Monday at our Nariman Point Office. As discussed, your designation is Senior Associate within our Technology, Media and Telecom practice.

Nakul went through the offer letter and recalled the last conversation he'd had with Viraj about 3 weeks ago. Back then, he had asked if there were any prerequisites from his end, with regards to joining formalities.

Viraj had said, "Hmmmmm....ya, I want you to join in 3 weeks, have to start delivering soon my friend...make that happen, ok? ...and you do have suits...some good suits?"

"Sir, 3 weeks is enough time to have a couple of custom suits stitched."

Finally the wait was over. Nakul was shining for his first day on the job. He walked past some unenthused looking faces, his colleagues. He was seated in the conference room, and was staring at the same books that had drawn an awe from him a few days back. Most of them still looked as though they had never been opened.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting for long," said a very frail looking woman as she entered with a soft gait. Juggi, Nakul's friend who was known more for his street smarts than his soft skills, would have called her "sleek."

"Hi, I am Raima, the HR."

"...And the lone eye candy in the office," thought Nakul.

Nakul couldn't help but observe the extra make up and a clear attempt to add an accent to everything she said while running the employee onboarding drill with Nakul. He stared blankly at Raima while she recited the joining formalities mechanically.

"All HR people, everywhere . . ." thought Nakul as he was handed his laptop and blackberry.

The 'HR' then pointed Nakul to his desk and disappeared.

"Hi, I am Samir," said a smallish, fair looking chap. Nakul saw a smiling face, very different from the other faces he had seen in the office...everyone else had just looked kind of forcibly busy.

"Good to meet you," said Nakul.

"Well, I am going to be here for just a few weeks more but let me know if I can help you in any way," said Samir.

"Thanks! How has it been working here? How many deals have you worked in?" said Nakul before realizing that he'd blurted out too many stupid questions, too soon. His desk was near the printer so Nakul felt lucky that the constant sound of printing filled the awkward pauses in conversations.

"It has been good," said Samir. Something in the way he said it made Nakul uneasy, maybe it was the mechanical matter-of-fact kind of delivery. Nakul thanked him and proceeded to switch on his blackberry.

Next, as a mark of courtesy, Nakul went up to Rohtaj's cabin. Rohtaj had interviewed Nakul, he was the head of the technology, media and telecom practice, and Nakul would be reporting to him.

Rohtaj didn't even look up from his desk, "I'll see you later, something's...just come up.."

"No problem! thanks!" said Nakul.

As he scanned the hall, he observed that everyone just seemed really busy with their laptops. Every once in a while Nakul saw a face reluctantly scanning the newcomer as if to say "Here we go again."

"So this is how bankers are...grim...," thought Nakul, interpreting the uneasy grimaces he witnessed, now and then. About just before lunchtime, 2 serious looking guys went inside the conference room. They looked like they didn't want to be spotted even though that didn't seem to be impossible from the way they dressed. Both of them were in tight jeans and colorful shirts. Obviously, they couldn't elude Nakul's prying eyes. The shorter of the 2 looked as if he was disappointed at something, but then Nakul thought that maybe the scar on his face was causing that expression. The taller guy was also leaner and definitely didn't look like he worked for anyone. At the same time, he didn't look like he had anything to do with the corporate world.

Nakul's phone rang. "So you are a banker, huh?" said Rohtaj. Before Nakul could think of anything, he said again "Come over, need to talk to you about this deal we are on."

After what seemed like a couple of hours during which Rohtaj went on and on about the Taiwanese company that was trying to raise capital to survive in the price competitive Telecom market, Rohtaj said he was going to send Nakul a couple of documents to be read over the weekend.

On his way back home, Nakul had mixed feelings about the day... "do I feel different now that I work at an investment bank?"

The first couple of days at the new job were mostly about finding the way round the office. Nothing much apart from a couple of document reviews and maybe a little research came to Nakul. Rohtaj called him to his cabin once and had asked him to go through a document. By evening, Nakul's phone set off.

"Come over," said Rohtaj.

Nakul had not even entered the meeting room when Rohtaj said "Did you read what I sent you earlier."

"I was on it."

"It should have been done, like, yesterday...I'll call you later. Take your assignments seriously, I can't stress that enough, ok?"

As Nakul eased into his chair, he almost felt the same way like he felt about 15 years ago when Bhandari, his class teacher, had shouted at him for sleeping in class. He had felt particularly bad at that time because Nakul's object of affection was in the audience, he could never forget the reluctant look on her face. Reluctance, though, was what he had witnessed in his colleagues' face at PanAsia too right since the time he had entered the hallowed halls of business. This time he was upset because the incident set him wondering if he truly was deserving of the job. His colleagues were glued to their laptops like they were watching porn. "Bankers take their job really seriously, how much would I need to speed up?" Nakul was bewildered as he thought about this. Nothing else happened during the day except that another VP, Hirani, asked Nakul to read a memorandum and point out any inconsistencies.

The next day, Nakul was a bit apprehensive as he entered office. He was soon to learn that he was going to feel that way almost everyday when he came to work. As he approached his desk, he could hear the phone ring. It was Rohtaj.

"Come here with Prashar."

Prashar was an Associate at the firm. He used to nod his head for everything. Nakul will later find out that the condition, called essential tremor, is caused by stress and the faster the nods, the more stressed they are. Otherwise, Prashar looked like a football defender, and his chipped incisors rather enhanced the burly look on him.

"There is this company that makes materials for semiconductor manufacturers; we need to gain information about semiconductor processes, what is the market like, who can be the buyers..."

"Is this a downstream process..." began Nakul.

"Wait let me finish. We need to make a few slides on the trends as well and make sure you do the comps. I need this in the next few hours."

Prashar turned to go. Nakul followed him.

"Let me take up the market trends, if that's ok with you?" asked Prashar. Nakul thought that apart from Samir, this was the first conversation of sorts with a colleague in his first couple of days of joining.

"Sure, I can write about the processes in the value chain, make about 3 slides, should we catch up after an hour to see where we are?" said Nakul.

After about 2 more hours of work, Nakul thought they had put together a good deck of 7 slides that talked about the operations, the market scenario and the competitors in the semiconductor industry. As they approached Rohtaj's office, Nakul felt Prashar trailing him. Was it because he was an Associate and wanted to let the Senior Associate talk about their combined effort?

"We thought of beginning by talking about..." started Nakul

"Shutup, let me see," said Rohtaj, "This is not good...not the way I meant this to be done. I need you both to go fix it," said Rohtaj, flinging the bunch of papers towards Nakul and Prashar.

Stunned for a second time, Nakul felt that he was having to avoid the glares of his colleagues as he walked to his desk. Prashar didn't seem to be effected a lot by the mental Olympics. In fact, he was looking a little relieved, as if this was kind of what he expected. Nakul thought that Rohtaj was having a terrible week, maybe his dog ran away? Maybe his wife? He just went to his desk and looked out the window at the Nariman Point buildings and the sea.

#

# A Whiff of the Alluring

The next morning, a jingle on Nakul's phone reminded him that he needed to be in early for work. He felt better about the day before. He was a banker, after all, and the stress is reasonable and expected.

"Let's just go with the flow and see where life takes me tomorrow," he thought as he got dressed.

Factoring in the rush hour traffic in Bandra, he better get going. Today he needed to be on the road in 15 minutes, which is doable, his efficiency being one of the few skills he owed to the corporate lifestyle, the "be in office at 9" imposition, that is. Just as he locked his apartment door, he saw Aisha down the walkway. Funny thing is he noticed her trousers first, and how they hug her waist then caress her long winding legs. She gave her trademark glance at Nakul and walked towards the lift. Nakul let her get in the lift first as he executed the drill...tummy in, shoulders out and no staring at the starables. He was already very conscious of his new borne fat, a consequence of all the stress eating he had subject himself to, lately.

"It's been 3 whole months that I've seen her," thought Nakul. Though, he knew that he didn't have to try very hard to be out of her sight, given that he came back at 10 every night these days.

"There's no way she even knows anything about me."

At one of the loser sessions that Nakul sometimes holds with his friends, Juggi had sipped on beer obliged on him by friends and said "Nothing is more desirable to men than pretty young things in high heels with an air about them." Nakul had wondered why, for all of Juggi's intellect, was he still jobless. He might be so out of choice, thought Nakul. Anyways, he had never dared to ask.

Juggi had also mentioned the correlation between the libido of men and their material wealth. Nakul had not bothered to carry out further research on this topic but Aisha did make him feel like he wanted to be driven-he wanted to be known as the guy who makes big money, if that's what it would take to grab her attention. Her long tresses and the way she placed her manicured fingers around her waist completed the formula for his kryptonite.

Nakul stood in the lift with Aisha, and stared at the closing door. He decided to talk to her today, he couldn't vouch for a similar opportunity in future.

"Hi," croaked Nakul, trying to sound sensitive and business-like at the same time.

"Hi," Aisha twitched the corner of her mouth.

"Not too hot for a summer day," said Nakul.

The twitch gave way to a smile as Aisha acknowledged, "I hope it stays that way, I hate heat! I was in Pune last weekend and it's much nicer there."

All right! Nakul wanted to shift to second gear. He said, "So do you belong to Pune, do you go there often?" Oops, Nakul was unsure for a moment, if this came out as a little desperate.

"No, I had gone for a wedding."

As the metallic sliding door opened up thanklessly, the precious little personal time was over. Nakul took half a step back to try and exhibit some chivalry. Aisha walked briskly by as Nakul caught a whiff of her fragrance.

Nakul said "Bye" and Aisha just smiled. The tete-a-tete had excited Nakul, made him feel more alive than he had felt at any time in the past month. As he walked towards the main road, he let his tummy out and gestured for a rickshaw to stop.

#

# Suffering the Grind

Nakul wrote off the first month as a case of newbie getting the surf right on the rough waters of the vast ocean of the money-making business. Typically, the first few days should mostly be themed around settling down in the office. Still, he wasn't exactly feeling elated even after a few days into the second month. Today morning, like a drill, Nakul and Prashar were summoned to Rohtaj's cabin.

"I want you to show charts depicting the microchip sales, give it a look and include some charts, look at the flow, and show this to me in the next couple of hours." Nakul immediately set about to work on the slides. He verified the numbers, industry growth, driving factors, etc. He added a few more charts corresponding to some of the text in the slides. Prashar was simultaneously making sure all formatting was perfect. As they approached Rohtaj's cabin about a couple of hours later, they heard him talking to someone over the phone. Sometime around evening, Nakul's phone rang "Let me have a look tomorrow morning, alright?" said Rohtaj and Nakul saw him leave the office.

Prashar loosened up almost immediately. The nodding faded. There was relief in some other faces around the hall too, especially because some of the other senior management had also left for the day. Nakul turned to Prashar, "So what's the deal with this guy?" and almost felt he shouldn't have forgotten that he was a Senior Associate and sending negative vibes out about his bosses didn't really make for a positive workplace attitude.

"Papa is worse," said Prashar.

"Papa who?"

"Our CEO...and don't get me started on his wife, the 'owner' of us all," said Prashar.

"What? Where did I get myself into," blurted out Nakul.

"Hahaha," Nakul saw one of their other colleagues, Neel, join them.

"Sorry that shouldn't have come out loud," said Nakul as one of the other Associates within earshot, Keshav, shifted his gaze away from the group and to the ceiling. Funny thing to do, thought Nakul as he construed the amicable and round Keshav to be one of the guys who took extra effort to mix with everyone and be part of any conversation. Strangely, Keshav seemed to edge away from them.

Nakul felt he was getting introduced to his colleagues for the first time. Prashar was the heavy guy, his amicable team mate, who acted his normal clumsy self when the top bosses were not around. Nakul felt that he and Prashar had already developed a cordial bond by working under the difficult Rohtaj. Neel was the Associate in Hirani's team who never shied from helping Nakul and Prashar with numbers or graphs whenever they were running short of time, which was, incidentally, quite frequent. Keshav, the Associate in Mehta's team, was a strange one. He perhaps walked around the office the most, as if playing spook to his colleagues. Nakul had still not formed an opinion of him.

Prashar paused for a moment then said "No, you spoke for all of us. These guys hired us as freshers a couple of months back. There have been promises of a more sensitive and warm workplace and better policies and what not but nothings done yet. Rohtaj keeps abusing, Hirani keeps talking stupid, we are still on laptops about a century old and the only ones that seem to get some work done here are the flies who, clearly, are having a field day."

"Worse, no one ever seems to close a deal!" said Neel.

"C'mon, I was told there was this deal that closed in Chennai and the CEO didn't want to disclose . . ." Nakul started, wanting to point out the little information he had manage to gather about PanAsia.

"...Ah and we have learnt the hard way that lies are a good business ethic here, you can lie all you want as long as it makes the company look good...kind of like how they do it in North Korea," said Prashar.

"I see...didn't you find out more about this place before you signed up?"

"They all made sure to dress up and present themselves as a company with a new vision, when they visited the campus. Obviously, the company that was introduced to us was seemingly very professional and on high growth trajectory but in our excitement to get into IB we ignored one small little detail...the company hadn't grown in strength from about 15 employees since it started almost 10 years back."

"I should have thought of it too," said Nakul.

"And you know what? That's typical of front companies," said Neel.

"So you think...hmmm...interesting but kind of hard to buy into..." said Nakul.

"Ok, I am letting you in on something that people normally realize only after a couple of years in this skithole: The underworld is funding this front company to get a piece of the global corporate action..." said Prashar.

"Man, you've had a tough day..." said Nakul.

"Laugh all you want bro, you are going to see someday..." said Prashar, "Anyways, let take a cab before tomorrow comes in early."

Nakul had worked hard over the slides today, since he felt he needed to push himself harder and he wanted to justify his position and absolve himself of any guilt of not doing his part. He didn't think much about the chat with Prashar but he was grateful his colleagues were opening up with him. Soon he'd want to get a few drinks with them.

He got to his apartment before midnight. After lying in bed for an hour, kind of paralyzed, much like the crocs they show on TV who bask under the sun before throttling towards the water and into the safe abode of marshland. Switched on the TV. Some reality show was on. A couple of teenagers were being shouted at for being directionless and egoistical by a guy in his 40s. Another evidence of mindless noise that our world is made up of. It seemed amusing to Nakul though-The bald guy was shouting at a kid less than half his age. Millions were watching this on TV. Nakul could see that it was the bald guy losing battle with sanity, the kid was...well...just a kid. This is what entertainment has got to-enjoying the ridicule belted out to a juvenile. The noise though, helped Nakul escape from his situation.

He decided to call up Talukdar, the college philosopher. They hadn't spoken for years.

"Talukdar, how are you, babaji?"

"Good good...so did you get married yet?" said Talukdar in his patent style, never quite having learnt the wasteful art of small talk.

Talukdar had taken up a job in the DRDO, the defense research wing of the Indian Government, which was quite a surprise for many as he was among the top 5 in the graduating class. He had said that turning down offers from Texas Instruments and Qualcomm was probably the hardest part of his engineering since he wanted to work with the latest in chip making technology. He finally decided to turn the offers down because he was not sure if he would be able to fend off the temptations of staying back in the comfortable environs of the western world. Many a patriot had gone never to come back. They always come back after 20 years with a camera in their hands, shooting videos of the pitiable state that our country is in-the broken walls in college, the potholes, and the wild traffic-cycles, autos and cars alike, fighting to reclaim road space. They then take this evidence back to their newfound friends in the western world and used this to add credibility to the harshness they overcame to be one of them. Talukdar somehow saw all of this nonchalantly, "All amounts to nothing, it is a zero sum game, but let's leave that for another day."

Today Nakul wanted to talk to Talukdar about the whirlpool that he had found himself in. He felt as if he was exaggerating things when he was talking about the first month as a banker. Talukdar assessed his situation thus: "Give this another month or so, you are new to not only the firm but also the industry."

Nakul did feel a tad bit that maybe he had been shitting himself for nothing. Talukdar hadn't taken a second to diagnose the issue. It was still too early to judge the workplace. Nakul was a banker after all...just a handful of batch mates could boast the same status. Nakul decided to work hard this time in his life-he will grab the bull by its horns so to say, give his new job his best shot.

As he put down the phone, Nakul looked at the bald guy on TV-he may have good reasons to shout at the kid after all. The kid should cross his heart and figure out what must be done to deserve a spot among the elite. Nakul was ever determined to run faster in the runway of the career of his choice, "Let me get this sorted, no pain, no gain," he figured.

A couple of days later though, Nakul leaned across his desk with his face in his hands. He didn't feel great about the fact that not only was his work deemed unacceptable repeatedly, it was also frequently incomplete and full of mistakes. Nakul didn't think that things moved forward even a bit in PanAsia. He and Prashar were on some slides for at least a week now and he had carefully examined the slides again and could not find any mistakes. Everyday he worked on the stupid slides and tweaked them here and there, as if they were a sculpture that one of those good Italian guys did. Looked like other teams echoed his dilemma. More and more each day it became clear that Viraj, Mehta, Hirani and Rohtaj were not serious at all about actually getting out there and getting in some business. All they wanted was to play 'office' with their subordinates.

By the following weekend, much had changed about the way Nakul felt about life in general. He was supposed to be happy and proud of being a banker, instead he was lurking in dejection and uncertainty.

"So how is it going, son?" asked Orly, another of Nakul's chum from a previous company. They had planned to catch up over a few drinks near Orls' office. Orly was another guy who, just like Nakul, got the 'yours is a strange name' comment from almost everyone he was introduced to.

"It's great, I am working on certain really important deals," said Nakul, thinking if he could have done anything to avert this topic.

"Great! This is what you always wanted," Orls said, a statement that left Nakul the most in doubt.

"Man, I need to get some rest...but lets catch up next weekend, ok?" said Nakul as got up to leave.

Ordinarily, Orly would have objected to Nakul's premature end to the evening. But they were close friends: Orls had known Nakul for a very long time. He understood that Nakul was not happy with his job and he let him be for the time being. They had joined Stark IT Systems together fresh out of college and Orls had stayed back when Nakul wanted to ride the MBA wave in an attempt to get closer to the good life.

#

# No Night for Rookies

The extent to which you can enjoy the Mumbai nightlife is a direct function of how heavy your wallet is. While this is true for any other city in the world, it is far truer for Mumbai.

The bars and clubs spanning the southern tip of the city are expensive and usher in a high class of clientele, mostly bankers, brokers and lawyers thirsty for a drink and more. The Dome atop the Intercontinental offers a beautiful view of the marine drive and the vagabonds and families that throng the strip. At the Dome, you can get into the rooftop pool with your friends for a price. If you are feel more like a no-frills drinking party then you will be spoilt for choice.

Nakul was arguing with Prashar and Neel about the best venue to spend their money and dole their hearts out to each other and to anyone willing to listen. They were still too poor to get a taste of the action at the Dome. Yet, few minutes later they were inside the lift ascending to the famed rooftop, the Dome.

"Man, we should listen to ourselves for a change," said Prashar.

"Hahaha...we want to come up here all the time just to get a glimpse of the ladies but no luck so far," said Neel, the other Associate.

"Either that or to feel what success may feel like, right?" said Nakul.

They ordered a couple of beers and looked around.

"Blimey, this place is always so freaking dignified, one would feel guilty of thinking about raw sex and stuff, you know," said Neel.

"Another round may change your view," said Nakul as he requested the waiter to come over to their table.

"Yo, check out the Ferraris," said Neel as Nakul and Prashar leaned over the railing to look towards the Marine Drive. Two red Ferraris drove up to the curb in front of the Intercontinental. After a couple of minutes, the three friends saw the glam kid of Bollywood, Vicky baba, with the young, vivacious and upcoming diva, Shruti.

"Yaar paise wasool ho gaye," said Prashar. They were all down a couple of rounds but not drunk enough not to realize that they were just a few steps away from the nation's heartthrobs.

"Dude, I would give half of my bonus to just have a drink with those 2," said Neel, a comment that worked up Prashar and Nakul enough to make them forget their ordeals and micro-analyze this thought.

"I don't think of him as much of an achiever anyways," said Nakul, flicking a finger towards Vicky baba.

"What do you mean, there are millions in this country who worship him," said Prashar.

"What do you think the typical profile of a worshiper is?" asked Nakul.

"Well they are spread across the demographics..."

"...Still, what would be the typical profile of a fan of our Bollywood newcomers, who anyways owe their movies to their parents' connections," said Nakul.

"Hmmm..." thought Prashar.

"...Hmmm is right...a typical fan is a college zombie...the dude who thinks Yo yo Party Singh is our prescription to the cultural trauma that the western world inflicted upon us."

"Anyways, they are famous, they are rich, bro," said Neel for the first time in this debate.

"Coz your average retard who would happily consume his pizza in through the wrong hole just to sleep with the likes of yo 'Freaking Bigger Retard' is, by the way, the richest demographic in our country with the most disposable income," said Nakul, realizing every bit that he had become inappropriately angry on a topic as petty as this.

"Like the rotten spoiled offsprings of lalas and daddy jees...morons who keep supplementing the retarded fan base," said Neel, who could have been one himself though, had it not been for a desire to somehow utilize his mind.

"Papa jees' paan ki dukaan kinda looks like a factory that doles out morons, too!" interjected Prashar harmoniously in a bit that set all of them laughing loudly at the reference to their employer.

"...Well I don't care a damn about being in..." began Neel when a waiter approached them.

"Sir, can I request you all to respect the presence of the other guests please," said the attendant.

Nakul saw Vicky baba looking across the seating area towards their table.

"Ok," said Nakul as the waiter turned away.

"Our laughter probably echoed our sentiment about their 'talent' as artists," said Prashar.

"Hmm, I can see why Shruti is talented though," said Neel.

"Her talent clearly shows, the masses make no effort to conceal the excitement," said Nakul.

"Hahaha yeah, she should dress more appropriately, I agree..." said Prashar.

"What are you talking about? I was referring to her fans," said Nakul.

They laughed heartily this time around as they all stood up to leave. They had drowned a couple of hard rounds and Neel could not help look in the direction of the Bollywood couple once more.

"Man, let us break some ice tonight," said Nakul. Neel and Prashar looked on in disbelief as he approached the Bollywood table. They frisked towards the table too to join Nakul.

"Hey, good to see you here," said Nakul to the actor called Vicky baba. The actor looked more approachable than any of them thought him to be but he clung to his air of aloofness. He didn't seem to look at them directly.

After a second or so, Vicky baba smiled a little and said "Hello" just as the waiter walked towards the table with some champagne in a bucket of ice for the movie stars.

"Ah well, just wanted to say my 2 year old is a big fan...and he likes you too..." said Nakul, now facing Shruti, the Bollywood vixen.

Prashar suddenly came to life and turned towards Shruti, "Yo, my cousin Amrit is a real fan too, I think he slit his wrists for you...!"

"Thanks," said Shruti from Bollywood, trying to understand what was going on.

"Thanks?...," said Prashar. Before he could say anything else, Neel and Nakul quickly led him out towards the lift, away from the celebrity table. Nakul dished out some notes from his pocket and paid the waiter following them. The friends walked away from the staring eyes and as they hurried into the lift, they broke into the loudest laugh of that evening.

"We kind of lost you there, man!" said Neel, turning to Prashar.

"Bhai, if infants are hooked on to Vicky Baba's gyrations to Party Singh...he must be really proud..." laughed Prashar. Even before any one of them could say anything more, they realized that someone in the lift with them was saying something too.

"I am sorry?" said Nakul.

"You don't think he has a future...this Vicky actor?" said a guy with a pencil nose and choppy teeth, dressed in a suit that fitted quite well on his rather bulky frame.

"I don't know, he didn't really have a past as far as I know, at least not with the thinking class," said Nakul as he wondered if the pencil nosed guy had any right to intrude on their evening.

"Oh, so you all are the thinking class," said the guy who, Nakul noticed, had shabby hair and an uncomfortable air around him as if to say he was the boss but he was always to be found in unexpected places...like a lift. Funny...all the things one tends to catch when one is drunk.

"We are products of the grudge factory, we take about 4 years to weld in the engineering sweatshops then for 2 years we are painted with the best fragrant synthetic out there in the MBA shops," said Nakul.

"Eh?" said the pencil nosed intruder.

"I mean, yes, we were part of the grind, we got into the B.Tech race then we switched over to the MBA run and now our cheese has moved on to the investment banking world."

Pencil Nose looked all interested now. Rather, he looked animated at this point: he obviously realized that the talk was about the career race and he loved the good rendition of it. Perhaps he was also someone who'd suffered the herd mentality?

As they headed out of the lift, a tall guy walked up to the Pencil Nose and escorted him out of the hotel while the friends followed. Nakul immediately recognized this person as the taller of the two people that he had seen during his first day at PanAsia...the ones who had come to the office dressed in tight jeans and colorful shirts.

"I like the way you put it," said the Pencil Nose at length, "Well, if you guys hang out here often enough, would be good to catch up sometime."

"Sure," said the friends as they walked past him and crossed the marine drive to chat a bit by the sea before heading home.

#

# Know Thy Co-Workers

In the early days of his second month at PanAsia, Nakul had started spending 13-14 hrs. a day at work in an effort to complete things beforehand, do some groundwork, and anticipate what his boss might want the next day. Nakul was determined to face his challenges passionately. He was invariably the last one to leave office every day. During one of first long days at work when Nakul was the last to leave office, he was taken aback to find that he would have to pull down a garage-shop type of shutter at the main door of the office. In his experience in the corporate world, he never had to shut down a shop in true parlance. He was unsure if this was typical of offices at Nariman Point or if this was an attribute of the stingy Indian promoters, who run business that did not want to invest in access cards, or even ID cards at the minimum.

Today, he was closer to the end of his second month at PanAsia and he was feeling markedly less passionate about his work. For all his hard work, he was still being harassed by Rohtaj. Almost as if his boss had a penchant for showing Nakul down for the smallest of mistakes. After another round of uncalled-for reprimand by Rohtaj, Nakul and Prashar came to the common area to get some coffee.

"Don't take too much tension, this goes on," said Prashar.

Nakul was staring at the floor, he was feeling dejected and he wondered if he should think of anything to say to Prashar.

"Man, I don't know, things anyways don't seem to moving around here, to top that, that son-of-a-midge Rohtaj just has a fetish for shredding off anything we bring to him. Not doing good to my confidence as a....as an employee, you know?" said Nakul.

"Don't worry...he is the problem, not you," reasoned Prashar, "dude, at least 8 people have left this shop because of him."

"Ah, this is good information," Nakul said, halfheartedly. He thought he may have done less to acknowledge Prashar's intention of calming him down so he regretted being unreasonably reactive.

"I know that I ought to cut my new job some slack...give it some time and adjust to the culture here," said Nakul, now looking out to the sea visible from the only window opening to the vast expanse of the nether side of Nariman Point. "For the past few weeks, I have strived to do my best...yet...shit strikes more often than I can handle."

Neel walked in on them in the middle of this grim topic and felt an urge to lighten the moment.

"Don't you ask him for a date now...Dudes, get a room already! Cheer up fellows, we are going to go out again soon and lets have ourselves another Bollywood themed evening!" Neel said. This had the desired effect of cheering up Nakul and Prashar.

"Thanks anyways man, it feels good that there are wayfarers who are suffering in the boat with me, gives a lot of hope too that if we remain a team then tomorrow will perhaps be better," said Nakul. He felt as invigorated as he had felt after the talk with Talukdar the other day. He had developed a cordial chumship with Prashar and Neel after the Bollywood night the other day and was grateful for the brief 'cheer-me-up' bitchings that his new friends felt privy to every now and then.

"Yeah," said Nakul "Let's talk after office." He saw Keshav bending over Reshma's desk. Reshma was a new joinee and no doubt she needed someone to show her around the office. Nakul thought he had been talking to her for the past hour or so. Seemed quite a lot unfair, given that Nakul, Prashar and Neel were smothered with all kinds of nonsensical research, presentations and other grudge work of the sort, so much so that they could not leave work until at least 10 PM everyday.

"Dude, gotto get some work done, too, right?" he said as he walked past Keshav.

Keshav hardly even seemed to acknowledge. Nakul let it go this once. He slumped on his desk and waited for Rohtaj to leave office so that he could also go home. When it was time to go home, Nakul realized that he and Prashar were still the last ones to leave office. Prashar heaved the shutter down and offered to drive Nakul to Churchgate station, from where Nakul could catch the local to Bandra.

"Dude, you've worked at PanAsia longer than any other associate-a total of 7 months!" Nakul said as Prashar was driving.

"Yeah! Quite a feat! Still haven't checked into a mental asylum as yet so good for me!" said Prashar.

Nakul had found it odd at first that no one stay back in PanAsia at least for a couple of years. He recalled Viraj mentioning that people were unable to take the work pressure, girlfriend issues creep in, a business idea suddenly seems achievable. But the reasons were clearer now...sadistic bosses and stunted careers.

"The guy before you left in less than a month," said Prashar.

"No surprise. But why are you still here?" asked Nakul.

"Man, I am too stupid to make it anywhere else."

"No, really."

"I've been applying, but you know I've spent the most time...more than anyone else...in this company?"

"Yes."

"...and Bonus is just round the corner in December, I could really use some money man, I might get married soon."

"Dude, you better...before PanAsia sucks out the remaining smidgeon of manhood in you. Maybe you should snap out of your banker-confidence and get your sperm count tested," retorted Nakul.

"Ya? Ha! That's no worry, the high tide brings a good number of them out into the open ever so often! Haha!" laughed Prashar. He continued, "Also, dude, I haven't had any big deal experience here. That's really bad for the CV. Viraj and others have been avoiding transactions that involve big money. In fact, they haven't closed any deal so far. They keep playing 'office' and keep evading deals and we always find ourselves on the same presentations and documents that we were working on months ago."

"Why doesn't Viraj do something about this company, why is he still keeping the likes of Rohtaj on the pay roll, does he know how much of a team player and a mentor he is?" said Nakul, meaning the pun.

Prashar pulled up towards the left lane as they approached the station.

"Rohtaj is a certified loser. After his MS in the US, he wandered around until some chip manufacturer took him in. He probably got thrown out of there and didn't want to come back to India so got into a business school after which he was riding atop probably the best hiring season for I-Bankers and found himself at Lehman Brothers. Then 2 things happened that shaped his future...Lehman Brothers realized that pursuing a diverse employee base should not be done at the cost of retarding the firm's collective IQ. And second, in one of his assignments, his MD threw a book at him that struck him right at the face."

"Ah poor MD couldn't hold herself back anymore...but how do you know all this?"

"The asshole's boss was Mayur's VP at Hyphen Capital," said Prashar, referring to the Associate who joined PanAsia just last week.

"Rohtaj realized that the MD had probably stepped over certain limits. Soon after he came out of the MD's cabin, he reported the incident to the HR. He just covered his eye with his hand and made a grimaced face. The HR was triggered into a damage control mode with the sole objective of preserving the Lehman identity as an equal opportunity employer. Rohtaj thus bought himself a great severance package and flaunting rights of an exalting experience letter from the holy grail of banking...Lehman Brothers. Not surprisingly though, thanks to his sparse knowledge base, he did not find another job in the US, the only company on the globe that would care to look at him was in Mumbai. For a while before coming here, he was at some small legal shop in the documentation team where he was supposed to cross the t's and dot the i's for 4 years as an ex-banker."

Suddenly clarity set in. Nakul had worked hard the past month and a half. True sense of the word hard. He had gathered his facts from comprehensive base, constructed the presentation with as succinct a flow as possible, double-checked the comps that Prashar gave him and went over the formatting in the end. Still, he was certain that the boss' feedback was not a function of their approach and their effort. Strangely, Nakul thought he could now be more tolerant to the crap meted out to him and his friends at PanAsia. Awareness is truly liberating. The only thing that bugged him was the realization that they were being subject to a cheap replica of the I-Banking culture at Wall Street.

#

# IIT and then IIM

The rupee was falling at a stupendous rate. Indian exporters were happy, they could make hay for a while. For all others, the news bore grim tidings. The stock market declined as foreign institutions realized that their gains were now diminished. The corporate world realized that the impending policy rate cut would now be aborted even though inflation numbers demanded one. Fund raising became more challenging than it already was. Most of all, the job scene relapsed to the pre liberalization era with many of IIM and ISB grads crowding the job market. While there had always been scanty hope for new business at PanAsia, the employee retention rate suddenly looked vastly improved. It was the uncertainty of getting the next job that kept Nakul and others at this firm. If he had the leisure to remember the turn of events that brought him here to PanAsia, he would waste the remainder of the day trying to kick himself.

Nakul first came across a banker when he was still in school. His father's friend, Bhalla uncle, had moved to the UK to pursue Hotel Management. In the first year, half way through the food-processing course, Bhalla uncle had discovered that real money making lay elsewhere. He spoke to his professors, requesting them and talking them into letting him opt out of the hospitality course. He added many financial courses in lieu. Next, he targeted banks that had started coming to the Campus and made some contacts. Bhalla uncle finally got hired as an Analyst at a US based bank in London and then worked his way up right to the MD.

Nakul had thought that he hadn't come across a more successful person, never mind the fact that Bhalla uncle spoke in short, unrelated sentences that rarely made sense even when taken together. When he felt the need to interspace those sentences with a huge gush of air through his mouth, just like a fish, he still sounded convincing. Because of his bohemian kind of appearance and the nonchalant streak in almost everything he said, Nakul thought of him as Shambhu the Shikari, the fictitious hunter who inadvertently always succeeds in killing the man-eater.

"HARPHHH...," said Bhalla uncle, taking in a fresh gush of air, "Screw hotel management. I did not want to be the guy in the background waiting to feed them. I wanted to be served."

"Lucky you, while poor bastards like us were immersed in engineering and medical books, you were having fun back then...our parents used to point at you and tell us 'this is exactly how not to be' ...Hahaha," Nakul's father had said.

"I am still having fun," Shambhu Shikari had remarked, "You know, to grow in life you need to think differently. In India, people who think differently are laughed upon. This sick, sick nation thrives on mediocrity in the guise of playing it safe. This is what has resulted in the herd mentality...and a counter-intuitive one at that! Just imagine the futility of the fact that most IITians shove the supposedly world class engineering studies up their institute's ass and go to IIMs ." From the way he said that, Shambhu had moved towards something that really weighed heavy on his head. Otherwise, for most part of the evening, Shambhu had ranted on and on about his vacations in exotic places and the exclusive invitation only clubs and restaurants in New York and London.

"It's just a mentality of valuing safety too much. You increase your risk averseness to such an extent that the society doesn't do anything new, not even a little bit....." said Dr. Bhid, a common friend who had cancelled his duty at surgery that evening, perhaps for the first time in years, just to meet with his childhood bumchum.

"This safety card is just an excuse for being too lazy...c'mon, if you don't get up and do things different then you will all be the same and you won't react to the changing world and then you will just fade away...and perhaps that is what all Indians want for some goddamn reason." Shambhu was getting a bit peeved off by the doctor's textbook comments.

Nakul had picked his favorite in the fight. The Doctor was the society's mascot...the good beta coming first in class and getting through in AIIMs then settling down with the girl from the same cultural background. Shambhu Shikari was a rebel. He didn't care if others laughed at his back...he was the one who went straight at the man-eater notwithstanding the fact that his gun had no bullets. He would fling his gun at the tiger if he had to. No way could the tiger make a meal out of the good Shikari. And he didn't want to be slowed down in life by getting tied down to someone in marriage. Shambhu was one reckless son of a gun, and Nakul wished every passing moment to be more like him.

"I anyways could never have become a banker here in India. My parents used to coax me into joining those stupid freaking coaching classes for IIT and Medical entrance exams. I vented my anger by spending tuition money on movies, you remember the first bilew fillim we saw," said Shambhu, emphasizing the accent on blue film. After another round of laughter and a few more rounds of the vilaayati slow poison that the banker had brought especially for his bosom pals, they called it a night. The bachha party, of which Nakul was then a member of, were rounded up by their moms and shoved into cars as goodbyes were exchanged.

It's been ages since that day, Nakul thought, and he still didn't think banking was any different from the fictitious Shambhu Shikari's approach to a life of hunting. Amazing how he drew the parallel back then with the banker from London. Just a year ago when he graduated from one of best business schools in the nation, Nakul had set a simple criteria for the perfect job. He wanted to be a part of something lucrative and glamorous. No profession other than investment banking came close to achieving this. An M&A banker is the blue-eyed boy of the business world and every business graduate's dream. Once you get there, you are a certified success story. It's a validation to society that your parent's sacrifices and investments in the form of coaching classes and assisted trips to the examination centers across the nation was not in vain. Being a banker was akin to being in the final level of a video game that you'd been fanatically playing for years, an affirmation that you had successfully navigated to the pinnacle of that hallowed set of expectations that the society had constituted.

#

# Papa and the Hot Potato

Nakul knew what he needed to say to Viraj, the CEO, as he entered the office today. He would spit his grief in the most constructive way that he can and hopefully Viraj would have a sensible point of view to share with Nakul. PanAsia had diligently hired from the best B-Schools in the country but there were rumors lately that some of the selected candidates had not joined PanAsia. This was unprecedented in the industry. The operating model of the firm was under threat. Still, Viraj was aware that there would always be a flourishing supply of IIMs and ISB grads wanting to be investment bankers. In their zeal of becoming bankers, they might not even want to check up on this small enterprising boutique. A couple of weeks after joining the firm, when they do realize what they have jumped into, they would probably not mind hanging around a couple of months for a deal on their resumes which, for some reason, always proved to be elusive to this firm.

As he made his way to Viraj's room, he walked past Mona, Viraj's wife and 'owner' of a third of PanAsia. She came across as a genetic cross between an over-frenzied terrier and your everyday Auntiji. She was the self-proclaimed head of HR and Business Development at PanAsia. She usually was seen in office just on Fridays holding on dearly to a MacBook and looking busy. On other days, she was busy portraying the perks of owning a Ponzi business, driving around the city in her Audi. Didn't matter if she did not understand anything about the business. She seemed unfazed by the fact that the average time spent by an employee in her firm was just a couple of months. She was aware of the fact that there will always be a healthy supply of B-School grads aspiring for an investment banking career. Except for Raima, the HR girl who doubled as Mona's personal assistant, no one in the business fraternity and no one even in Nariman Point knew Mona. In direct contrast, being in the limelight was second nature to Viraj and even though he was far from being perceived as a banker, by virtue of his frequent travelling and meetings, he had built good inroads into the investing fraternity across South East Asia.

"Gifts and girls," said Viraj, as soon as Nakul entered his office.

Nakul looked on bemused, trying to hide his confusion.

"Viraj, very nice to see you today," said Nakul, thinking how artificial he sounded when he said that.

Viraj was overweight. He looked like a resolute bully who was trying to recreate his image as a likeable halwayee. He had hanging cheeks, reminiscent of a bulldog. He spoke with a slur as if he would sleep off any moment and always made sure to flash his iPhone 5 in front of the Analysts. Once, while still in his home, he had dialed in to a conference call with a client from Singapore and Nakul was moderating the meeting. Nakul had politely asked who had joined. After a moment of silence, Viraj had said in a husky, somewhat feminine voice: 'Papa'. This was his attempt to be funny and to break the ice. He had cultivated bland ignorance of any business etiquette whatsoever. The client had diluted participation in the meetings since then and had eventually shied off from considering any business at any level with PanAsia. Thereafter, Viraj began being referred to as 'Papa' whenever Nakul and his colleagues met for a small talk.

"Neel, very bad, you replied to my mail only at 9 in the morning," Nakul noticed Neel was seated across the hall from Viraj.

"Sir, I was sleeping after a late Saturday night"

"Whose boyfriend have you stolen that you were sleeping with?"

Neel shrugged, "no one, sir."

"I didn't sleep till I was VP!" said Viraj after pausing for a second.

Nakul flinched and tried to make context of the ongoing discussion. Today, he wanted to talk to Viraj about the possibility of working for a different VP, other than Rohtaj. However, when he went in, he felt like being a part of a schoolboy banter about girlfriends and parties and he didn't want to sound like he spoiled the party. Nakul would not get the opportunity to discuss his issues anytime soon too because, bad enough, Viraj was leaving for Singapore tomorrow.

Nakul instead turned to plan B and started talking about a deal that was crying to get done. This was a megadeal so viable that you had to be blind not to see how much of an excellent opportunity for PanAsia it was. Even after a couple of months since the company, called NewAge, had hired PanAsia as an advisor, Rohtaj was still sitting on its documents.

"Investors are waiting to lap up NewAge...," said Nakul.

"Yes," said Papa, "Investors are salivating, I told them last week what a hot potato this was, lying in some corner of Bangalore, we just have to scan the best suitor for this company."

For a while, Neel and Nakul thought of Papa's armory of deceit cleverly disguised as a leadership attribute wielded by an able CEO. Take them, for example. Both had been promised 3-4 month period of training and Singapore relocation post this training yet here they were sitting with Papa, according him every bit the respect one would to a boss and CEO. A couple of employees truly thought of Viraj as a good guy. Keshav was one of them. Nakul though Viraj was probably the best example of PR: a paan waala disguised as a go-doer and a connoisseur of who's who in the world of banking in Nariman Point.

"If I sell this baby then I need to give you a 200% this year," Viraj said menacingly. There was definitely a glint in his eye that told Nakul that Viraj hated him for going down this lane. Both knew the story of the bonus carrot. Both knew that it was a myth, especially here in PanAsia. At other banks, bonus mattered the most to I-bankers. The value and the volume of deals you close during a year in turn drives the bonus. For a small boutique like PanAsia, closing even a single deal would result in a bonanza with most of the deal income distributed to the team.

Nakul's meeting with Viraj was interrupted by a phone call. Viraj gestured him and Neel to leave his office. After a couple of minutes, Viraj was seen leaving the office-briefcase, iPhone, cufflinks, and all. With him left Nakul's hope of having a constructive discussion about the workplace health.

"I'll have to wait a couple of days till he is back," Nakul consoled himself.

#

# Nakul's Financier

India is sprouting entrepreneurs in tens of thousands every month. Every once a while a corporate employee develops an intense dislike for his boss and his 9 to 5 grind. Everyone has an idea these days, a service that will be availed by a certain segment of people; say, a product that will find use in kitchens. Even an exotic restaurant, given that everyone seems to be experimenting with their palates these days. A small proportion of those ideas is executed in the right way, with lots of hard work to boot. A millionaire is suddenly created; out of sheer ingenuity and smart work.

Enter Papa. Guys running high growth businesses make good money. Viraj was in the business of reeling their wallets in. Papa, with his ammunition of conviction-filled promises, will really have the entrepreneur worshipping him in no time, in hopes that Papa will show him a new world of possibilities leading to infinite growth. In addition, of course the entrepreneur wouldn't think twice about paying a "retention fee" to retain PanAsia as an adviser.

Because of PanAsia's knack for shying away from doing real business, Nakul knew that the firm earned almost all of its revenue in retainer fee. Had this been a normal firm, they wouldn't have wanted to avoid closing deals to earn transaction-based revenue, which was a lot more. Nakul was pondering over the company's business model when his phone rang. His father was trying to get a hold of him. Apparently, he hadn't called his parents over the last weekend.

Same old drill.

"Son, you have forgotten us. What is this Banking business that's keeping you so busy about anyways? Is it some fancy way of making money that they are making you work so hard? I didn't think uncle Ahuja was making so much money," Nakul's father said. He was talking about the cashier friend of his who worked at a bank branch nearer to home and who was dutifully home by 6 PM everyday, in part due to his acute fear psychosis of adhering to the strict tenements of his wife.

"That's because he is not. We are in entirely different business. Banking is not just about holding savings accounts, this is somewhat ... different."

"How...different like what?" You haven't even told us what this investment banking is," remarked Nakul's father.

"A small bank like mine is considered a Boutique. These Boutiques make money by taking a percentage of the transaction value. For example, if a client achieved a valuation of $100 million in the market and a binding agreement was signed, the Banker would immediately make anything between $1 million to $5 million. Some firms charge a retainer from the clients as well, which is a fee that a company would pay to retain a Banker. My company takes in only the retainer; it has never closed a deal yet."

"Hmm..." said Nakul's father, oblivious to what Nakul had just said but keen on continuing the conversation. He tried to build on a few words he just heard.

"Clients huh? Who are your clients?" said Nakul's father.

"Clients are businesses that are 'ready' for some sort of financial event, be it debt restructuring or a dire need for capital to grow their business. Boutiques like ours relentlessly pursue these companies. The pitch stage is where qualifications and credentials come in handy. These are fancy words for numerous slides that are handed over to the company boasting about the firm's history of closing similar deals in the past. When a company buys into their story, a mandate is signed. This document lists out the fee structure and the transaction process that will be followed. A few weeks later, the banker will prepare all of the necessary documents including the information memorandum and the financial model of the company and start approaching investors with a teaser. The teaser, as the name suggests, is an advertisement for the company, without naming the company. If the market finds out that it is up for sale, it will do no good to the business. Everything is very hush until the prospective buyer signs the non-disclosure, post which they receive all the documents detailing the business model, finances, strategy, and of course the name of the company. If all goes well, and if God smiles on the banker, the investor will sign a binding agreement and move towards the due diligence of the company. The transaction will close in due time and the banker gets the transaction fee," explained Nakul, amazed at his capacity to narrate. He knew that his father had lost him right when he started talking about his business but he carried on, nevertheless, as he felt the need to go over the business model for his own benefit as well. He smiled when he thought how confused his father must be now.

"Ok, ok...I get it, you must have to move things pretty fast then...to get your clients the money they need to grow..." interjected Nakul's father.

Nakul was surprised at his father's quick derivation of the nature of the industry.

"Yes, that's quite right," agreed Nakul.

"So you don't really create anything that can be sold...you guys are just...brokers?" observed his father.

"Yes! Brokers with expensive suits! But we bring suitable businesses together...one may have a stronger sales setup, a product, intellectual property or a better operational setup that the other can utilize....that may help the other in some sort of way, the synergies between the two will be unlocked and that's how we create value. By finding the best match...kind of finding a suitable bride or a groom," Nakul suddenly repented bringing up the analogy. What followed was a definitive change in topic. Apparently, in his zeal to be a banker, he had sidelined an equally important part of one's life. His father betrayed no qualms about diving deep into the topic of his marriage. Nakul was subject to theories, examples, threats...anything that would elucidate a satisfactory response from him. However, marriage did not figure in Nakul's list of things to do. His focus was to somehow navigate through the ocean that he had just jumped into while trying his best not to drown.

#

# As Good as a Replay

A week later, Nakul saw Viraj come in to office early and, sensing opportunity, knocked on his door and wished him.

"Good to have you back, sir" said Nakul.

"Aao, aur batao kya chal raha hai" said Viraj.

"How was your trip to Singapore?" queried Nakul.

"All too good. I met my good friend Abhiyudya," said Viraj, mentioning the rising star of business in Asia, "and he told me something I already knew. He said 'Viraj, business is moving away from India.' I said, 'Dude, do you think I was in some sort of jail? Or was I on a lecherous trip to Thailand with your secretary?' See, you've gotto have the balls....gote hone chahiye...to be the guy that I am."

"Hahaha" chuckled Nakul.

Everytime any of his employees met him, Viraj doled out one unbelievable story after another. It seemed that in his world, he contributed a good whole number to the nation's GDP. He was connected to all the right people and businesses everywhere were seemingly talking to him. Yet, Nakul couldn't help but refuse to buy Viraj's banter, never mind his unrelenting way of saying all this.

"Batao, I have a meeting with this Japani person-he has been trying to get into India for the past 5 years, he says to me 'Viraj tell me, with all my billions, why is India still elusive?' and I said '..because you didn't see the lighthouse called Viraj, you idiot'..." said the pompous Papa.

"Viraj, sorry to interrupt you...your insights are great but wanted to ask you if we can take the NewAge mandate further, I think there are some interesting buyers out there for this company. We do stand to make a good amount in transaction fee as well...," said Nakul, hoping to build the conversation on the NewAge deal and then, if all goes well, planning to mention his dilemma of working under Rohtaj.

Viraj didn't nudge from his seat. He looked like a fat school boy in a laboratory viva that was not going well. He wanted to change the pace of the conversation a bit.

"Nakul see, there are couple other opportunities that I don't want us to forego...I want us to get on their case. But your point is well taken and I have better sense of timing than you. You were still in liquid form when I was wearing a uniform, right? Hahaha.." Papa ranted on, "I am already thinking of the next step we'll take to bring this...the mandate...to closure...details later, ok?"

Nakul got the cue and got up to leave, thinking if he had learnt anything in the past 2 months that he had been working with here...except to act as a banker, keep up with the torments and whims of the bosses.

Anyways, he had done his bit. Nakul wondered though, why this time Viraj's assurance did not feel as good as when he offered him the role. Nakul decided to anyways slug it for a few weeks more, then if things still did not change; he decided, staunchly this time, that he will be out of this place irrespective of whether or not he has a job at hand. Nakul felt like the haze in his life was finally giving way to clearer sights and that he was probably in control of his life, after all.

Prashar accompanied him down the hallway soon after the big bosses had left for the day.

"Man, gotto give it to you, you practically asked the man to sacrifice his hen that lays golden eggs," said Prashar, once they were in the coffee room.

"Golden Eggs?" asked Nakul.

"How else does he pile in more clients? He shows them the contract he signed with NewAge," said Prashar.

"Dude, this contract is of what use if we don't deliver? NewAge is just sitting there and we aren't doing anything to bring them closer to the investors," said Nakul.

"Nakul, PanAsia thrives on small deals, they can't risk closing a deal as big as NewAge. If NewAge happens, they will come directly under the eagle eyes of the law. We don't want that. We are a front company, remember? The underworld wants Viraj to give them just enough without any trouble. Viraj is using big fish like the contract with NewAge, just to get smaller fish. Smaller fish will swim safely past the legal submarine," said Prashar.

"He will never close NewAge, just like his other deals...we will never have a tick on our CVs...bankers without a closed transaction, do you know how much of a taboo that is in the IB world? How much business have we won lately?"

"Maybe 2-3 really small deals in the past quarter..."

"...Keeping market factors constant, word has probably gotten around that we are nothing but worthless piece of works who do nothing but sign lame contracts and then play 'office' from 9 in the morning to 10 at night. No wonder those ISB graduates refused working here. I cannot remember anyone in the past turning down an investment-banking offer. Repute goes around and this business is so dependent on repute. Nariman Point laps up bad news faster than a forest on fire. Soon, our CV's with PanAsia written right at the very top would be worthless. Add to that the kudos this lends to our confidence...the fact that we work under the likes of Mona and Rohtaj, their sadisms and whims...," said Nakul.

"I for sure...I am done working under that Rohtaj...the Satku," said Prashar, mentioning the epithet that Rohtaj had earned because of his random tantrums.

"Satku! Ha! Let's list this down as the achievement for today, we've finally christened our tormentor!" said Nakul.

"Anyways...all this...that's a lot of food for thought, can I save it for later? I can't wait to hit the sack," said Prashar hastily as he realized that Nakul was zoning out too. The friends called it a day and parted ways.

#

# Pigeonholed

Nakul always comes back to a dark apartment. He reaches his flat after 10 and there's usually no one to put the lights on for him. He orders in and sits through the next hour or two flipping channels on TV. When things get lonely, he chats up a few friends over the phone. He just can't bring himself to social networking sites yet. Maybe those are for people who know their place in society and revel in it. Occasionally, he gets a phone call from his parents who get down to a no holds barred rap expressing their anguish over the apathy he had lent to the institution of marriage. Invariably, his parents hang up making him feel like your everyday under-achiever.

Tonight was no different. Nakul had just got off the phone with his parents and he felt like a loser.

"I don't think I need a phone call from home to remind me of that," thought Nakul.

He did a good job of letting the TV distract him until the time he was ready for bed. Most times, he is lucky to doze off before he lets his thoughts stray backwards in time. At other times, just like today, he is not so lucky and stays up a couple of hours in bed thinking, wishing and regretting.

Tonight he gazed at the ceiling fan for at least an hour. The crocs on TV do that, be still for hours, that is. He was looking up the fan that was swish swashing slowly, blades cutting the crisp a/c air. He knew he didn't want the fan but it was on and it was whispering:

You followed a success blueprint

With a perfect CV and wondrous job stint

Lived solely for more money to mint

Of happiness, though, there is not a hint

Nakul finds himself in a dark alley somewhere in Cuff Parade, Mumbai. He somehow knows he is dreaming and thinks, "I wouldn't mind giving in to ignorance knowing that sunshine is just a curtain pull away." Suddenly, a strong feeling of being permanently in a dark cell, a nether land for people who have practiced their inclination for misadventures. It is in fact an old, dilapidated mall. The people he can sight don't mind staring back at him.

"They need to feel appreciated for living within the confines of the unspoken norms," thinks Nakul.

He is suddenly in a temple. The mast atop the tallest part of the holy house is fluttering a flag in the gentle breeze, taking away all the emotional toxins exuded by the worshippers. Nakul looks up at the deity and the weightiness of all his problems makes him teary eyed and he can't see. A sense of dejectedness starts creeping in, which is good, considering that he hadn't had any feelings in a long time. He gets tapped in the shoulder by someone who is next in line and he arches his neck, a tad too quickly-it hurt.

Nakul wakes up in the middle of the night. His neck hurts and he is very thirsty.

#

#  With a Little Help from My Friends

Nakul had to make a call to Talukdar the next morning after the emotionally wrought assault from his subconscious, to rinse off some of the self-deprecating overhanging. When he rang up his college friend and philosopher, he caught him with his dinner.

"Looks like this job is driving you nostalgic about your college days..." Talukdar observed.

"Look man, its okay if you don't want me to disturb you," said Nakul, before Talukdar even completed his sentence.

"Hey I didn't mean I don't like missing my college days!" Laughed Talukdar, realizing that the tough job was taking its toll on Nakul.

"I have decided to quit," declared Nakul.

"And do what? It's not the greatest of times to be out there in the job market," asked Talukdar.

"Nothing, just take a bike to the hills or something"

"Dude, this isn't Argentina and you aren't exactly Che Guevara"

"No but I freaking hate everything about my life right now"

"Hmmm. Let's break down your issue into sub points, what is troubling you?"

"I signed up with the wrong firm. My career's going to be on a standstill and to top that, the guys I work for are absolute shitheads...I hate that retard Rohtaj shouting at me...and for what? And don't even get me started on Mona and others...Plus, I am in a bit of a dilemma when I think of the fact that no one gives a damn about getting a deal closed, they are just earning retainers...almost as if they're afraid of closing deals...I can't sleep, and....there's no one in my life..," said Nakul.

"Woah man, slow down, I thought you had a magnanimous CEO?" said Talukdar.

"Papa is one hell of a sugar coater. Think of how he magically gets all these clients even though he hasn't closed any deal yet. And he has perfected the drill to work like clockwork. Everytime the client gets stunned by Papa's bouncers, he finds opportunity to quickly interject and talk about his team's pedigree of premium MBAs...and by the time they sign the Mandate, it's too late to realize that the team has already churned," said Nakul who felt he was now long enough in the firm to know how the wheels turned.

"Hmm so your workplace is resulting in a good amount of grief, as long as your love life, I can't say much since if you had a girlfriend, she would have felt terribly deprived of your time," said Talukdar.

"Yea, so it's a good thing I don't have a girlfriend," said Nakul.

"Honestly, if you aren't exaggerating about your boss Rohtaj, he really is a retard," said Talukdar.

"I am telling you man, that's how he is, and Viraj totally backs him,"

"To me it seems the only thing left to do would be look for a different job"

Nakul felt relieved. He had wanted this validation of his thoughts and conviction regarding PanAsia from someone very capable. Last time he checked, he could think of no one who came close to being as capable as Talukdar.

The next day, Nakul said to Prashar as they entered the office together: "It makes more sense everyday to go work with some college pass out with a crazy startup idea."

"Yeah, I was going through an interview on Mint this morning about this guy..." Prashar shuffled through the pages on the paper and read from an article about someone who was running a school for the handicapped, "To him, the joy of diving deep in compassion for the helpless compensates for the corporate experience, stress and all."

Nakul planned to speak with Viraj and quit. Soon.

#

# Bottles and Models

"All things pass" was not a dictum followed at PanAsia where almost everything remained unchanged except Papa's whims.

Nakul wasn't feeling even a bit funny as he got off the taxi this morning and murmured 'paan ki dukaan', the small anthem they had composed for PanAsia, in a bid to alleviate some of the morning stress.

As he had entered the office, Nakul was aware of the familiar feeling he'd been accustomed to these days. He thought of the Indonesian Chef he had met in his layover at Dubai when he was flying to India from the US about 2 years ago. The Chef used to travel once in 2 years to see his family back home and to give them his savings from the self-imposed exile. "Every time I go back, my children have grown and they swarm around me, it's the best feeling in the world."

"Why do you do this...I mean, you are missing out on your children...your family life," Nakul had asked.

"For money," the Chef had said casually.

Cut to this morning. Nakul snapped out of his thoughts as he heard Rohtaj demand, "Why in hell are you late again?"

"...And good morning to you," thought Nakul.

The day was interspaced with abuses, printer noises and more abuses. Nakul thought of all the junk he had been consuming too-the need for food to drive away the stress-and he looked at the belly fat that he'd been nurturing lately, something he hadn't quite expected to be a byproduct of being a banker.

"For money" seemed to be the mantra that brought Nakul to this moment in which he felt irritable and dejected. Almost as if to baritone Nakul's sentiment, the phone rang and Rohtaj gushed out another discourse on how inept Nakul was at his job.

There was one high point in his job though. He had learnt of businesses created from scratch that were being lapped up by the Microsofts and Apples of the world. He was discovering the stuff that was running the world's best corporations. NewAge, for example. They made these apps for retailers to manage their inventory in a better way and were already running positive cash flows in their second year and profitability was just around the corner with a good traction in sales. Great, credible line of business, thought Nakul as he walked towards the coffee hall.

"Papa doesn't care about Rohtaj's attitude," Prashar had remarked later in the day as they came out of Rohtaj's office after yet another bout of abuses and unreal deadlines. Neel walked over to Nakul's desk as well. The trio discussed the work that they were currently on.

"Let's get some coffee," said Neel as they saw Rohtaj finally leaving for the day. "Today's Friday, we typically do much more on Fridays, remember?" he said. Neel also is usually the MC for Friday nights. He likes a little fight in his friends before he declares the plan for the evening.

"Dude, I don't know, right now it just looks like we'll grow old working on the stupid iterations that this Satku puts us through," complained Prashar.

"Man I am getting tired of having to wean people from their laptops when we should be partying," said Neel.

Nakul tried to take some heat off Prashar "Man, you've got Doggie as your master...you've inherited an easy life mate, trust me," he said, referring to Neel's VP, Mehta, who incidentally was just stepping out of office too.

All 3 looked pensively in Mehta's direction. Mehta had been nicknamed Doggie given his unrelenting fidelity towards Papa. Most people develop an acute sense of smell when they lose their eyesight. Doggie screwed up his eyesight on computer screens purposely to attain a pooch's smell for money. It was said that he could correctly predict any change in forex rates hours before any related news flashed on Bloomberg screens. Neel swore that Doggie loved to hang out at the paan waala because all that smell of money changing hands gave him a hard on.

Nakul eventually said, "Let's get started in 30 minutes. I've got to send that Thukral group write-up before end of day today."

Neel remarked, "Ya enjoy tap dancing your fingers on the keyboard, we've got a long night ahead and I am going to sleep at my desk till you are done."

An hour later Nakul, Neel and Prashar were waving for a taxi.

As Nakul started walking down the stairs, he was ruminating the realization that everything had become so much a part of routine, even something supposedly as fun as going out and hanging with friends! "Things would probably get worse from here," thought Nakul as he remembered how his predictions, especially the bad ones, were all coming true these days.

"Boys, shall we take the evening to Geoffrey's?" asked Nakul, referring to a bar that was considered to be fairly high-end.

"Let's not end the party yet," requested Prashar, as the upscale club would probably be too expensive and too boring for them to justify the gift of Friday.

"Hmm think HQ or Leos is still open," said Neel.

In the taxi, on the way to Colaba, they talked about everything that was wrong with the world.

"Man, come to think of it, even as we cross new levels in innovation, governance and knowledge, our life just freaking goes on getting more complicated," said Neel.

"Ya, my mobile phone is my biggest enemy yet I have to stick to it," said Nakul, as he thought of all the times that Rohtaj had called him on his phone in the middle of the night just to have him send a note out or forward a mail.

"Strangely though, we are responsible for everything that's happening to us," said Prashar.

"Nothing has happened to us yet this evening," winked Neel as he spotted a group of pretty young things in skirts just cross the road in front of them.

About an hour later, all 3 were already visibly drunk as they came out of the bar.

"No freaking Mumbai traffic at least at this hour..," thought Nakul as he hauled a taxi to head home.

Suddenly he spotted Pencil Nose, the intruder who the trio had come across at the Dome about a month back. He was once again with the elusive office boys who had come to the PanAsia office the other day. Nakul had almost forgotten about the Pencil Nose, the person who had wanted to know more about Nakul and his friends.

"Say, how are you?" said Pencil Nose, who always seemed to be followed by the 2 assistants a couple of feet behind him. The assistants looked less like bouncers and more like spoilsports-as if they were the local police keeping a check on the levels of bonhomie among the partying crowds. Nakul was confused as to why they'd come to the PanAsia office the other day, but he let the thought go.

"Hey I am ok," said Nakul, looking at the guy intently, "hope you've been doing good." Nakul wondered if Sherlock Holmes could have derived anything about this man by looking at his clothes or demeanor. He was in a suit, the coat could not possibly be buttoned since Pencil Nose was too fat, Nakul thought. Did his desire to dress in suits result from a longing to be part of the corporate world? Was he some sort of a bar owner who dressed to impress his clientele?

"I am doing good, as a matter of fact, I had been thinking about your interaction with the Bollywood kins the other day, you are quite right, looks like the market supports your view, the audience wants more substance that a hairdo on a caricature," chuckled Pencil Nose, at length.

Nakul couldn't care less about his opinion but tonight he was feeling different, especially in light of the fact that he would quit PanAsia very soon. Though, by leaving the firm, he would have to give up on his dream to be a steamy rich, Nakul was consoled by the fact that by leaving he would preserve his dignity or what little was left of it. Perhaps Pencil Nose had a bar somewhere and if Nakul befriended him, he could get some beer on the house.

"I think the audience is smarting up," said Nakul. "They wouldn't mind some credibility in the story. They want to stop being able to predict the story. If you have a simple setting for the movie as your canvas, splash some bright colors here and there and if you are making a flashy movie, I guess you'd be better off by contrasting the flamboyant settings with patches of simplicity."

"Would you mind having a drink with me? I do have friends who produce movies; I want to be able to sound stimulating to them when I meet them next!" said Pencil Nose, obviously interested in Nakul's thought.

Nakul looked around for Prashar and Neel...they were chatting up a group of girls. They would just end up buying them all drinks and then be shooed away.

"Sure," said Nakul, feeling the need to boast a bit, "for me, the exciting part of being in any industry is the fast paced nature of businesses. I work at an Advisory after all, naturally, I have to know all details of my sector, which covers media, you see, I am part of the Tech, Media and Telecom practice."

"That's great," said the Pencil Nose. "I am Raju, by the way." Funny name for a guy with a cool suit or with a choppy set of teeth and a pencil nose, thought Nakul. Raju ordered a round of beer for Nakul and himself and his 2 accomplices.

"I am Nakul," said Nakul.

"That's a ... very different name," said Raju, the Pencil Nose.

Nakul shrugged.

"Hmm," said Raju, sensing the discomfort and pulling away to a more apt topic, "the relentless pursuit of accuracy in numbers and the ability to process that information relatively fast is the reason you bankers stand venerated amongst the MBA fraternity. You are the high priests of the moolah making faith!"

"I think the hype is overbearing at times," Nakul explained, "good bankers earn their exalted status by analyzing the client's business and the relevant market and working on the key perceptions about the company to spin facts and to send out signals that will boost the valuation of their client."

Raju the Pencil Nose was all ears. Nakul thought that Raju didn't know what good to do with his time. He continued, "There are really smart guys in the industry. They know the latest financial figures as per the regulatory filings of prominent companies, their strategic plans and the top people at the helm of these businesses. More often than not, the banker with a better network will win more deals. So, I am just a small fish and obviously I have a long way to swim!"

Nakul felt like he was ranting on and on and Raju was responding all the time with either silence or nods.

Raju the Pencil Nose finally felt the need to come back to his comfort zone. He said, "You know the way you feel about Bollywood, we are just keeping up with what's happening at Hollywood, you don't seem to think they are any better...these folks at Hollywood?"

"They are less pretentious...looks like they are definitely more original...that's a prerequisite for any kind of creativity, don't you think?" said Nakul.

Nakul was beginning to wish he could escape from there; he was so damned bored and drunk. An air of mysteriousness that still shrouded Pencil Nose somehow captivated him. Moreover, he could see that the guy was almost his father's age but was actually taking a genuine interest in Nakul's opinions.

After another long pause, Raju, a.k.a. the Pencil Nose said, "I do have vested interest in an Advisory business too, if this is of any interest to you..."

"Oh, which one?" said Nakul, purely out of courtesy.

"PanAsia."

#

# The After Party

Nakul was still very drunk when he got into the taxi but he was fixated on the discovery of the evening. Their new friend, Raju the Pencil Nose, had said that he had stake in a company. The company that he referred to was the one that Nakul worked for. Did he already know that Nakul worked for this company? He did look at Nakul for a reaction when he said PanAsia. And he did have those 2 bohemian guys follow him everywhere he went.

As Nakul got off the taxi he realized that he was tired and drunk from spending too much time in Colaba. Right now he wanted to lay down and sleep his head off.

In a distance, he saw Aisha get off a taxi. She could easily pass off as a model, with her wine glass silhouette and a divine face, and no, Nakul knew his beer goggles weren't the ones heaving this opinion on him. He knew he didn't have any inhibitions this evening and he didn't think he was sleepy anymore. Now all he wanted was some lift time with the damsel.

"Hi" said Nakul as he got into the lift.

"Hi"

"Been quite some time"

"Sorry?"

"I mean, since we had some lift time together," said Nakul as he became aware of an overwhelming need to flirt tonight.

"oh haha, yes..." said Aisha, turning a bit in the other direction.

"Ah, sorry I must be smelling, had been out for a ... ah... a corporate party"

"Are you always so insecure about being drunk?" asked Aisha.

Nakul's ego was struck down like a fly slammed hard by a chameleon's tongue.

"No am just being a gentleman," said Nakul somewhat angrily.

Aisha giggled.

Nakul put his hand across the lift as he smiled, looking directly in her eyes, a reflex action of sorts perhaps indicating that his body's horny chemicals had been activated and were prepared to perform any mating ritual that he could conjure off the scenes from the discovery channel.

But maybe this was not appropriate.

He anyways gave in and said something that he knew would roll of his tongue as easily as he was thinking it:

"You know we both have possibly had a rough week and there nothing more that we want but to relax a while but I just can't help but ask you if you would care to come over for some coffee or tea."

"Haa? You know it's embarrassing to say this...but I hardly even remember your name," said Aisha.

"Huh?" said Nakul, "Well I won't feel offended if we can take that matter up over a small cup of coffee, just an option I want you to consider if you have some minutes to spare."

"Ok, let's have coffee," said Aisha with a gleam in her eyes.

"Can I make you chai instead? Actually I don't know if I have any coffee," smiled Nakul.

"Do you have a beer, by any chance?" smiled Aisha.

Nakul put on some soft jazz once they were inside the apartment. He saw clearly for the first time what Aisha had been wearing.

"You know that skirt always looks so nice on you," he said half dreamily.

"Hahaha," laughed Aisha.

"Anyways, you can let me know if I am being too weird, ok, please?"

"Ok"

"Do you like Clapton?" said Nakul.

"I loved him 20 years ago"

"I thought you were just 18" said Nakul as he brought the stereo system to life with 'Wonderful Tonight.'

"Hahaha"

"No I am a bit older than that," said Aisha.

"Just making sure in case this evening turns into an adventurous one..." risked Nakul.

"What do you mean," frowned Aisha.

"I didn't mean it the way it sounded..." Nakul was horrified.

"Ya? Be honest do you have something against girls who like to party once in a while? You think they are always looking for adventures?" asked Aisha. Nakul could see her turning a bit red in the cheeks.

"Aisha I think you've caught the wrong drift of what I said, I requested you to come over from the perspective of someone who would like a good conversation. To be honest, I've had a few beers tonight....do you mind if I get you your beer please?" Nakul cut himself short.

"Hahaha," laughed Aisha as Nakul loosened up again. He realized he was looking at her lips that were just a few inches away. He bent over slightly, touched her lips with his, and had a fleeting notion of recoiling away. His lips quivered too but he knew that she knew how much he wanted to kiss her. Nakul eased his hand around her waist, and then stood up to head for the fridge.

Their fingers touched as he handed her the beer.

Aisha was already swaying to Harrison's guitar on "Something."

She wore heels and had had her toes painted a hue of blue with a garnish of glossy spots here and there.

"I had wanted to have my tresses done in alternate colors as well," Aisha had obviously observed Nakul look at her legs.

"Ya, am sure you have to stop trying to look beautiful, you are already are a scream"

"Ha?"

"Scream, you know. I meant you are anyways really...you know..that's an expression I caught when I was in London."

"What do you think of the British?" asked Aisha.

"I think they are clever bastards," said Nakul.

"So they are, they ruled us for a couple of generations."

"But they are just the same as us...pursuing happiness in all forms"

"You think we are as free as them to pursue our happiness...I mean, here, in India?"

Nakul paused and tried not to slur, "You know for centuries we've been adding stuff from other cultures while keeping our values intact, I think this time we are going to fail miserably"

"You know I think you are right," agreed Aisha.

Nakul realized he was sitting next to her and her shoulder touched against his arm whenever she took a sip off her bottle.

"I don't really know how we define our values anymore," she said at length.

"You know only love is real, that's the basis of all values," said Nakul.

"Hmmm..." said Aisha, visibly thoughtful. "Can I take my shoes off, I have been wearing them the whole day."

"Y..y..yes, of course," gulped Nakul.

As Aisha slid out of her heels, Nakul sipped his beer, trying to look as sober as he possibly could...there's no charm in having a lady in the company of an uncouth. The saxophone from "Careless Whispers" was now blaring from the Stereo and Nakul felt like whispering careless thoughts of his own to Aisha.

As she bent to keep the shoes on one side, Nakul took one of her hands and pulled her slightly towards himself. He had waited a long time for the second kiss. He kissed the top of her upper lip this time and then the inside of her lower lip then lingered on, kissing her softly all this while. He felt his hand run down the back of her hips. He hadn't felt this alive in months. He kissed the nape of her neck as she held on to his arms. Nakul let go of inhibitions, helped hugely by all the alcohol from the combined courtesy of Neel's Friday initiative and Raju the Pencil Nose. While he was mindful of his drunken state, the awareness of this crushing need to kiss her soft skin and to hold her, overwhelmed him. He was now kissing her in sweet, soft and short bursts while holding her close. He felt good and he forgot he was otherwise miserably sad. Tonight all the right elements had taken over. Nakul felt as if the stars and the cosmos had a far smaller role to play in tuning a man's happiness than love, the passion of a saxophone and well, some alcohol.

"Hey, I don't know your name yet," said Aisha, softly.

"Nakul."

"That's...kind of a... unique name."

#

#  The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

Talukdar was trying to decipher the dynamics of what Nakul had just told him. The rendezvous with Aisha seemed so good that it was almost unreal. "So you think she slept with you because you told her you make lots of money?" he had asked Nakul, when Nakul called him up and narrated the story of the previous night.

"She didn't sleep with me, we had nothing of the sort, I remember just slumping off in the sofa and I remember closing the door behind her. She...I anyways don't think she would ever think of being with someone who is ear deep in a slimy jam as myself," said Nakul.

"Do you realize how bitter you've become about yourself?"

"Forget it, man," said Nakul in defiance.

"Yaar, I am speaking to you because I have known you for 4 years in college and seen you try and find meaning in everything. I understand you and I see what you are going through. I am also very sure you didn't tell her about the millions you are making."

"Millions, right!" chuckled Nakul, "You know the story. I feel miserable because I am just a cog in this wheel that's just spinning in thin air. I am responsible for distilling the truth with a wrapper of numbers that anyways fall in deaf ears. If that weren't enough I am working for a bunch of thankless bastards. While they get richer, some of the more deserving people will find it difficult to provide for their family. And if the injustice that I am deepening wasn't enough, I am actually trying to give myself a good time while at it."

Talukdar didn't say anything.

Nakul resumed, "I guess I am staring at a thankless life if this goes on...more than that...I think I am struggling to understand what sustains injustice around us and why are we so helpless when confronted by it? If there was any one point in my life that I was lost, none could come as close as this one," grieved Nakul.

"Hmmm, I understand," said Talukdar.

"Anyways, I am sorry I just keep ranting, nothing ever changes in my life anyways," said Nakul as he hung up the phone.

He regretted just hanging up the phone on Talukdar. Maybe he really was bitter on himself and his friends. Nakul poured some orange juice and sat on his bed. This was a long weekend, Monday was off. He decided to just relax, watch some TV, and then go for a long run for the first time in months. He was hoping against hope that he hadn't made too much of a fool of himself last night. Then he might even hear back from Aisha.

After a while, he typed a text message to Talukdar: "Yaar I am sorry I really am a bit sad these days...I don't know where life will lead me. Initially money was what moved me but now that I see what is happening so clearly, each day I am inclined to shun everything that has anything to do with this job. Forgive me, friend."

By evening, nothing moved in Nakul's ecosystem. Rohtaj was away on some bogus deal and so was Viraj so this was Nakul's dream weekend. He called up Prashar and Neel for another night in the city. He then dressed up and reached the designated bar well in time to avail the Happy Hours.

Past midnight, they were actually just half way into the evening. They swaggered their drunken selves towards the popular curry and roti shop that is thronged by the night owls in Colaba when they are done with the jiving and the grinding at Leopold, HQ or Woodside.

The moment when the target is shifting base is construed to be the most vulnerable for the target, a fact not less acknowledged by Don Hamid who wanted to send a signal to Don Raju by targeting his weakest and incidentally the most recent allies.

Two men in their late forties, harboring scars that depicted a story of their violent means to earning a living, were approaching Nakul and Prashar just as Neel drove out and away in his Honda Brio. Just as the shorter of them glided a knife 5 inches from Nakul's neck, Prashar turned around and instinctively grabbed Nakul by the shoulder to push him away...

"Run!" shouted Prashar, himself already dodging people, vendor carts, dogs and potholes and lunging towards anything that resembled a pillar. Nakul tried to pick himself up from the footpath wrapped in banana peels, filth and wastage. He slipped to hit his head against the big metallic BMC bin lying nearby. Aware of the danger lurking in the darkness nearby, he shot up again and sped off down one of the narrow bylanes in Colaba causeway. Meanwhile, voices kept ringing in his ears: "there he is!," "get him!" and he mustered more strength to sprint towards the popular eatery catering to scores of customers even at 3 AM in the morning.

#

# Pencil Nose

"Nakul?"

"Yes," said Nakul, still not sure if he should have moved from his bed halfway across the house to take this call. He was still in a bit of a trauma from the adventure of last night. He'd completed exactly 3 months at PanAsia and he had no clue that his new role would bring with itself a certain occupational hazard.

"This is Raj...we met last night, we had earlier met at the Dome..."

"Ah Big Noz?? I mean...yeah, I remember..."

"Wanted to make sure you and your friends are fine," said the voice on the phone.

"Wait...do you know anything about who tried to kill us?"

Don Raju did not have a habit or keenness to explain himself. Neither could he be on the phone for more than a few seconds. He hung up the phone.

The Don believed himself to be a new age Savant...and he wanted no less than to create an economy that would rival the state run economy with all its sluggishness, corruption and deception. He was a connoisseur of good business tenets. The Don considered himself to possess a unique penchant to excel, which drove him to educate himself from whatever resources he could find at his disposal. He took time to listen to the experts in their field. Be it real estate or the stock market. Many years ago, when he could afford some time from earning the minimal wages to keep himself nourished, he had exhibited utmost dedication in completing an advanced English course from a night school for adults. He never skipped classes no matter how tough his day at the construction site had been. What is supposed to be a defining moment in Raju's life was when he knocked at Constable Devarao's door at the Bandra police station. He barely wanted to request for police intervention in searching for his brother's daughter, who had gone missing from the Jhuggi near Andheri. The Constable thought he had better matters to attend to, in the form of arranging for a Politician's clandestine date with a leading lady of Bollywood. He dismissed Raju and his friends as if they were mosquitoes hovering around his neck, and Raju had persisted that he help them. That is when Constable Devarao had held him by the collar and slapped him. Raju had slapped him back.

15 years later, many of the likes of Constable Devarao were on Raju's payroll. Don Raju's ascent had been nothing short of magnanimous. The more 'meetings' he helped facilitate, the more his brand grew and prospered. He had an edge over the other gang lords. He was far more organized and ingenious. He focused on leveraging his observation skills towards immaculate implementation of standard procedures that helped his outfit in dealing with unexpected events. At last count, the Don controlled over half of the city's real estate and diamond business and had branched out to support lending businesses indirectly. He was perhaps among the city's richest, but he was definitely the one who wielded most influence in the city's matters, be it politics or business related.

The Don thought of Mumbai as Gotham City, his land he had avowed to save. In this land, he held his son the closest to his heart. Keshav was the embodiment of all of Don's aspirations and his reasons to live. Keshav inspired the poet in Don Raju:

"Bereft all riches, I hold you warmly my son"

Because his job precluded exhibiting any empathy in front of his men, he had to resort to writing poetry to feed his emotional self:

fj"rk

vkt fj"rk ,d ,glkl cu dj jg x;k gS

ftlesa gj ,d fj"rk vkWlw cu dj cg x;k gS

ekW cki vkt I;kj ds fy, gks x, gS ykpkj

D;kasfd cPpksa ds c<\+ x, gSa O;ikj o ifjokj

cgu dk fj"rk HkkbZ ds fueU=.k dks rjlus yxk gS

vkSj mldk vkxeu jk[kh vkSj HkkbZ nwt rd fleVus yxk gS

HkkbZ cgu ds /kj tkus ls igys 100 ckj lksprk gS

gks tk,xk iSlk o oDr [kpZ ;s lc mls vanj ls dpksVrk gS

ifr ifRu dk fj"rk egt fn[kkoVh jg x;k gS

lkr opuksa dk oknk egt fdrkch jg x;k gS

csVk ekW dks cks> o firk dks fQtwy le>us yxk gS

ekW cki dk eu vanj gh vanj flldus yxk gS

csVh vc ekW dh fe= de nq"eu T;knk gks xbZ gS

firk o HkkbZ ds I;kj dks Hkwydj Cok;QzSaM esa [kks xbZ gS

lkl llqj cgq o csVs dks [kVdus yxs gSa

csVksa ds chp esa eghus nj eghus caVus yxs gSa

Qslcqd ls fj"rksa dk nk;jk Hkys gh c<\+ x;k gS

ij okLro esa fnyksa esa fj"rksa dk I;kj gkj x;k gS

Relationships

Nowadays, relationships are but just experiences

Essence drained away in teardrops

Parents thirst for an inkling of love

Their children too busy with their lives

A sister longs to see her brother

Stares longingly on the dates of festive occasions

A brother calculates a visit to his sister

Time and money factor into the equation

Married lives are taking a toll of their own

Husbands and wives living textbook lives

Parents become a liability

Love and affection swapped with mild transactions

Daughters view their mother's love with suspicion

Father and brother are labels; boyfriend's a priority

Wives despise their in-laws

Who put up with ritual like treatment

Indeed, Facebook has brought everyone closer

But the heart has given up on love

The Don knew that he didn't have many more years left as a vagabond running from the law and he wanted his lineage to revert to mainstream life before he was gone. The shadow economy that he was running had a life span of perhaps 5 years more. The Indian Government had adopted technology faster in the past few years and it was getting easier to spot trends in money laundering. Don Raju therefore did everything he could to ensure the most secure life for Keshav. He bought Keshav the best possible education and managed to enroll him into the most competitive of careers so that he be accorded the opportunity to revamp the family brand and pride.

Sadly, as is typical of people born with a silver spoon, Keshav too had little idea of the sacrifices and aspirations of his father.

#

# Playground

Nakul stood outside the Maker Towers and saw Keshav go through the shutter into PanAsia. Today, it has been more than 3 months, more time than Nakul had initially given himself at his new role soon after he had joined. As Nakul himself walked towards the shutter, he barely noticed the feeling of anticipation that he had grown accustomed to. Bouts of depression followed by mental maths for the number of days left for Nakul to resign had become the routine whenever he placed his laptop bag at his desk. The indifference towards life had been brewing inside of him for a couple of weeks now and reflected in the way Nakul spoke with his friends, the few that he had now, and his parents. Consequently, he felt being pushed further inside in his cocoon. His friends from the business school seemed to be doing great. Some ran ventures and were well on their way to becoming successful names in technology and retail businesses. Most had started to appear in papers. One of them, who was now a VP at a private equity fund, was interviewed about his fund's investment in India. Another was quoted in a leading financial paper; he went on to express views on the macroeconomic environment. Nakul felt confined to the realms of PanAsia where the founder's philosophy, or the lack of it, percolated down the ranks. Viraj had a hardnosed assumption that employees will not work unless you hold a carrot in one hand and a whip in another. Yet, no one seemed to work enough to make it matter, Viraj backed out of his commitments to clients, as if to ensure that no deal closed. Still, it was outright funny that he would call up at odd hours and then ask you to get printouts just for the sake of exhibiting his control over you. Of course, he was careful about his image as well and rang off a volley of one-liners that had become famous as Papa-isms to shrug off his image as a paanwaala-a street side merchant known to be proud of his paan and stingy about his paisa.

Nakul was surprised that Viraj had rescheduled his flight to Singapore and was in office today. That too well before 10 AM. Behera, the peon, approached Nakul and gestured him towards Viraj's cabin. As Nakul opened the door, he was surprised to see Neel in the room as well.

"Do you have a girlfriend or a boyfriend?" Viraj was asking Neel with a straight face.

Nakul laughed aloud, more as a reaction than as an acknowledgement of the funny part in the sentence.

"Nakul, were you born fat?" asked Viraj again...

Again, laughter, this time Neel joined in with higher decibels than either Nakul or Viraj.

Viraj said, "My sources tell me you two are sipping coffee together."

"Sir? Well, maybe mostly during evenings...if at all," said Nakul more as a defensive statement that did not come across as very safe.

"Anyways, you both need to lose weight. Look at me, I run 3 miles everyday," said Papa.

Neel laughed at this one too though Nakul decided to control himself.

Papa looked a little taken aback. One could not blame Neel. Papa was not the kind that you could suppose would be able to walk to the door let alone jog. He was bursting at the seams and sometimes he had to try to squeeze words out of his nose when he had too much to say.

"I am going to New York next week and I want you to prepare a 20 slide deck on how India is still sone ki chidiya...ok?"

"Ok Viraj"

"Chalo, let's say you have a month to prepare the deck"

Nakul thought that was very generous on Viraj's part, he had never heard of anyone getting 30 days to make 20 slides.

As they came out of the cabin, they saw Prashar come in through the main door and hastily place his bag on his desk. Suddenly Nakul realized that he hadn't felt more relieved in his life.

"Man, you wouldn't pick up your phone!!!" said Neel as Prashar settled in his chair.

"Dude, after running for half the night, let's just say I didn't have enough energy to even lift a finger," explained Prashar.

"Anyways, you are in the clear, Viraj just got into a call and Rohtaj and other suckers haven't come in as yet," said Nakul.

"Cool" said Prashar.

"Hope all is well?" said Nakul

"What do you mean?" said Prashar.

"I mean, I don't know who those idiots were, the ones that tried to stab us...they can't be random thieves, we don't look that rich, do we?"

"I have no idea dude, all I know is that I am keeping away from any nightlife for a very long time. I locked myself in my room all of yesterday, and only God knows how I've managed to come to office today," said Prashar.

"I don't know if this will surprise you but I got a call from the guy we met at the Dome...the guy with a pencil kind of nose, who introduced himself as Raju... He sounded as if he wanted to apologize for the attack on us. For the life of me I can't understand why he felt responsible...still, the fact that he had my number is freaking me out a lot," said Nakul.

Prashar paused for a very long time until it got really uncomfortable, the lack of response, that is.

"Prashar, is all well?" said Neel and Nakul's questioning look echoed his concern.

"You tell me. Remember I had said that PanAsia was a front for the mafia. I think we just crashed into our main investor that night...did you call him back?"

"He called from an 'unknown' number...I didn't know you could still do that," said Nakul.

"Whatever man, that night was a bit too adventurous for my taste, I can tell you that. I anyways think his nose was more like a marker, don't you think?," said Prashar.

The 3 friends went back to their desks, they were a little numb from the recent revelation. As if their lives weren't complicated enough, they now were somehow in the mafia's radar. They had little idea of what the mafia was. Their acquaintance with the mafia's workings was only as good as the stuff that they could remember from the Godfather novels they'd read many years ago. Maybe the Indian Mafia was all about just taking a percentage off of all earnings of businesses in their area? Maybe they were more sophisticated now and knew better than to whack people in public? The trio really hoped so. Part of the confusion was related to the series of events that landed them here. Anyways, they wanted to look busy for an hour and a half until lunchtime. Nakul was surprised that Rohtaj hadn't called him or Neel even once to his cabin. He was not sure if he had even come in to work yet. Maybe he still didn't know that Viraj's plans changed somehow and he had come in to work instead of boarding the plane to Singapore. Still, Nakul tried to complete the deck Rohtaj had expected by EOD today. Prashar would send in the comparables for this company in the mobile app business and they would be 90% done, Nakul thought.

Rohtaj came in just before lunch; he barely looked up and went straight in to his cabin.

"Man, I think about Papa and I don't know if I despise him more or pity him more," said Prashar, as the trio headed downstairs to get lunch.

"Maybe it's a new kind of repulsive feeling built out of combination of both?" asked Nakul.

"And I can't help think of Doggie...man...why is he such a slave?" said Neel, referring to the Sr. VP in PanAsia who was known to suck ass to Viraj far more than anyone else.

"The peon told me Doggie never spends more than 40 rupees a day on his breakfast AND lunch," said Neel.

"For a VP who earns 60 Lakh a year?" wondered Nakul.

"Somehow I am not surprised; everyone knows how miserly he is. Once we forgot to put the a/c off when we closed the paan ki dukaan and he almost had a heart attack the next day," said Prashar.

"Ya, I remember...it was fun to look at him that morning, he looked as if he would cry any moment," laughed Neel.

"Man, it does feel hollow as shit to work for these people. I mean, they are like bullies in a school, Papa is the aggressive-passive types, Satku is a psychopath and Doggie is ... well...a Doggie," said Nakul.

"And I am sure all three are proud of their people management skills," said Neel.

"At least they are nice to NEW clients," observed Prashar.

"It's about time word gets around in the market that PanAsia is just a front to scam employees and clients...get retention fee from clients and forget them...that's the business model," summarized Nakul.

"And Papa promoted Satku last time, on what grounds I wonder," said Prashar.

"Because Satku was single handedly responsible for making the last batch quit," said Neel referring to the five employees who had quit together, in a successful attempt to give the middle finger to PanAsia. The documents that they were working on were never completed, as PanAsia couldn't find their replacements in good time.

"Seems like whosoever does a better job of destroying PanAsia is a better man than Papa," said Neel.

The friends laughed. The topic invariably remained the same each day-Satku's insanity, Papa's narcissism and Doggie's miserliness. Yet they never seemed to have enough of it.

By evening though, their favorite subjects of gossip gave them another reason to cook up a debate. Prashar had a discreet chat with the peon who told him that Viraj was going to be in Singapore, or at least away from Mumbai, for a good number of days. At the same time, Satku, Doggie and possibly the other VPs in the company were planning to take long overdue vacations starting from as soon as next week. While this was definitely a welcome development, Nakul was not sure if the 3 of them should head out for a round of drinks to celebrate.

#

# Friday

Friday came in soon this week. Or so it seemed to Nakul and friends. No one bothered them with any new work and they were beginning to feel quite differently about their lives. Suddenly they had the time to breathe and to think more deliberately about the next steps they were going to take. Their careers had come to a standstill since they were not to close any deals in the foreseeable future here in PanAsia.

"Satku is laying off our ass for the time being, he is busy talking to investors," said Prashar.

"...And Papa is also not here next week, he said he was going to go to London and NY after Singapore," said Neel.

"Ya right, he is throwing us the same shit that he gives to investors," said Nakul and they laughed.

"Looks like he likes practicing his lines with us," said Prashar.

"His 'lies' is more like it"

They laughed again.

The last time Papa had told them he was going to New York, an ex-employee spotted him in Pune. Still, it was a relief in itself that he won't be in office next week and hopefully, beyond.

"Tell you what, let's get onto something funny," said Neel. Prashar and Nakul were not sure what he meant.

Neel was always the blue-eyed boy for his parents, teachers and other stakeholders, and a resolute boy who was always energetic. The friendly aura that was enriched by virtue of his helpful and amicable nature had come to Nakul and Prashar's rescue in their lowliest of times. Even on the ladies' front, he kept receiving a steady flow of offers for coffee/movie, at least much more than Nakul or Prashar. His friends teased him to no end, at times.

Prashar had teased him once: "Dude you are such a commoner, for the life of me I can't rationalize how someone as ugly as you can succeed in garnering so much appeal!"

Neel had said, "What appeal? Where did you get this from?"

Nakul had said, "From Facebook, chum"

Neel was prepared with a comeback, "Ah! Facebook is for loners, right?" He echoed a taunt that his friends had tormented him with-that only loners get on with all the online social networking stuff. The sites were full of wussies, they would say, indirectly hinting at Neel. Anyways, they were active on social sites, themselves and had noticed that Neel's circle of friends was phenomenal, he was in the 'hip' circle, where most people were dating someone, or in the process of being hooked. Nakul and Prashar were both jealous and made sure to make Neel a butt of their jokes. Secretly though, they were grateful for Neel: they realized that Neel shared the same frequency as them and would rather hang out with them than go out on another doomed date, any given day.

"There's this pill...a poor man's Viagra...called ActsOn. Let's have some fun with it today," said Neel.

"Dude, I don't like the sound of that, is this one of the childish pranks?" said Prashar.

"Just bear with me. I had been thinking about this for a couple of days now. Why don't we crush a few tabs in the common waterhole?"

There was silence for a while.

"Did someone in your circle inspire you?" asked Nakul.

"It's just a little something that we can do to reclaim some of our lost pride...and time...and what not...at the hands of these people..." began Neel.

His friends looked on in agreement. Also, since today was a Friday, they didn't want him to use his convincing powers for another night out with alcohol. No matter how much Neel entices them, they would not think of heading towards the Colaba causeway bars again. It was best to go along with his crazy plan of the moment instead.

"Let's do it today then, while we still have Papa and Satku in office," said Nakul.

"And when we get caught?..." said a bewildered Prashar, "look, I just don't want to be someone's missus in some jail!"

"No way man, last time I checked, the peon is our friend more than theirs, who else can inform them except for, maybe, Keshav?" said Neel.

"Ok," said Prashar after a pause, "Just make sure we do this when Keshav's busy chatting up one of the ladies...he tends to linger on for a long time when he is at it."

"I'll do it," said Nakul to Neel.

"You just get the pills. After all, it feels like, in this company we are all part of some weird NASA experiment on the extent of human insanity," said Nakul and his friends smiled as they set off on the task.

Neel disappeared out of the PanAsia shutter and down the stairs. He came back in about 15-20 minutes with a tablet strip in black polythene. Without saying a word, he took a couple of tabs off the strip and, using his pen, ground them on a piece of paper.

"Ingenious" said Prashar.

"Go, let's do it," said Neel as Nakul carefully pulled out the lid of the 20 Lt mineral water container. His heart was thumping loudly in his ears but he would not quit midway. He emptied the ActsOn powder into the container and put the lid back.

"Now let's just be careful and not drink the water there," Prashar winked as they turned to walk towards their desks.

"How many did you really crush there?" asked Nakul.

"Well, I wanted to be extra sure we get the effects, so quite a few..." said Neel.

Nakul shook his head and smiled.

They maintained posture as they sighted Satku go towards the watering hole. He always went in with a glass of water. Maybe after 30 minutes or so, Doggie rang the bell for the peon for a chai. The peon obliged. As they waited, Nakul realized that he had started sweating. Prashar was giggling intermittently. "How long now before your magic starts working?"

"A few minutes more...not that I have ever taken them myself!...," started Neel just as they spotted Satku prancing in the lobby. Nakul glanced towards the lobby. Satku looked like a dog mistakenly shot in the leg by his master. His voice was croakier than usual and he was asking the peon to get some more water quick.

Neel was laughing now. Nakul gestured him to stop, pleadingly. Prashar came to where they were sitting... "Satku is going bonkers, I think he just ticked off someone on the phone."

"Let's just avoid him today, he just asked for boatloads of water"

Just before lunch, Doggie was spotted getting up from his seat slowly, as if he was going to steal something from his own office. He went upto his cabin door and slowly closed it.

"Eeps, I am never going to touch anything in his office from now on," laughed Neel.

Papa eventually asked for a glass of water too and the peon obliged within seconds. The peon seemed to have caught on the game and was a keen spectator too. Nakul, Neel and Prashar had already asked their friends not to sample the forbidden water. Papa surprisingly reacted sooner then all of them expected.

"Behera!!" his voice boomed in the hall.

"BEHERA!!! Where in hell are you?"

"Sir...sir!"

"Mere liye aspirin le kar aao" said Viraj, ordering some aspirins.

The peon got a strip of aspirin from the medicine box. When he came out of Papa's cabin, he was giggling as well. Apparently, Papa had consumed quite a few of the pills. He stormed out of the hall into the lobby and called for his driver. He seemed every bit the fat bully that he really was. All the lame jokes and quips about his being the best banker were seemingly the last thing on his mind. He had assumed his real character. He was shouting at Satku now, and Satku was whimpering in a corner of the lobby. When he left the office and Satku came back in to his cabin, all could see the blood shot eyes of a psychopath so eager to get some steam off his system. He had just been administered a dose of his own medicine in the lobby and he was absolutely not happy about it. In a business-as-usual scenario, he would have immediately summoned Prashar and Nakul to his office and given them a fresh load of crap plus a few days' worth of assignments. Today though, he just zipped his laptop bag and stormed out of office. Doggie was the last to leave, but for the first time in his tenure at PanAsia, he left his a/c as well as his office light switched on.

Even after a couple of minutes since the managers had left, the friends were still laughing but a certain worry kept ringing in their minds.

"Satku's response was the most unexpected," said Prashar, voicing everyone's concern.

"I think it's a no brainer and I am sure you guys have observed this as well...they are letting us be for a long time now. I think that's because they've somehow linked us to this Raj guy...this Don...our biggest shareholder..."

All of their thoughts were validated all at once as they looked at each other and realized that everyone felt the same and it was a relief that someone finally spelled it out. Their managers were the erstwhile colonists, the tormentors, who would not leave any opportunity to exhibit a sense of ownership over Nakul and his friends. Now, the new developments meant that Viraj and his troupe will not risk falling out of favor with the Don, their largest shareholder, by being bothersome to their MBAs. Nakul, Prashar and Neel in particular. The trio were in this boat together and perhaps now they will be able to determine where they'd like to steer this boat to.

#

# Night Lovers

Across town in a dilapidated bar called 'Night Lovers', Viraj, Rohtaj, Hirani and Mehta were looking at each other across the beer on the table at the far right corner of the hall.

"Is this the best you could do when I asked you to organize a clandestine meeting?" asked Viraj as he looked at Mehta a.k.a. Doggie.

"Viraj, what could be more clandestine than this?"

A huge burly guy was handing them napkins as he served them beer. He was standing uneasily close to Viraj.

"Could you please go over there?" said Viraj to the burly guy and he obliged.

"We can barely talk over this cacophony," said Rohtaj.

"I basically called this meeting to tell you that we are ducked. You can say bye to your 80 Lakhs a year plus bonus."

Rohtaj said, "I don't understand, are we being fired?"

Viraj explained, "Dumbass, you are not being fired, it's just that our shareholder wants a good reason to keep shelling out your compensation."

Hirani spoke for the first time, "We tried our best to give him what he wanted...we have more clients than we can handle and we aren't closing any deals, to screen him from the bad guys....well, the good guys...well...the bad guys for him, I guess." He was referring to the Income Tax department, the Economic Offences Wing, the Serious Fraud Investigations team and other Government agencies that have been in hot pursuit in of the Don's spoils.

Mehta joined him, "Viraj, we are signing a couple of retentions every month, there is no reason for our shareholder to be unhappy."

Viraj looked at disbelief at his subordinates, then said, "Morons, if we are not closing any deals, why would anyone ever need us in a few months' time? Anyone long enough in the industry should be able to sign on clients and do the bullshit work that we've been doing but at the end of the day the industry wants to see closed deals."

Rohtaj found his voice, "But our shareholder doesn't want any media attention and if we do close deals, the economic times and the mint will be breathing down our necks for details."

Viraj looked like an angry bulldog now, "Idiot, more than the media it is the IT department and the SEBI that will breathe down our necks for details. Our shareholder doesn't need that. And the last thing I need is a bunch of rookies running my business. And now I can't touch those imbeciles."

Viraj twitched his fingers as if he wished the fries in his hands were the MBA necks that he despised. Mehta a.k.a. Doggie was looking at the girl who was belting out his favorite number. She sang the song hoarse but seemed to still have raving admirers perhaps because of her looks and gyrations rather than her voice.

"LAME ASS, what are you doing looking at her with your medical condition? Dangling her a bone when you haven't got one..." boomed Papa.

Doggie finally looked at the group and conceded, "N..No Viraj..S..S...Sorry. I was just thinking...let's say we close the deal and not let the government mess with our business?"

"If that was at all possible, we would still have the media to take care of," said Viraj.

"Media doesn't care about the advisor, it's the details of the deal that they want," said Mehta.

"What do you mean?" said Viraj indignantly, the smoke and noise in the bar consistently reminding him of the ineptitude of his clan.

"We don't need a mention in the media, it is just the buyer and seller that they would want to know about," advised Mehta.

Mehta a.k.a. Doggie had known Viraj for more than a decade. He knew that at these moments, Viraj gets irked if no one answers and, otherwise too, he scorns back at any answer anyways. Doggie just completed a formality so that they could get this over with. Many a times Doggie had to deal with scalding emails even though he had little to do with anything to bring about Viraj's wrath. For example, the time when he had sent a detailed email explaining the fee structure of a retainer to Viraj. Doggie ended the email with a "Viraj, we are awaiting your inputs." Viraj had replied almost in seconds with a "My inputs...all of them...shove them up your ass." Perhaps Doggie consoled himself by thinking that he was a gold medalist in mathematics from the University of Mumbai while Viraj was just a spoilt offspring of a corrupt bureaucrat who was acting out his family's soiled repute.

"You idiot...you blaring idiot, do nothing of the sort..." said Viraj when he realized that Mehta was talking about increasing their bribe budget to the officials in the Government and to include the media as well.

"Just find a way to keep bringing in the small money in greater volumes and...somehow...doing away with those idiots without offending our shareholder."

#

#  A Million Dollar Startup

Aaron was a techie at IBM when he decided to work on this great mobile application that would let businesses track their products through the supply chain till the point of sale. He shifted base to India and worked night and day to get the interface right and to make the app compatible with Android as well as iOS. John, his colleague from IBM, had joined him when the product was to be launched for their first customers at Nestle...where Aaron's father Mike headed new initiatives in Marketing.

That was a year ago. Over the last year, NewAge had signed on many new companies. On one of his business flights to Singapore, he was seated next to a burly, talkative guy. A week later Aaron was singing the contract with PanAsia. As always, Papa had convinced him to pay a retainer fee as well. He knew NewAge had the potential to be used everywhere in the world but he couldn't physically do it without the help of the likes of BlueMicron Inc., TCS or even IBM.

Nakul could only just bleakly recall the weeks following the NewAge contract with PanAsia. He had just joined the damned firm. The days were filled with research, slides, excel models and shouting. Nakul could literally not figure out what time of the day it was, or what day it actually was. His outlook reminders kept pushing the day for him. All he remembered was the feeling that he had no control over his life, that he was getting utterly nervous and impatient each day. A couple of weeks and a million abuses later they finally had all the collaterals for NewAge, the teaser, the information memorandum and the financial model. NewAge was ready to be taken to market.

A few weeks had passed since then and typical to the drill at PanAsia, NewAge was not a priority anymore. Contrary to what he had promised Aaron, Viraj didn't want NewAge to be sold, the retainer and milestone fee for creating the collaterals were already pocketed.

Lately, however, Nakul had time in his hands and the luxury to breathe easy. He had even found the time to apply for jobs and had succeeded in fixing an interview for himself in the evening. He wanted to sound knowledgeable about the NewAge deal, should he be asked about it in the interview. Funny, just a couple of days ago, he knew it for a fact that he was very lonely and very sorry for himself for not wanting to live another day. He had definitely aged more than a year in the last 3 months or so and he certainly felt like he was running all the time yet finding himself in the same place everyday. Things needed to move.

He opened up the NewAge files. He wanted a tick on his CV. What if he let IBM or BlueMicron Inc. acquire this great company that Aaron had conceptualized and built? Nakul shuddered at the thought. On one hand, if he does manage to sell NewAge somehow, he would create the win-win situation that bankers were supposed to create. On the other hand, he would not only have to bail out of PanAsia really quick but also try and save himself from the Mafia.

The plan didn't have to be devised, it was written all over the walls now that Viraj and his clan were keeping their distance from the natural flow of the deal. It was then that Nakul had his Talukdar moment. The innovative mindset kicks in when the mind operates in the free zone, as Talukdar would certainly appreciate. Nakul was glancing at the numbers with a new perspective embedded in the newfound freedom. As he went over the numbers, Nakul knew something was not right. It was not just about manipulating the numbers to make NewAge look attractive to buyers, this was more.

He was besotted by the company's strong pipeline of contracts. As Nakul looked at the revised version of the excel sheet that the NewAge CEO had sent them, he observed something that they had missed before. Apparently, the NewAge software was implemented in a fortnight no matter how big their clients' operations. Now it was easy to see why the company was projecting aggressive growth, something that they had shied away from mentioning in the documents before. Nakul set about to revise the built in assumptions around the growth projections then he factored in the numbers for demand generated by companies to subscribe to the company's cloud based software. Software as a service would eliminate the need for companies to invest upfront in expensive servers and other hardware and avail a convenient plan on pay as you go basis. He then looked at the balance sheet of the company. Apparently, they had built huge IP assets over the past few years. A look at the P&L from the corresponding years told the story-though the company had been spending an over proportionate amount on building software, instead of capitalizing the cost to the balance sheet, they were expensing it. In simple terms, they seemed to have a big amount on Intellectual Property whereas they had claimed none of the product capabilities that were clearly on the sheet before Nakul.

A few minutes ago, if Nakul felt that they could sell NewAge at 3 times its current worth, he was off by a few multiples. Product companies sell for up to 30 times their current worth, especially in the mobile apps domain! The new valuation was in the range of a couple of million dollars. Within a year of setting up operations, NewAge was a million dollar company.

Nakul rushed to Prashar.

Soon they were sitting with Neel, deliberating on what needed to be done next.

"I don't think the big ones know about us, why would they buy something from an unknown advisor. Also, Papa and co. would hate to be on the legal radar," said Nakul, referring to the big IT services companies that were the prospective buyers of NewAge.

"Let's think about us for a change...once we have this on our CVs, who cares about Papa and co.?" Nakul was already searching for a job and he wanted a deal on his CV real bad.

#

# The Purist

Lately, Nakul found himself to be frequently lost in series of thoughts regarding his career path. So far it had been quite clichéd in a sense. Actually, the reasons he gave himself to pursue investment banking were very blasé. He dreaded the realization that he hadn't consciously chosen the damned career but was ingrained in it by a herd mentality. A stupid 2" by 4" business card pretty much summed up who he was-just another clone in the vast ocean of bankers out to be a deal jokey and getting thoroughly abused in the course of it all. Part time, Nakul was the designated driver to his friends-making sure they don't get too drunk and that they crash in a secure place every time they went out. So much for being a benevolent friend. The vain 'banker' tag is all that he seemed to have earned over the last few months. Still, he was excited about the discovery he had made in NewAge as he grabbed his bag and walked out of the office. He had half an hour to get to the Taj Mahal at Colaba to meet with a successful consultant, Colonel (retd.) Wajrilal, for his interview.

Once inside the hotel, Nakul looked up with awe at the thousands of jewels shining down at him from the chandelier. He felt as if he was at some celebratory event and he felt really good. As he walked towards the majestic door titled 'The Ballroom', he fell back to his thoughts from earlier in the day. He tried to remember the last time he was truly happy and he was confused as he thought what defined happiness for him. Getting this job really was not happiness; it was only a fleeting feeling of accomplishment with riders. He thought of his school time. He loved participating in debates. Once, Nakul was in a debate related to India's friendship with USA. He spoke about the endearing values of freedom that were shared between the 2 countries, and he managed to make a good case of this without really understanding that the US version of freedom always came with riders. Everything was structured and transactional in their world. Yet Nakul had been able to pull off a discussion at the back of his pretension that he had all the sufficient and necessary facts. He did the same in his interview with PanAsia. In both the instances, he had achieved the desired result but at the cost of things that would perhaps bring about his true happiness.

"When am I truly happy?"

Nakul felt truly happy when he was writing. Writing about life, listing all nuances that make up our day and night, categorizing them and putting them in their right context. He loved solving problems for people. He absolutely loved the fact that he had written a small piece of code that saved his favorite client a whole day of work spent on non-core activities.

Nakul's thoughts drifted to Colonel (retd.) Wajrilal, the gentleman that Nakul was meeting today, and he wondered if he would be better placed by talking his heart out instead of narrating textbook answers to the interview questions. The Colonel, now retired, was substantially well off, thanks to successful execution of principles he honed as a military man. He exhibited a relentless pursuit to imbibe a niche in defining clear roadmap for businesses, his clients, in formulating and achieving their objectives.

Money was an offshoot of his hard work.

"How nice would it be to have an office here, overlooking the sea," thought Nakul, "Ah, to live in the lap of luxury!"

"I've gotto get blessings from the likes of Wajrilal," reflected Nakul as he felt slightly jittery and at nerves' end as he thought of the meeting he was going to have with the business icon.

Nakul's thoughts were halted by voluble voices at a distance, welcoming a very affluent gentleman. The Big guy was dressed in an Armani and was wearing diamond cufflinks, stuff that Nakul had seen in movies. Nakul couldn't help but notice a beautiful lady who was part of the Big guy's entourage. She was being showered with a good amount of reverence. She was carrying a travel bag with golden embroidery at the seams. Even though, he couldn't make out her face from the distance, Nakul was impressed by her poise and elegant gait. "She is truly way beyond my league," and he thought. He blushed when he realized that Aisha would roughly fit the physical profile of this lady.

The group's conversation was within Nakul's earshot and now he was sure that the gentleman was Wajrilal. Nakul decided to approach the Colonel to introduce himself. That's when Nakul caught a glimpse of the lady.

Aisha!

He hadn't quite realized that his object of affection looked even more appealing in a business suit! She was acting so pricey!

He walked upto her and held her by the arm to have her walk a little distance away from her group. Aisha was equally surprised, and pleasantly so, to Nakul's relief. It had been a long time that they partied together, thanks to their busy office schedules. Nakul could barely hold himself back from kissing her. Aisha had to force him to maintain an arm's length with her.

"Funny, all the exotic stuff here is making me want you even more," said Nakul.

Aisha laughed. Meanwhile, a handful of people began to fill Wajrilal on the agenda of his day. Suddenly, Nakul didn't want the interview. The elusive deal experience would anyways be a spoiler. He decided to heed to his yearning for some quality time with Aisha. He felt her hand slip deeper into his and looked at her.

"Let's get some beer but not too much, I need you to not slur tonight," blushed Aisha.

"Anything to be with you," said Nakul as he felt the profound bliss of a truer world bereft of interviews and pursuit of manmade goals.

#

# Retrospection

On his way back home, Nakul rolled down the windows of the taxi to look out and let the breeze in. He reminded himself that life could indeed be good. Perhaps Talukdar had prayed for him, or maybe one of his stars just decided to go easy with the ordeals planned for him. That night when he slept, he saw a hillock with green velvety grass and patches of red cherries. Nakul had not seen so many cherry trees ever in his life. There was a dog sitting on one of the patches, looked like a Doberman or a Great Dane, very loyal looking. Nakul slipped out of the window and found a place at a chai waala stall nearby. Aisha was there too. She was smiling, gesturing him to sit beside her. The Chai waala had those cheap bakery biscuits that surprisingly go along well with the tea. Where else could he possibly have had those biscuits? Ah! In Durgapur, when the fear of exams was by far the biggest fear and even though girls were as elusive as aliens were, all the boys without exception wanted to be abducted by one. As he sat there looking up the beautiful blue sky, he felt alive.

Nakul got off his bed the following morning and he smiled as he thought of his dream, "I wish I stop doing this to myself." He hadn't slept so well in weeks. He wished he could call Talukdar but he was late for work. In the taxi on the way to work, he realized he had the leisure and the temperament to go back in time.

The mind wanders faster than you can control it.

Nakul thought of Durgapur, about 10 years ago:

Back then, Nakul felt his bua had joked when she said that college was the best time of one's life. What could be joyous about exams every now and then? Life as a youngster trapped in an engineering college seemed complicated and uncertain. Getting a job and graduating without any re-examinations from the Engineering College were the 2 goals of all 17 to 22 year olds within the campus spread-out in 200 acres.

"Sir, communism works in a way such that after any transaction you have a smile and your customer has a smile," said the bookseller who was still living in a Marxist world of decades ago. This baba was old yet he could carry 50 books on his head with impeccable technique. Books were always from Russian publishers and he would not bargain with you.

"Sir Education comes first; don't put a price to it."

The students lapped up his entire stock within minutes, paying 20 rupees for most of the books. Some negotiated a later time to pay for their purchases to which the baba amicably agreed.

Talukdar longed for a conversation with the seller of books everytime he visited the hostels. He was more a Bengali philosopher than an engineering student. "Russian authors write to the point. They will not make you imagine that you have a pet dog called Harry who is looking down at a bone immersed in a pond 50 meters deep. Russian authors will tell you that one's line of sight is modified due to refractive elements defined by such and such formula. Frankly, the shorter version helps save a lot of time."

"True, thinking up a dream girl as your girlfriend is a lot easier than thinking about your pet dog in space," observed Nakul.

"The British always loose the plot, they still haven't learnt," said Talukdar, "British succeeded, in contemporary sense of the term, because they valued pursuit of wealth far more than anything else. The British also were masters of formulating contracts and camouflaging underlying motives. Even for their own folk, they disguised the quest for Gold by clubbing it with God and Glory. In their eagerness to gather more gold than the Spanish, they made elaborate plans, quite like children...with supplies and maps all over..."

"You only say that because of the inherent inferiority complex you have as an erstwhile colonial," commented one of their classmates.

But Talukdar went on, "The imperial throne 'patented' these trips to exonerate them of the guilt that their true objective was to bring back gold. Childish...because they ended up thousands of miles away from the intended land mass they wanted to discover..."

"Ya, invariably in newfoundland in the first few 'grand' voyages," said Sharad, another classmate, indicating that he could recall his history too.

There were 2 things about Talukdar that Nakul always looked up to. His penchant for exactness and the completeness of his discourses. His knowledge was great too, and not limited to digital signal processing either.

"Any discovery is a product of intent, attempt and effort. The British discovered a lot. Knowledge of different lands and their resources. They sourced slaves from Africa, for example, more than 3 million Africans taken away from their land by the white man. Spices from India were precious, and India itself concealed many promises, thus began a long, arduous and deceptive era of colonizing Indians, who were too busy immersed in the spiritual movement during the time of the industrial revolution in the western world."

"Taluk baba, all that was ages ago, spare us the injustice today. Cut us some slack and give us your notes," said Maharnav in Bengali, putting a mocking request asking Talukdar for his class notes so that he could prepare for the exams coming up. Nakul was ever so sure about Talukdar's wisdom.

"He not only processes all this in the right way but he also retains the important bits, for life is nothing if its lessons are not learnt, and we would not even know what we are living for," Nakul thought.

"That is the starting point, to figure out what matters and what doesn't, to crystalize a better view of the world you want to see," Talukdar had said, as if he had read Nakul's mind.

Thus the days rolled by, marked by jest, music and friendship with occasional patches of exams and studies. Music, in fact, was a common bond between people from different parts of the country. Nakul was transported to a different world altogether by music. His appreciation for music was seconded only by his desperation to get noticed by Devina and Sakshi-the 2 queen bees in the electronics engineering batch. In the 7th semester, he was walking by a room that he had seen for the first time in all these years. This room was labelled 'music room' and had rust-eaten drums, a guitar and some speakers. Nakul instinctively ran to Nishant's room. People from the northeastern part of this country were born with a guitar in their hands.

"We are going to make a rock band," said Nakul.

"No you are crazy," said Nishant.

"No, really, Vaibhav has even agreed to join in"

"Really?"

"Am sure we'll have fun"

Within the next few minutes, Nakul was in Vaibhav's room.

"Nishant agreed to be a part of this"

"Really?"

"We are going to have some fun"

With the lead guitarist and front man signed up, Nakul just needed to sit back and scan applications for rhythm guitarist, drums, backing vocals, etc. The newly formed band met that evening in the stadium's gymnastics hall and took some time to setup the equipment. With the first strum of the guitar there were enthusiastic cheers all around-a good beginning was job half done.

Deal making was so easy back then, thought Nakul.

When Parikrama came to perform in the famous Recstacy, the annual fest, Nakul and his newly formed 'Mortal Fears' were the opening act. They were not rookies: they had garnered enough following in the 2 previous shows they had performed in. They had their small set of true-blue followers although each one of the Mortal Fears would have preferred groupies over those freaks. At least for a while, the desperation that resulted in creation of the Mortal Fears was replaced by a common brotherhood of music lovers.

"Vaibhav wooo hoooo," said one of the followers as he broke into a step that seemed more Bollywood inspired than rock inspired. Vaibhav had just caressed the mike delicately and oozed the sound bites for 'When the smoke is going down.'

Nakul looked across the crowd...the few follower freaks were standing close to the stage, a couple of drunk friends lying on the ground behind them, and a group of girls in the crowd waiting to be entertained.

Next instance, Nakul wanted to do something for the followers...to acknowledge their patronage that led Mortal Fears be the opening act for Parikrama. He grabbed a bottle of Thums Up from one of the refreshments rationed out to the performers and, shaking the bottle vigorously, let the contents ooze out furiously over the followers, waking some of their drunk friends who were lying on the ground...the crowd went ballistic after this showmanship that was reminiscent of Schumacher winning the F1.

Nakul was still lost in flashback as he entered the office. He slumped into his chair and looked around the hall. Nakul wondered what had made him sign up for this cacophony. He recalled his conversation with Orly, his college friend who was also in Mumbai during the time Nakul had graduated from his business school.

Nakul had said, "Had a tough time deciding what to do next; preparing for a handful of vacancies in investment banking is tougher."

Orly had observed, "Given your pre-MBA experience in software services, you'll be best positioned as a tech banker-one who knows the underlying tech jargon which comes in handy when you are talking to clients. After all, sellers mustn't take a long time to understand their ware."

Nakul nodded. Back then, the PanAsia opportunity was an event he had waited for all his life.

#

# The Conference Call

Occasionally, organizations feel the need to do it. The HR strives to do it. At times, the top brass feel the need to bring in the X factor to ooze that last drop of juice from their employees. Sometimes, salary or job satisfaction just do not suffice.

PanAsia was the harbinger of new ways of experimenting with employee incentives. They would go to any length to bring out that drive in their employees.

At another night club in Dahisar, an outskirt of Mumbai, Papa and co. sat around a table looking at a largish female belt out numbers from the 80s. Doggie was staring at her. Papa was staring at Doggie. Mehta a.k.a. Doggie had no idea how to respond to the tacit reprimands.

"Anyways, I am going to be quick. I am going to bring in the hot with the cold," said Papa, finally.

Rohtaj shifted in his chair, uneasy at the prospects of what Papa had decided.

Papa continued, "Our biggest challenge is from these freaking MBAs who think that they are the new bosses just because they rubbed shoulders with our shareholder. I have already sent in a communication to the shareholder explaining how inept these morons are and that he's best advised to let us lay them off. So far he doesn't see eye to eye with me on this. I fear that till the time the Don, our shareholder, doesn't send his latest communication to us, these idiot MBAs will go ahead and close a transaction, putting all of us in jeopardy."

"Can't we hire people who....who are capable of making our lives easier?" ventured Hirani.

"Hirani, I've personally thought of you as a moron, technically you shouldn't even have been here but for your wife...I mean...her friendship with Mona."

Hirani recoiled as if he just discovered his zipper was undone.

"Anyways," said Papa, looking at Doggie now, "let's convene over the phone tomorrow and I'll tell you how to eradicate the rats from our green fields."

Satku, Doggie and Hirani looked on blankly.

"I mean, I'll tell you what to do next. Darn it, you guys are freaking losers, leaving everything to me-with my heart condition and all," said Papa, not concealing any reservations about making his health problems public. He then got up and left the club in a hurry and walked up to his car. Behera, the peon, was waiting with the driver. Papa gave Behera a piece of paper.

The next day, as Nakul took the stairs up to the first floor for the umpteenth time, his usual feelings of indifference and skepticism were replaced by curiosity as he heard shouts originating from within the confines of the pan ki dukaan. As he approached the shutter, he saw the peon visibly agitated and angrily gesturing to the second peon.

"Saala kutra"

"Everyone likes to be angry here," thought Nakul.

Nakul saw Keshav coming out of the lobby and as he crossed him Keshav whispered, "Your boss ticked off the peon."

"He is back? He spares no one, does he? An equal opportunity abuser, he would proudly proclaim himself to be."

Later Nakul found out that the peon had dared to cross Satku in the lobby without respectfully acknowledging his presence. Satku obviously lost his control, especially because lately he couldn't exercise his inflated ego on his subordinate lately. An ego so baseless, the one that he exhibited generously before the wretched incident of Nakul's encounter with the Don. The peon, Behera, looked really pissed off the whole day, the Marathi Manus are not to be disrespected.

So, after many weeks of calm before the storm, someone in the office had to have it from Satku. Since his usual objects of aggression were lately out of scope, he found a ready victim in the Peon. "Bloody Indians! Oh God I was so much better off in the States!" everyone could hear Satku from his office.

Papa came in next through the shutter. The day so far reminded Nakul of the wrestling match where wrestlers came in to the arena one by one. Papa headed straight to the conference room. He asked for a glass of water and as he dialed in, Satku, Hirani and Doggie also dialed in from wherever they were.

"Guys, I am feeling better today, we have a plan of action and I am proud of myself for thinking this one through," Papa proclaimed. "We announce bonuses in the next week then leave them hanging, is everyone on the same page?"

After a pause of a second or so, there were a series of 'Yes' round the table, then, as if someone was waiting for everyone to finish, there came a 'No'.

"Who would that be? Mehta, is that you?"

"Viraj why would that be me? Rohtaj, is that you?" pleaded Doggie.

"Are you crazy? I am more than OK with the plan," resounded Rohtaj.

"I am NOT," said the voice, creating an ambience of mystery, at least in the conference room.

"Guys, can we reconvene tomorrow...?" started Papa, sounding unsure perhaps for the first time in his life.

There was silence for a while then a soft sound of someone joyously saying "Papa! Papa!"

"WHO WAS THAT!" said Papa, unable to maintain the proprietary calm anymore.

No answer.

"Guys you all know I can monitor who all dialed in from which all numbers..."

"Shhh...Papa knows everything!"

There was silence once more then a series of clicks indicating that the participants were leaving the conference call.

Nakul and his friends kept the receiver back just as Neel was breaking into an uncontrollable laugh, "Papa should have at least used a different dial-in," he turned to the peon who was standing behind the trio and smiled.

#

# Employee Incentive

Sahoo was recruited as an Analyst just a month short of graduation. Having spent most of his childhood in poverty, he had honed a steady resolve to help his family prosper by dedicating his academic life to the pursuit of a career in investment banking. The soft spoken Sahoo had attended PanAsia's pre placement talk in his college. No one in the makeshift auditorium cared for the fact that Hirani blurted shit in his heavy British accent while making the PanAsia presentation because everyone wanted an investment banking job. When he came to the slide that gave employee testimonials, one could see how glad and proud a select few felt that God chose them to be part of the gold tinted PanAsia. Even Hirani stared briefly at the slide in disbelief and lost his accent for a while.

During one of the 3 rounds of interviews conducted by Raima, Sahoo was taken aback when he was asked if he was willing to work long hours. He wondered for a while if it was a trick question. If he says yes, would he be regarded as too much of a follower, prone to giving in without a fight. If he said no, would he be deemed too lazy for the job. Little did he realize that this was just one of the many dimwitted questions from Raima's arsenal of interview questions and did not deserve such over-analysis. He said yes. He was offered to ask a question towards the end. Could he avail 2 days' leave to prepare for his CFA level 3 exams? Of course, Mona had said.

Now, a month into the employment, Sahoo went to Raima's desk as per the arrangement discussed during the interview. He wanted just 2 days' break from PanAsia's confines to hopefully regain some peace of mind and to prepare for his exam.

"I don't see a mail from Mona," said Raima to Sahoo.

"But you were there when I asked her, I can write an email to her too," said Sahoo secretly wishing that he wouldn't have to write to her knowing that she barely ever replies to emails.

"You can talk to Rohtaj, since you are reporting to him."

"Is there an alternative?"

"I don't think so."

Sahoo was disgusted that Raima was such a bitch. Like others, he had wondered what her job role was anyways. With nothing else left to do, he went to Satku's office and requested that he be granted 2 days' leave.

"Are you out of your mind, you dare to come to me with this stupid request"

"But..."

"I don't care if your dog's dead or if there's a fire in your..."

"...but I need 2 days..."

"Shut up and get out."

Sahoo then did something that made everyone piss their pants at least a little.

"I CANNOT WORK WITH YOU AND I CANNOT WORK HERE ANYMORE"

There was a silence for about a minute everywhere at the PanAsia office. With this salient demonstration of integrity, Sahoo had ascended the ladder of respect really high in Nakul's and everyone else's eyes. Work resumed but only at a cautious pace with no hint of any further skirmish between the employees and management.

Around 6 in the evening, everyone was surprised to see Mona in the office on a Monday. She looked grim and went inside the conference room. Sahoo was summoned shortly by the peon to go and meet her.

The meeting went beyond 8 and Nakul and Prashar did not stay late in the office. The next day, Prashar looked unduly animated.

"Sahoo is leaving."

"Err...that's a no news here at PanAsia, I am surprised we are still chugging along in here"

"He was made to sign a paper that he stole some data"

"WHAT?"

"He was told that he wouldn't be able to apply for a job anywhere else unless he signs an undertaking saying that he agrees to be restricted from approaching any employee at PanAsia."

"So these guys crossed a whole new level..."

"I spoke with Sahoo on the phone, he was shaken but he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible so he signed whatever shit they gave him to sign."

"Dude, that's stupid."

"Man, to think this was his first ever job...I hope he gets a second chance to a fresh start."

"Still..." Nakul realized that this could happen to any one of them. All of their careers were hanging on a thin line to which they were holding on to while being burnt by the persistent vanity and whim of some of the most evil people they had ever come across. Nakul realized that the trio were in a deeper mess than they had thought and the tormentors had sent them a warning signal via the events of today in an attempt to reclaim their ownership of them.

#

#  The Planning for the Face Off

Sahoo's incident was a signal to Nakul and friends to remind them who really was still in charge. The trio will have to focus on devising a strategy by decoding the turn of events as aptly as possible. The friends recognized the need of the hour.

"Have we decided where we are headed?" asked Neel.

"Let's go to Leopold's, if we don't find the crowd then its HQs," said Prashar.

They decided to have a last go at the Mumbai night scene that, in its own way, had contributed to the state of affairs that they were in. Still, bonding with like-minded people and the possibility of mingling with the nice crowd, quintessentially the essence of Friday nights, was the least of priorities for any of them.

As they were stopped by the bouncer-door attendant fusion at the door, they thought it was a good thing that Prashar knew him from his society in Dadar. As they took the stairs going up to where the 'action' was, Nakul felt whiffs of smoke, the music and the laughter. A girl with tresses covering one of her eyes seemed to gaze at Nakul. She wore high heels and formal trousers. "Strange combination," thought Nakul as Neel patted him on the back, "Boss you done with the gazing? Can we begin discussing then?"

Nakul nodded. "That couldn't be Aisha," he thought. He was thinking about her a lot lately, a little more than what he was comfortable with.

They downed a couple of beers and discussed the situation at length.

"Papa and his clan are out to get us," concluded Neel.

"There is no one to go to for help, too," said Nakul.

"Ya, the Don guy who apparently was impressed by you won't return phone calls..." chuckled Neel.

"What is the w..worst that they can do?" said Prashar, slurring a bit already.

"Hmm...how about kicking us out for stealing data and not letting us have another job ever?"

"Not if we resign first," said Nakul.

"We can't go anywhere else for a job without an experience of closing a deal...I spoke with someone with a fund of their own and they were least interested, the first thing they said was come back to them when I am done with a deal," observed Neel.

"Same problem, I interviewed with a VC and they said I should come back after I have a few deals under my belt..." agreed Nakul.

"We're stuck...we all know Papa's operating model is to hire hungry profiles from leading B schools who are not going to go anywhere for at least a year. He then puts on his 'I know so and so' mask and pulls in the vulnerable promoters and investors, just like he pulled us in, with his sky talk. Then all he does is make sure that no deal gets done, especially if it is a big ticket one," said Neel.

"Papa won't let a deal happen, he is on a punctured dingy...the only thing keeping him afloat is hot air...inside of him," said Prashar.

"Unless...we close a deal without his approval anyways...then we can leave any minute, the market will know us...we'd have made our bones then..." said Nakul.

His friends reflected on this bold idea.

"Is there any reason we would need Satku or anyone from the Papa team to close this deal?" asked Prashar.

"I am directly in touch with the guy who is assessing NewAge at BlueMicron Inc.. He's been ringing me fairly regularly, wanting to know certain aspects of the company. I can already tell that he'll be more than happy to bypass us and get the NewAge products for BlueMicron. In other words, there is no reason that he would need PanAsia to intervene if there is no objection raised by NewAge management," explained Nakul.

"Yes, that's right, I read that clause in the mandate that we signed with NewAge," said Neel.

A grim silence followed, then Prashar said "Gotto go now," as they halfheartedly gazed at a scantily clad belle who was letting her curves do the talking on the dance floor.

Just as he bid farewell to his friends and to perhaps their last nightly sojourn together, he saw his phone ring.

"Son, you have no time for us anymore." Nakul's father was on the phone.

At any other time in the past, Nakul would have just hung up the phone. He looked up the time on his phone and was surprised that it was just 8 in the evening. This was definitely the shortest Friday night outing for the trio. Nakul was possibly at the wee end of his banking career and his father, who was also his financier for his MBA, had every right to know at least a bit of what he had invested in.

"Papa, trust me, there was a lot to be done, there's barely time to even get back home and get a good night's sleep," said Nakul, still wondering if he should have hung up.

"Beta, it's about time, you need to think seriously about marriage." The topic was akin to a swaying sword suspended over Nakul's head. He was taken aback at his father's grief-filled rebuke.

Nakul tried his best to sound reasonable, "Papa please don't worry, everything is going to be alright, just give things some time."

His father was not amused, "Everyone keeps asking us, we are like a laughing stock in the community."

"What's happening there? I am a little confused, and please no one is laughing...I know I am past 30 and that's a little too old to be out there in the marriage market...just trust me, I'll get married soon."

His father did not buy this, "Your childhood friend Ravi...he has a daughter now...and you?"

Nakul knew the drill. His DNA had been conditioned to weather this kind of assault just as his father's DNA had been equipped to dole it out day after day.

"I will get married, to a nice girl...soon. Please believe me," said Nakul once again and then he hung up the phone and stared at the voluminous complications that life was serving him. He wanted to think about Aisha...maybe.

When he reached home, he was so tired that for the first time he slumped on his bed with his shoes on, just like they show in western movies when a cowboy returns from a formidable duel. He dozed off just seconds later.

"No, he does not know much," said the old master as he walked past his band of freshly minted warriors. Nakul was not sure if the master was talking about him. He tried to gaze at the master as he heard him say, "Our lord needs to achieve this task by any means, we'll have to be careful at every step and indeed in our planning."

Now again they walked in Nakul's direction, looking every bit as dignified in their image as the positions they held in the kingdom. It was hard to look into the master's deep wise eyes and his brusque voice made sure he had every bit of your attention. His stride could make elephants march alongside, it was said.

After a while, no one felt their presence and they turned to Nakul, one by one, some menacingly...he could catch only a few words, "unfortunate," "doomed"...as Nakul developed a growing feeling of helplessness.

But Nakul knew he would find his solace in time. He felt an angel near him, though he dare not lift his head as this could be looked upon as a brash act. Still, Nakul chanced a glimpse at the angel tending him and was pulled towards her. He exhaled all his worries in one breath to complete a soothing effect that he had longed for.

Nakul was smiling when he got up his bed.

"My nightmares have mellowed down a bit," he smiled. It was barely 5 AM in the morning, and he unlaced his shoes to sleep a bit more comfortably.

#

# Blessings

Typical of a Saturday morning, Nakul felt like sleeping a little bit more. His head felt heavy, as he tried to remember why and, as had become customary lately, he regretted his involuntary routine of taking stock of the situation first thing in the morning.

"Ah," he spotted the Blackberry at the other end of his bed and checked for calls, mails or messages. Another habit that he'd wish he could trade for something more constructive.

Going to the supermarket had become a favorite pastime with Nakul, especially on the weekend when he could spend more time. The colors of capitalism were at full bloom at the store. Here, the smartly wrapped up shirts, candy, cosmetics and processed food aptly concealed the ugliness of hardship, toil and injustice that went into producing these goods. So unlike construction, Nakul thought, the wretchedness of the 'work in progress' is apparent when the building is still a skeleton. You see the vulnerable labor, the polluting crushers, the noise and the violence that combine force over a couple of months to make an artefact that was first visualized by the mind.

"When will I be 'made'" thought Nakul as he tinkered with the possibility of resigning on Monday. He was tempted to run the plan in his mind. All that needed to be done to close the deal was to get Aaron from NewAge on the phone with Ramakrishnan, the BlueMicron Inc. guy handling the deal, and advise them a valuation based on the great traction in the market for NewAge's product. Nakul would need to speak here and there to help nudge the valuation up a few points so that NewAge gets a fair deal. Then, once they agree on a number, they will sign the share transfer. Nakul thought that he had doubtlessly played a significant part in the process so far by helping articulate NewAge's market winning potential to BlueMicron. He had showed them a smorgasbord of a full suite of offerings of the combined entity, factoring in the assumption of shared sales channels of the two companies. All this reflected in BlueMicron Inc.'s eagerness to acquire NewAge. The deal can close in a single day. Whenever the sale agreement happens though, Nakul would have to bail out of PanAsia to save his skin from Papa and his clan and the Shareholder.

Secretly, Nakul admired Aaron's mettle to leave his job and do his own thing. He nurtured a hope that after all this was over, he would make something of his own, too. For now, there is no escaping this 'work in progress' phase, all things worth their salt need to go thru this. Funny how working for a company like PanAsia sharpened Nakul's basic instinct to cull restrictions of any kind that lead to a demented ability to think freely. "Huh," he sighed, "I'll need my health back, too."

"So you have decided?" said Talukdar, as Nakul gave his friend the customary call in the evening with an intent to give a brief of his battle plan to his well-wisher.

"Yes. I have decided not to refer to you as my agony aunt," joked Nakul, "Hahaha, that apart, I am planning to do something quite stupid, frankly. I am going to bypass the PanAsia CEO and get this deal closed. Wanted to run the plan by you to make sure I wasn't leaving any ends open."

Talukdar knew Nakul was talking about the NewAge deal.

"Make sure your boss is not around to ruin the deal," Talukdar cautioned Nakul.

"Good, I can't wait to see the last of the serial liar, the psychopath and the penny pincher," said Nakul, referring to Papa, Satku and Doggie.

"Other than that, I think the plan's pretty foolproof, provided you manage to fly under the radar of your tormentors. Good luck and make sure you tell BlueMicron Inc. that they are getting a great deal," summarized Talukdar.

"When they acquire NewAge, they are going to find out that there is no need for the effort to patch NewAge app with their own apps since there's a whole set of functions built within NewAge that provide those interfaces, I've already had BlueMicron Inc. factor that in, in their post integration forecast," added Nakul.

"And NewAge will be able to retain its people since they are going to need all the help that they can get to install their product globally!" noted Talukdar.

"Say, Talukdar you are intelligent, ese," teased Nakul.

"That's maybe coz I'm a Vegetarian, homie," Talukdar said.

"Damn right, you are!"

#

#  A Time to Plant and a Time to Reap

Nakul walked towards the PanAsia shutter in confident strides. He opened the door and muttered, "Walk this walk, all will be well." He had decided to do 2 things today...get the NewAge deal done and then safely walk out of PanAsia forever.

As he walked towards his desk for one final time, he looked at his colleagues in cubicles neatly arranged all over the hall in such a manner as to completely erase the impression of neatly laid out pigeonholes that they were. His friends were engrossed in their daily chores. The scene was not different at all from his first day on the job. The faces still bore an unenthused look. To the keener eye, they also bore a longing to get past the hectic daily routine. Also, this time around, Nakul was far less curious about the click-clacking on their laptops or the churning of the printers.

Nakul was shaking as he thought of the risks. As the trio execute their plan, Papa may find out their motives, and then they'll have to brace themselves for a backlash. Worse, Papa might even have them killed. He was concerned to a lesser degree about the possibility that even if he escapes unscathed, he may cease to be a banker as soon as walks out of the shutter today.

Nakul saw Prashar walking up to him.

"What's up?" said Prashar. Nakul felt the same consternations in him...will we be able to pull this off?

Neel was still not in.

Suddenly, Nakul heard Papa talking to Satku in the latter's cabin and he froze in place. Papa was upset about something and was speaking in an agitated tone. Surprisingly, Satku was not as restless as he normally is in such meetings.

Nakul instinctively walked up to Keshav. He didn't care what Keshav was doing, he seemed like he was just browsing the movie timings anyways.

"Keshav, we need your help with something important," said Nakul, wanting to sound assertive, but coming out as weak. Perhaps he was hanging at the brink of failure.

Keshav looked up uninterested. A don's offspring needn't have much of an ear for the meek calls for help especially from an MBA.

"Sure," he blurted, almost impudently.

"NewAge needs to close today and I've been asked by Viraj to seek help from any Associate. Prashar is not feeling good today, as you can clearly see, and others are working on pitches. So I thought of giving you the opportunity to play a role in closing PanAsia's biggest ever deal," said Nakul. This time though he came across as a Sr. Associate demanding some assistance from his Associate. One thing that Keshav wanted was to repay the overwhelming nurturing that Don Raju expended on him. Then, he would be a man in his own right. Closing a deal and proving himself in the corporate turf would get him one step closer to that aim.

Neel had just entered office. He was looking at Prashar who stared at disbelief towards the ceiling. Why was Nakul making a noose to hang all 3 of them? It was inevitable that Papa and co. will get wind of their strategy to close this deal now that Keshav is involved.

Keshav followed Nakul as he started walking across the hall towards his desk. Neel and Prashar followed.

"Nakul, we are playing for some formidable bragging rights if this deal closes today, right?" said Neel, sensing the need to play along Nakul's improvised plan.

Nakul nodded, "This deal is going to be by far the biggest that we've ever done, why, I think this is going to be one of the key tech deals in the country this year!" he said as he noticed Keshav betray a slight excitement by firming up his stride as they took seats around Nakul's laptop.

Keshav pulled a chair to sit next to Nakul. He was all ears. He thought of the first thing that he would do if all goes well. He would go home today and proudly proclaim that he was the banker who sold NewAge to BlueMicron Inc..

Nakul thought it best to execute the plan as soon as possible. He called Aaron up.

"Aaron, BlueMicron Inc. wants to get this done today, I assured them that if they were willing to appreciate the full potential of the deal, and if this reflects appropriately in their offer, the NewAge co. would consider going over their proposal on the phone."

Aaron was keen to speak with BlueMicron Inc..

Keshav was visibly excited. He was beginning to respect Nakul for giving him this golden opportunity. Ever since it was apparent that NewAge could be sold, he grew a resentment towards the team that would take the credit. He cursed his luck that he was not associated with the Technology team. Well, his stars be praised, his book of fortune seems to have turned a new leaf.

"Hey Nakul, do feel free to let me know if I can do anything to help out..." Keshav offered, as Nakul hung up the phone.

"Sure man. Just be prepared with the printouts of the collaterals in case BlueMicron Inc. asks for any info about NewAge during the telecon." Nakul knew that BlueMicron Inc. will require no more info at this stage of the deal but he needed Keshav to feel important.

Prashar joined them near Nakul's desk. Nakul created an outlook invite for Aaron, John, Ramakrishnan and the BlueMicron Inc. team and quickly went over it once before sending it out.

"The call is in another 15 minutes!" said an excited Keshav.

Just then, Papa came out of his cabin and shouted for Behera, the peon. After about 5 minutes, Papa stormed towards Nakul's desk. Nakul heard Papa's heavy footsteps getting louder. His heart pumped wildly. Papa would shut down their laptops. He could pull out the telephone from the wall. He could be carrying a gun! He immediately pushed the keys on his phone to switch it to silent mode and held it against his ear.

"Hi this is Nakul," said Nakul, holding the phone to his ear.

Viraj stopped on his tracks, "WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING HERE, WHY ARE YOU GATHERED AROUND THIS DESK?" Papa's voice boomed across the hall. He was not at all his pleasant self that he had espoused to be at earlier times.

Nakul solidified his posture and kept speaking on the phone in a calm and composed voice: "Sure, no problem."

Keshav looked somewhat irately at Viraj and said, "Nakul was walking me through some numbers..." Before he could say anything else about the deal, Nakul spoke loudly on the phone, "Yes Raj, Keshav is right here with me."

Viraj took a step back then looked behind him as if he was struggling to elicit a response from somewhere. He then turned around to walk towards to his cabin. They couldn't possibly be discussing the NewAge closure.

Keshav assumed that Viraj's curtness was a form of anxiety for the deal. Keshav thought Viraj was unduly pressing them on to focus on doing everything possible to close the deal. Viraj was certainly being overly anxious: from the little that he knew of Nakul, Keshav thought of him to be more capable than any other employee in the execution team.

Nakul saw Viraj walk back to his cabin. He placed his phone on his desk.

"Who was it?" asked Keshav.

"We've hired Rajesh, one of my juniors who is going to work with you, he will begin from tomorrow, anyways that's not important at all," Nakul tried to sound angry.

The call began in a few minutes although it felt like a lifetime to Nakul and friends. The legal team from BlueMicron Inc. had also joined. Ramakrishnan from BlueMicron Inc. was more courteous to everyone today. "Aaron, very nice to have you on the call," he said.

Nakul suspected that he might be talking sweet, hoping to get away with a lower offer.

"Our diligence has given us a go ahead," Ramakrishnan informed everyone on the call after laying out the context and giving everyone an update on their deal related activities so far.

"So is it time we gave you our number?" asked Richard from legal.

Aaron was calm. "If that is what the agenda calls for, sure..."

Nakul's fears, that NewAge might not get a good valuation, were soon allayed when the offer was finally on the table.

BlueMicron Inc. was offering a full 30 times the revenue that NewAge was generating.

No one from the NewAge team spoke for a minute. Aaron finally said, "That sounds great."

Cheers emanated from the NewAge team and the BlueMicron Inc. team as the legal people took over the call and detailed the next steps in the transaction related to the transfer of company shares to BlueMicron Inc..

After the call, Aaron called up Nakul.

"I can't say enough to let you know how great we feel to have you as our advisers."

"Congratulations Aaron, NewAge is a great company, we were just the messengers."

"You recognized our crux...the intellectual property. You also were great with your analysis of synergies with BlueMicron Inc....thank you for all of that."

As Nakul got up from his desk, he saw Prashar and Neel looking at him with a gleam in their eyes. Keshav was already on the phone with his current girlfriend talking about the accomplishment.

"Chal lets go to a bar," said Neel.

"What for? oh right, the deal," said Nakul.

"We'll need to put up our papers now," Prashar reminded them of the second task for the day.

"Ya that too," said Nakul half-heartedly. While he would be resigning happily from this hellhole, he thought of the 30 odd NewAge employees whose fate he had changed forever. Their careers were secure at least for a few years. "If it hadn't been for the deal," he thought, "some software engineer would've found himself and his family at the mercy of a different set of bankers caring damn about right or wrong."

"Listen, we need to stay in for a while, we can't leave the battlefield yet," said Nakul.

"Why the heck did you let Keshav in on this," said Prashar, echoing his and Neel's sentiment.

"Papa and team already knew what was underway. He could have stopped this deal at any point. By having the Don's son in our team, we essentially got ourselves a deterrent, at least temporarily. I am sure Papa and clan are in the conference room firming up a response."

"Well, you played that well, homie!" said Prashar.

"Yes, no way Papa could have let us go through with the deal if it had been just us," said Neel.

The trio knew that they might be asked to resign any time now...they had violated the sacred decree in banking by closing a deal at the Sr. Associate level. In their case, Papa and his clan may not need to plant data to incriminate them and force them to resign.

Thinking about their last moments in paan ki dukaan made them excited but sad at the same time. This is where they had all come together and recognized the things that they value the most in life. Pain sometimes drives you to craft a purer hope and a prettier picture about the future. Oppression helps create a stronger longing for all that is good in life.

As the three friends stood looking out at the sea, waiting for fate to take over and usher them out of the office, Neel went to his desk to grab his bag. He came back to Nakul's desk. Prashar followed suite. It was best to stick together; the friends did not know what eventuality they would face next.

"Hey dudes, hold up."

Nakul looked up from his laptop to see Neel with 3 bottles of Thums Up in his right hand. From his other hand, he fished out a bottle of Old Monk from his bag.

"Are you kidding me?" Nakul was aghast.

"I kid you not," said Neel.

"Here, dude?" said Prashar.

"Well, if we do get caught we can all say we were happy celebrating the deal," joked Neel. He emptied the 600 ml bottles of coke just enough to pour in an equal quantity of alcohol in each. He then handed the bottles containing rum-cola, one each to his friends.

"Guys, normally one can't help but talk ill of paan ki dukaan. But today, as we stand here within the confines of our dear shop, let us raise our cups and toast to all the times we've had here and hope that they never ever return for as long as we live," smiled Neel.

"Let us also toast to the fact that we are still alive," said Nakul.

"And then, let the Almighty give us the common sense to not toast each other anymore and instead pack our bags to bolt from here," said Prashar.

After a few minutes, the friends began walking towards where their colleagues were seated. The NewAge deal will be public in a few hours, minutes perhaps, so no one was judging them yet. Had the PanAsia Associates not been engrossed in mindless excel models and news runs, they would have found it odd to see 3 of their mates with a smile on their faces and a bottle of coke each. They might have found it more bizarre to see the peon come out of the same room about 10 minutes later with a bottle of coke. Neel had poured him some too.

"Saala kutra," said the peon in passing. He was obviously more used to country made liquor and presumably, the Monk had already struck him hard. Nakul, Prashar and Neel chuckled, though they seemed to be the only ones to do so.

About 3 feet from the main door was a shelf that no one had ever seen being used. It contained a few files and bound documents, some of which were scanned and uploaded from the machine installed in the corner. The peon headed straight for the cabinet and pulled out a file with black sleeves. He held it up for a while as if he was a tribal making a trophy out of a vanquished enemy's head. He then stealthily moved towards Nakul's desk and flung the file towards the window across the hall.

"THRASH."

The leaflets within the file were flying all over the corner of the hall.

By now, everyone knew that the peon was not his usual self. Instinctively Nakul grabbed his bag and headed towards the door. He gestured Neel and Prashar to do the same. The trio thanked their luck that most of their colleagues were already downstairs to get a quick bite to eat. There were not many witnesses to the peon's act. The ones that saw decided not to be too bothered about some file flinging idiot who anyways doesn't have much reason to do whatever he does everyday.

Except that as Nakul slung his laptop bag on his shoulder, he saw a piece of paper on the floor where the file had hit the wall. He picked it up, glanced at it and put it in his bag, then walked towards Papa's office to tell him in person that he was quitting.

#

# A Time to Change

As he alighted the stairs thinking about what had just happened, Nakul also thought about his 3-month employment at PanAsia. The moment of reckoning had arrived. The day that he had imagined numerous times was finally here. He was leaving the house of terrors and errors. One thing he was completely sure of. Never again would he come across the likes of Papa, Satku and Doggie no matter where he ends up. Lately he had not cared to think at all about the things that really mattered in life. At first he didn't have the time, later on, he was just too tired. He had to keep up with bouts of Papa-isms meant to condition them to be better slaves.

As Nakul walked out of the Maker Towers, he let his thoughts drift to his tormentors. Papa was prone to giving guest appearances every now and then to unload fresh dump of lies that did no more to the employees except shun them for a while in bewilderment. To clients, he made more mind blogging promises that his employees then had to execute upon. Doggie was the last person on earth to look up to, he cared far more about the quantity of toilet paper being used in the bathroom than anything else. And then there was Satku, a confirmed psychopath and a possible druggie who was in charge of life at PanAsia. Just a couple of weeks back Nakul was on the verge of losing his sanity, trying to do his best to keep up with Satku's whims. In just a few moments, Nakul realized, everything had overturned today.

In the overall scheme of things, Nakul acceded that he shouldered responsibility for sustaining blue-collared sweatshops like PanAsia while snatching away jobs of unassuming and able people who added multifold more value to the economy. All this he did for empty promises of a hefty bonus payout and the fear of being jobless. Today, Nakul and his friends were done with living in greed and fear all the time. How many others like us can take the same call? Nakul thought of the millions of other MBAs who let the corporate callousness screw their lives. Like them, Nakul had done everything till this point in life that he was made to believe would take him towards a happier life but he was furthest from it instead. He felt angry at not doing anything sooner to prevent the ill treatment meted out to him by the very people he was supposed to adulate!

"Wonder how many years I have taken off of my life here," thought Nakul. As he neared the taxi stand he felt sentimental again. He'll take the last ride back home from here today. He was feeling weary...like a lone survivor returning from the battlefield. He looked at the ocean almost half consciously and saw a blue-feathered bird at a distance that seemed not to care of Nakul's world.

"Can we take off together, over the ocean, not too far away from the beach?" said Nakul.

"Sure."

Nakul couldn't freaking believe himself but soon realized that someone else had responded to his rhetoric.

"You look sad," said Don Raju, looking out from the window of his Mercedes E350. A huge guy came from behind Nakul and pushed him in next to the Don. They were driving towards the Marine Drive, thought Nakul, as his side of the door slammed shut. "God, this is where I'll end up!" panicked Nakul...as the sea came in view.

"Stop shaking," the Don said.

Nakul had no idea what one was supposed to do when seated next to an accomplished criminal. He tried his best to stay calm but he couldn't help shivering all the same and he couldn't for the life of him understand this involuntary reaction on his part.

"Am trying," thought Nakul.

"You aren't the diffident youngster I met the other day. Settle down, I am not going to hurt you," said the Don.

"Why wouldn't he hurt me?" thought Nakul, "I've possibly just set the cops sniffing after him."

"You think I am angry because you hurt one of the businesses that I owned. Ideally, I should be angry. But then I thought of your reasons to do what you did. Namely, what were your options? Living a meaningless hollow life was less of a problem than the fact that my guys were holding you back from reality and inebriating your sense of making good, lasting decisions. Well, you too are to be blamed, partly..."

"H...How?" said Nakul, easing a bit.

"You took a long time to come around...possibly because looking at things the way they are needs balls. You lent yours to others so they can control your lives better...Still, you came around when you did."

Nakul wondered if he was permitted to speak. He decided against it and waited for the Don to finish talking.

"I know the feeling. Even though you did everything that was supposed to make you prosperous, you actually felt as far away from prosperity as one could possibly be."

The Mercedes cruised down the drive, past the Intercontinental and the Dome, like a swift bird. Had he been in the car in altered circumstances, Nakul would have settled in more comfortably in his seat and quietly adored the ride.

The Don continued with the monologue, "Today, I am sitting in a train where people are just vomiting everywhere and it doesn't seem to stop at any station," he said, looking somewhat disgusted for the first time.

Nakul struggled, in his mind, to make sense of it.

"Do you know where this train is taking me?" asked the Don.

Nakul was not sure if this was a question or a cue to the burly hit man seated in the front to do something really vicious to Nakul. He quickly blurted without thinking, "To a happy place?"

"I didn't follow anyone's footsteps for a successful career. I grabbed life by its horns and rode it. After a while, I was the one being ridden and I was tired. I had the exact opposite feeling that you have...I wish I'd have lived a normal life, a good education, a respectable job..."

The Don sounded admonishing yet endearing. Nakul kept himself from thinking the various ways in which he could have him killed. He thought of the many things he would start saying to the Don to dissuade him from killing him.

"There are many people who've been vying for control over their own lives. Fewer truly achieve that control. Fewer still succeed to a great extent. Many years roll by till the time comes when they realize that all the effort had been in vain," the Don's voice was dropping.

Nakul maintained a revered silence.

"I really am a talking bird, ain't I?" said the Don as he rolled down the windows a bit to let in a fresh gush of ocean breeze. The Mercedes slowed down, Nakul felt a need to puke, but he controlled his urge. He was shaking again now but he let it show.

"You know, I miss going through those phases in life. Everything your parents do is related in some way to your future and happiness. Your parents coax you to study hard to get that education and make sure they do as much as they can on their part," the Don was looking down at his hands, he was visibly emotional.

Nakul looked on at the Don as he continued:

"I missed the opportunity to make them proud. I wish I could walk up to my mother when I got that first job, to see her exchange proud looks with father. See her shed a few tears she was holding back, perhaps since the time I was born. I would look back respectfully at the patience by which she fed me and taught me tirelessly day after day. Just to see me fly on my own one day."

Nakul was looking at the Don and was beginning to see someone who was vulnerable. Out of sheer concern, he said, "I...I am sorry...I am sure your heart was in the right place all this time and I hope all these regrets will pass..."

The Don didn't move his gaze from the sea. He said softly, "You don't have to worry about anything. In your zeal for freedom and righteousness, you did something that looked like defiance. In a way, it reminds me that passion for dignity still thrives in the heart of my city."

The car stopped and the burly guy came out from the front to help Nakul out of the car. Nakul was not sure if he should wave, he was still a little numb. As the car drove off, it seemed to leap effortlessly toward the ocean. Nakul felt a final shiver as he let out a tear that he never knew he was holding back for the longest time. So much had been given to him by this one opportunity to stay alive. He started walking along the sea and thoughtfully weighed the goodness and sublimity that life was made of.

#

# Talukdar

15 years ago, in W. Bengal:

During the first year in NIT Durgapur, every time Talukdar left home to board the train to Bengal, his heart grew heavy and eyes went moist. He kept reminding himself that he has to leave his family, the safe confines of home, and good home food. All this to eventually get a good job. It didn't seem fair to him that college had to be so far away from home and in the goddamn broken condition that it was in. An Act of Parliament established NIT Durgapur in 1960 as one of the eight such institutes aimed to impart world-class engineering education in the country and was funded jointly by the state and central government. If one went by the ragged, ruinous appearance of the buildings in the campus, the funding went towards creating some kind of modern art out of an institution of national importance. Or maybe it was a case of too much emphasis on simple living high thinking, Talukdar thought that they were trying hard to drive home the point. The mess workers completed the psychedelic effect by dressing up in torn, old and dirty clothes and making sure a finger was sticking way up in a nostril, an act of irreverence to the highly placed institute. Sticky small-grained rice and yellow water was served for lunch and dinner every day. One had to somehow brave it all and muster enough courage to get to the classrooms-again, broken, smelly and damp.

Talukdar looked around the campus and to him, it seemed that the only motivation for everyone in his hostel to attend classes was to act funny to get a smile from the girls...far fewer in number than the boys. And because there were so few of the ladies, they were a pampered lot, somewhat like queen bees in a huge beehive. To them, the Boys' hostel was a circus camp, a source of constant supply of jesters and clowns. For the clowns, the possibility of hitting it off with one of the ladies served as the silver lining in the cloudy 4 years spent in the circus.

To Talukdar, Nakul came across as someone like himself. A misfit and a wonderer. Of course, Nakul was more of an exhibitionist than Talukdar. For example, Nakul didn't want to ignore his potential to play the clown to the ladies. Once he decided to be playback singer to the Maths professor, Prof. Das, to earn some brownie points as the daredevil. The professor's Bengali accent was heavier than the weight of his baggies.

"Da bhalume aphh dees block aphh wood immersed in bhater eees..."

"Da Bhalume ..." started Nakul...stopping just in time to avert the professor's keen eyes but sang out the professor's words such that the overall effect was that of 2 singers, the second one singing in baritone.

"Dis time bhee immerse an iron bloke.."

"Dhees time bhee...." Nakul started but stopped as the professor tried to fine-tune his gaze on the source of his playback. Nakul, in an attempt to throw off any suspicions, broke out a yawn...and the professor happened to look at him. For a torturous while, the professor seemed to decipher the nuisance being concealed by the yawn, but then he moved on. Talukdar thought of this as a naïve act on part of Nakul but he acknowledged that one had to do things to be a part of the mob.

At times, Talukdar tried to build some meaning into his time spent there by writing anything that made sense to him in a small notebook. He gradually discovered that if you wonder about life long enough, you begin to get clarity of thoughts, which reflects in your actions. He realized that the best insights unfolded when he was as far removed from the noise of everyday banalities as possible. He needed to get away from the campus. He found a place hitherto undiscovered by anyone from the college, about 5 kilometers by bus from the front gate. It was a street side stall frequented by retired employees of the Durgapur Steel Company. Talukdar thought they were able audience to hone his discoveries of life. Soon, some of the worker's family members recognized Talukdar's gift of compassion and began confiding in him. They thought that he had wisdom that was sheer sunshine that uplifts you and makes you new, and assuredly leads you to acquiring something meaningful in life:

"Hard work pays-eventually"

"It is never too late to start a disciplined life"

"Make everyday goals to gain ground between your expectations and the result"

"Do everything in true form, which is only possible if you focus completely on the job at hand"

"Perfect balance between thinking and putting thoughts to actions results in perfect life"

The guy who ran the stall, Manoj, was especially grateful to have someone like Talukdar patronize his shop. He didn't mind the enlightening discourse that often came from Talukdar, too. Looking like a benevolent school master more than a stall owner, Manoj always wore a clean kurta payjama and reminded Talukdar of the attire worn by schoolteachers and netas in the movies from the 60s. Manoj worked day in and day out at the stall. He had a photo of his family in the front pocket of his trousers. Anyone who had a minute to spare would hear of his son's antics and the extent to which his wife loved him. Manoj had lovingly mentioned to Talukdar once that his son was just a few years younger to him. It was clear that Manoj was a satisfied family man, content with running a small shop for the interesting folks at the Steel Plant. Yearly, around Durga Puja, he wrapped his earnings in a bundle and set for home in Bihar.

He was nearing that time of the year. That was also why he was so fondly talking of his family lately.

Back in college, Talukdar was generous with words of wisdom for his colleagues too, talking to him eased their worries, and they felt less anguished about a girlfriend situation, a failed examination and other such personal issues. Nakul was hanging outside the canteen when he saw Talukdar with a friend. He heard him say, "Pursuit of money is the worst way to start a career. I place pursuit of intellectual keenness much above anything else."

"So does that mean you won't accept a corporate job at the campus?" retorted Nakul.

"Imagine a great research student with god given ability and perseverance to discover solutions to many a perplexing problem using sciences. The business world will veer him away to help them in projects with little better than data entry positions just because the same positions in the west would cost 10 times more. The student would have perhaps created a solution for world hunger had they let him be, who knows? There would've been an opportunity for the greater good...for himself and the society..." Talukdar had explained.

When Stark IT Systems came to campus in the final year, they valued extra-curricular activities more that grades. One had to be dynamic-an enterprising person. Nothing certified that better than being Nakul-a clown, a rockster and the ever wonderer. So, when the hiring squad is scanning a hall full of geeks who have all cracked really difficult exams to be here, they are actually wishing for someone who is different in any sense, someone who easily stands out. They need guys who have enough grit to be the master clown, and then some. Nakul had shown more flair to dissect Pink Floyd's mood rather than Professor Das' ranting. He was the ace clown, someone who exhibited many layers of potential that could be sculpted into a corporate boy wonder in no time.

Talukdar made the cut, too, because he stood out completely on the basis of his intellectual prowess. After the second interview, Talukdar was sure he knew enough to get by-he closed his eyes and thought of his home and the time almost 4 years ago when he had come to a place really far from home.

"Mahanto Talukdar, Electrical" roared the placement professor, his voice had a zing that lent him a feeling of importance of a king addressing his subjects. Talukdar was strangely, unmoved. He decided not to sign the offer letter.

On the other corner of the recruitment hall, Nakul held the offer letter and went over it again. He looked the other way as he felt a tear and his mouth twitched. He thought of the 20 thousand rupees a month and all the things he could buy with that kind of money. It didn't matter that he didn't know much coding, he would learn anything to be part of the corporate life. He just kept looking at the CTC figure mentioned in the offer letter repeatedly, as if he'd struck jackpot in a casino. He let out a sigh as realization crept in-he wouldn't have to trouble his father for money anymore. He cared damn about the fact that just the other day Talukdar was talking about money winning over everything else-values, talents, conscience.

The day was definitely a milestone in Nakul's life and he never did think too much of indulging in intellectual argument with Talukdar after that. He didn't even bother being sport and playing the clown as a display of camaraderie to his friends...all that was stuff he now perceived to be too bland, simplistic and of poor taste.

Talukdar had walked out of the hall, resolute. Today, very much unlike the person he thought he was, he was also a bit angry.

He took the bus to the Durgapur Steel Company stop. As he walked towards the stall, he saw Manoj clinging on to a gunny bag and facing a hostile looking group of 3 people.

A little over an hour ago, Manoj had finished preparing for his yearly journey to his village. Just as he left his room, he was greeted by Ramesh, another of his village friends, who told him of an impending burglary that was due to occur on Manoj's predestined route. Manoj carefully concealed his year's earnings within his shirt and set off on foot towards an alternate route.

"Hey there!"

Manoj stopped on his tracks.

"Hand over everything or be killed!"

Manoj turned around to see Ramesh with 3 others. He was angry at the betrayal. He decided that he wouldn't part from his hard earned money no matter what. As the gangsters ran towards him, he fled back towards the Steel Plant. It was a good thing that Manoj had decided to travel in broad daylight; there were still some bystanders outside his stall which he had left with his cousin.

"HELP ME!" shouted Manoj. He would not part from the money needed to sustain his family. Sensing trouble, his cousin rushed away towards a group of people standing on the highway, at a distance from the stall. Looking at the knives being brandished and sensing a gang war, some people gathered around the scene. Some stepped back to observe.

Suddenly, Talukdar took a few steps forward towards the attackers. He sensed his anger as he looked at the group that was about to attack Manoj. He picked up a rock and threw it at Ramesh, who was heading the robbers. It hit him on the shoulder and instinctively the gangsters turned towards Talukdar.

Talukdar stopped.

"We are more than you, there is no way you can get away with his money, let alone harm him," shouted Talukdar, gesturing towards the people that still remained standing nearby. He had recognized what the gangsters were after.

After a tense moment, the gangsters realized the futility of this hunt and decided to abandon it.

"Are you ok?" asked Talukdar, as the gangsters were leaving. Manoj dropped to his knees. He broke down and looked up at Talukdar.

"You came to my rescue," he said. His family could now be sustained for the following year, and he owed this blessing to the philosopher and his brave savior.

"Don't think about it; let me accompany you to wherever you are going."

In the railway station, Talukdar was sure no one was following them. Manoj was more composed now. Talukdar felt better, too. He was surprised at his own courage and the fact that he had turned down one of the most lucrative job offers today bore little significance now. After waiting for an hour for the train to Bihar, he helped Manoj find a comfortable seat, made sure his belongings were stashed safely and shackled with a chain, under his berth. He then patted Manoj on the back before turning to leave.

"My name is Raju," said Manoj, the owner of the small stall outside the Steel Plant.

"Remember this, no matter how insignificant you think of me now, I swear my friendship to you and I will one day make you proud of your act today," said Raju.

He solemnized his debt to Talukdar while decidedly shedding the fabricated name he had used so far to conceal his identity. His fellow villagers did the same, driven by the belief that this was a safeguard for their stupid penny businesses. The irrationality of the ritual stunned him as he realized that much else had changed within him.

#

# A New Page

"What is life, after all?" said Neel, more as a cliché than an earnest enquiry.

As if by cue, the opening riff to Dire Straits' 'Walk of Life' started trickling softly from the large speakers overhead. For a petite shop on Calangute beach, the shack owner had invested in a pompous music system. It conjured up an effect of grandiosity in the shack's ambience, thought Nakul.

"Hmmm?" smiled Aisha after a considerable pause. In her fashionable red top and matching stilettos, she looked every bit fashionable that she was. She was not too much of a fan of beachwear. In recent times though, she had been trying to tune her fashion sense a notch to dress more appropriately. She took it upon herself to address this ponderous yet morose mystery revived by Neel's simple question.

"Life," she said in her unostentatious and beautiful voice, "It is what you make of it."

Nakul shifted his gaze from Aisha's long, shiny brown tresses to her deep doe-like eyes. He had known her for a couple of months now and he was looking forward to know her better. She was the silver lining in the gigantic grey clouds that had been hovering over him for quite some time.

"You for one...I know how much you value your life now...especially with me in it," said Aisha, fluttering her eyes playfully at Nakul, reading his thoughts.

"Yeah, right!" Nakul crooned to downplay his feelings. He blushed, she had caught him with his thoughts probably because he was staring at her too much, he felt.

"Nah," said Prashar, "He would still possibly trade you for a geeky new phone any day," he smiled as he watched Nakul take a sip of his beer.

Nakul thought he'd take a shot at the rigueur de analysis of the moment.

"What is life? While growing up we make certain promises to ourselves and then due to reasons almost always hinging on lack of money and support, we are made to change our natural aspirations and instead hop on to the safest and surest path to life that we can get a hold of. Prashar here wanted to conserve wildlife...instead, he would do lot better to conserve his receding hairline...Neel wanted to instill hope in the disadvantaged section of our society, instead, he's ended up instilling rum in coke bottles," said Nakul as others broke out into a laugh.

"You, Aisha...you wanted to study flowers and here you are doing marketing for N&M, selling stuff you probably won't buy yourself."

Aisha saw the waiter approaching. She frowned thoughtfully as she looked at Nakul.

"Sure, sometimes life has to be about how we deal with uncertainties. Then we go ahead and do our own bit to heighten and aggravate our problems, no?" She clasped her hands together then smiled at the waiter who was now at the table. The waiter smiled back sheepishly as he handed the check to Neel.

"It's okay...let me get this, I am the one with the girlfriend today," winked Nakul, taking the check from Neel and thumbing out a 500 rupee bill.

"Ahh we don't have to go to office tomorrow, so we'll have to think of another agonizing topic to discuss tomorrow at the beer table!" he said with a smile and a tone of abandon. Another soft number was playing now, Louis Armstrong on the trumpet. The jingle aptly chosen, as if to rhythmically blend with the consistent splashing of the sea waves rather than to impede in any way the regal music of the ocean.

"Well, we'll commence our midnight discussion as soon as you leave," said Neel. He and Prashar planned to stay back at the shack to get some more beers and to try their hands at hitching girlfriends of their own.

"You better!" said Nakul, waving at his friends.

Nakul followed Aisha out of the shack and then stood next to her on the side of the walkway separating them from the beach. The two of them stood in formation for an instant, like two castaways waiting forbearingly for the setting sun to impart perhaps a glimpse of a rescue ship.

Aisha said after a while, "Aren't we like two penguins looking at the horizon for nothing?"

"Aren't you feeling a bit too poetic today?" said Nakul and he couldn't help noticing that the sea breeze was silently and tenderly touching Aisha's hemline as if to embrace her thighs.

Nakul's phone rang and he sighed. He wouldn't have bothered to get this call had it not been for Talukdar.

"Next time I need to liquidate a company, I'll know who to call," said Talukdar.

"Ah that is a trade learnt through painful personal experience my friend, so this time I will have to charge you some money."

Nakul was talking to his dear friend days after leaving Mumbai and coming to Goa.

"Some small talk first, please...hope all is well?" said Talukdar.

"I get a feeling that I am rediscovering life after a long time and let me tell you it is the best feeling."

"Surely it cannot be just the sea that does that to us," there was a hint of mischievousness in Talukdar's voice.

"Well, you are almost a Bengali so you tell me...can anyone separate you from your fish?"

"So...now we are talking my friend. Who is this lucky fish in question?" asked Talukdar.

Nakul walked away from where Aisha was admiring the local ware of the sales woman at the beach. She offered straw hats, necklaces made of small shells, and the like.

Nakul asked, "No, you are just talking small talk, remember? I'll tell you when we meet. Am patiently waiting too, to tell you about what happened in Mumbai way back?"

Talukdar said, "Way back?"

"Well, it does seem like an era ago," said Nakul.

"Well ok, you have a good time then...we'll talk soon!" said Talukdar.

"Wait! Aren't you curious to hear even a little?" said Nakul.

"You know I am the philosopher kind, I don't rush things...right now is time for you to recuperate. Plus, I can't be on the phone for too long these days," said Talukdar.

"Why?" asked Nakul.

"My girlfriend is not too happy about my long phone calls and if I have any chance to convert my relationship with her to a long term thing, I'll have to go along with her thoughts once in a while, you see?" explained Talukdar.

"You have a girlfriend?" Nakul was surprised.

"I am sorry, does that sound like a privilege reserved for bankers?" asked Talukdar.

"Ex-bankers," noted Nakul.

"Ok. My friend I am happy to report and declare to the world that I am in happily in love with a creature of the fairer kind," said Talukdar.

This abandoned expression of love almost sounded funny coming from someone perceived as wise as Talukdar. "Hey," Nakul thought, "love is not an exclusive domain of the reckless and the foolish."

"Great going man, congratulations!" he wished his friend, "Are you engaged yet? Is it on the cards? Well, that way we could catch up in person!"

"Hold your horses, I am a big fan of taking things slow," said Talukdar, "It won't be until at least a few months till I tie the knot."

"Well, we still have reason to see each other soon enough! So...the philosopher is finally catching up on worldly things! Well, here's something that I can teach you...there's nothing as exhilarating as pure love. You do know who I am with, right?"

"I am a philosopher, not an astrologer," noted Talukdar.

"That you are...anyways, I brought her with me from Mumbai," said Nakul.

"What...?" Talukdar wondered for a while, then said, "the chick you banged on the first date?"

"I think I already told you we did nothing of the sort," Nakul felt it necessary to clear the air.

"But that is she, right?" asked Talukdar.

"Yes, and you need to congratulate me too...I am engaged to her now."

#

# Ever After

Nakul was back in his hometown after years. He couldn't imagine why he had left Shimla in the first place and even when he had done so, why had it not occurred to him to come back to Shimla in so many years. The small, scenic mountain town had every ingredient one could want for pure and pristine living. It was a fairy tale land where birds woke you up in the mornings and monkeys made faces at you if you happened to cross their path. You could take long rejuvenating walks in endless meadows and not get tired. The water was clear and, come nightfall, you could actually count all the stars in the sky. The hill town was aptly chosen by the British to be their summer capital in India.

While on his way to pick Talukdar from the airport, Nakul took in a lungful of fresh mountain air and reflected on the past couple of months. The Shimla Airport was just a few minutes' drive away from the main town. He shrugged his thoughts off as he saw his friend walk towards him. Both hugged.

"Are you having better dreams these days, my friend?" Talukdar teased Nakul.

"Hahaha, yes...things are looking up lately," laughed Nakul, he hadn't had those annoying nightmares in a long time.

"I am sure they are...now that you are to be married!" Talukdar teased some more, his reference was to something more literal than figurative. Nakul would get the drift.

"Hahaha...true! My naughty philosopher friend, things surely will look up more frequently, there's no doubt in that respect. Another reason to rejoice I guess!" said Nakul.

"Also, you have your parents off your back too, I presume?" asked Talukdar.

"Yes sir," Nakul joined in the laughter.

Nakul picked up his friend's suitcase and placed it in the backseat of his Honda Brio.

As Nakul drove, they exchanged notes on college friends and professors. They had met after more than a decade and they still hadn't finished when Nakul pulled up in his parking.

"Why don't you rest a bit, then we'll take a walk to the Mall," said Nakul.

Nakul was already waiting for him as Talukdar came downstairs. They walked towards the Mall and Talukdar felt he was already in awe of the beautiful town of Shimla.

Once at the Mall, they decided to get some coffee in a quaint looking shop called 'The Indian Coffee House'.

"I am glad you are out of the mess. You handled everything really well," said Talukdar, "What really happened on the last day?"

"The last day...hmmm...let's see. The peon had gotten really drunk and he'd flung a file on the wall. We thought it best to leave the office as soon as possible. Just as I was about to leave the office, something took over me and I turned back from the reception to walk upto Papa's cabin. I told him I was quitting no matter what. Papa just looked at me and started 'Nakul when I hired you I had a long term...' but I didn't let him finish. For a change, I cared for my time, not his bullshit. 'Viraj, I have certain personal reasons to quit'. Papa just sat there and seemed concerned, in actuality he was just trying to buy some time for his wife, the 'owner' of PanAsia to storm in and yank another one on me. I was here too long to know their ritual. I was prepared. Sure enough, she turned up. 'I received your resignation mail Nakul and you know you have to make sure to create a folder with all your material....', she began the ritual. Without batting an eyelid I told her that the files were saved on the shared drive. 'You also deleted some other files...', she started...I simply told her 'look, you need to ask yourself what is it you really want from me, if you need me to stay back, that is out of the question, if you are playing some sort of scare tactic then all I have to say is let's not go that route'. Suddenly Papa seemed agitated, he said 'I can have you killed, you know that?' I knew I had to raise it up a notch and let them know that I was going home safe today. Turning away and running from barking dogs is not really a sustainable strategy. I looked them in the eyes and told them angrily, 'LOOK, I AM GOING TO LEAVE NOW AND AM NOT RETURNING TOMORROW. I DON'T CARE FOR YOUR PAYCHECK OR YOUR DAMN PAANSHOP.' I then walked out the main door and the paan ki dukaan shutter."

"I suddenly felt really good that I walked out on them so determinedly," said Nakul, "I knew that I had slim chances of another job without an experience letter, but I had found my escape velocity and had perhaps set an example for others to follow step."

Talukdar nodded.

"And others did follow step. The sole reason keeping them at PanAsia was job security. With employees leaving this shop on an average of just 4 months, there was a huge ex-employee base full of MBAs who couldn't wait to narrate their experience at the paanshop. All this time, Papa was relying on the huge supply of MBAs to fill shoes of people who left. The disgruntled or at the very least, bemused ex-employees had now gained critical mass and spread the PanAsia story everywhere. The story comprised of the fact that this was a Ponzi scheme to attract talent and then lead them through a well-oiled package of deceit, exploitation and abuses. On my part, I just set an example for the current employees to take the step towards the right direction sooner than later," said Nakul.

"But why did the shop close so abruptly?" asked Talukdar.

"Remember the peon who was pissed at Satku? He was holding a grudge against Papa, too, for underpaying him. Apparently, real manus go for the kill. It didn't take me long to make him our brother in arms. He knew there was this important file that Papa always ordered to be kept in a cupboard in the conference room. At my behest, he slipped the file out of the cupboard and handed it over. In a week's time, the file that contained details of invoices related to 'cash for checks' transactions would go to the Serious Fraud Investigations. The file had certain other important stuff as well, mostly concerning siphoning of funds from Singapore to India under the veil of the double tax treaty."

Talukdar was listening with rapt attention, "Wow, that's pretty brutal...the way you vent out your vengeance!"

"I was not alone in this war...it was the 3 of us and then the Peon, Behera, who had also became a confidant. On the last day, I got hold of a piece of paper that accidentally flew out from one of the files that the peon had flung on the wall. It contained the contact details of PanAsia's man at the Registrar of Companies in Mumbai. Apparently, Doggie had underpaid him this year for his services. The clerk had asked for just 10,000, not even a fraction of the money that PanAsia was laundering. The stingy bastard, Doggie, didn't go more than 5,000. Understandably, the clerk was appallingly pissed with Doggie, and PanAsia. You can mess with anyone but not a clerk at a government office and Doggie learnt this lesson the hard way."

"So Doggie's frugality had a role to play in the downfall?" he asked.

Nakul nodded, "A major role. For almost the same sum of money, and after a lot of convincing, the RoC clerk agreed to hand over all the documents related to PanAsia that he was dealing with, on condition of anonymity. We used all these documents to approach the Serious Frauds investigation team once again."

"Am sure Papa must have beaten the crap out of Doggie," laughed Talukdar.

Nakul smiled and continued, "So needless to say, the shutters of paan ki dukaan have closed forever. Prashar met the peon a few days after we'd come back from Goa and some people from the Comptroller and Auditor General of India had come to office to paste notices all over. PanAsia was barred from soliciting any deals until it was cleared of all the cases. Papa, who was looking forward to boast about his newly purchased gold cufflinks or the trip to Cayman Islands, was now staring at jail time."

The waiter arrived with the coffee. Talukdar was listening with solemn silence all this time. He said, "What about the other people? Doggie, Satku..."

"Doggie has been absconding since our last day at work, it seems he figured out he will be hunted down by the Mafia and the cops all the same. Satku is in jail for possession of drugs and will be tried for other offences amounting to corroboration with PanAsia in generating fake paperwork. He used to store cocaine under his table in office and Neel had a hunch all along. Purely as a shot in the dark, the last thing Neel did just before leaving office was to dial the cops from the reception. He hit the bull's eye."

Talukdar said, "You have been through one hell of an experience! I am sure your learning has been priceless and far more than you could have gained anywhere else."

Nakul nodded. He reminisced, "You know, adversity prompts retrospection and we've been through some highly intense stuff lately. Anyways," said Nakul, returning to his narration, "I hear that the peon, Behera, is taking ownership for the entire fiasco, not that anyone else is complaining. He says he never dreamt he could bring the elephant down, referring to Papa. He produces a paper clipping from his tethered wallet with the heading 'CITY BANKER BEHIND BARS FOR FRAUD' and displays it proudly as a memento of his life's achievement."

Talukdar recognized the jest in the headline, "At least the papers stated that he was a banker, finally!"

They laughed. Nakul wanted a muffin with his coffee and he gestured for the waiter to come over to their table.

"People do find ways to cling on to memories though. Mona's LinkedIn account still says she is the MD of a Pan-Asian Investment Bank. Looks like she decided against sinking with the captain of the ship. She offered to help the authorities with more information about PanAsia's operations in exchange for protection against prosecution. Sadly though, she hardly knew anything about the business, and any inkling of her having any incriminating input against PanAsia was far-fetched," said Nakul.

"Amazing story. Maybe you should write about it!" said Talukdar after Nakul had finished narrating the last of the events of that day, the chance meeting with Don Raju.

Talukdar was too engrossed in the story so far and the waiter who walked up to the table with the bill interrupted his trance. "Phew! Well, you are still alive, so they've really let you be..." said Talukdar, "What do you plan to do now...I mean career-wise?"

"Seems as if the Universe conspired to bring my aspirations alive the moment I decided to quit PanAsia. I regained my positivity and was not planning to do anything for a while but I received a call from Aaron just last week. They were in the last phase of integration with BlueMicron Inc. and he has asked me to join him as the Chief Strategist in his team," said Nakul.

"That's a great call on his part. Congratulations! This is truly a season to rejoice! Aaron valued your services and he did something to show his appreciation...and you've found something you had always wanted to do. Let me assure you this: you will truly enjoy creating value...something that I had always wanted to impress upon you...one should follow their heart in choosing a career. You are finally complying with one of my mantras...it did take you a couple of years to come around!"

Both friends laughed and Nakul handed the bill amount to the waiter.

"Aaron's advised me to bring in Prashar and Neel, too, as part of my team."

Talukdar smiled, "Ah, the A-team once again! You'll have to keep a leash on Neel though and warn him against drinking coke in office!"

As they got up to leave the coffee shop, Nakul paused. Now that he had recounted the happenings, something still didn't quite fit the sequence of events. It was only till they got out into the Mall again that he grasped what he had been confused about. He turned to Talukdar. Surely, his wise friend couldn't possibly have answers for everything. Still, Nakul conceded to the bleak possibility.

"One thing I am really unsure of, though," Nakul said, calculatingly.

Talukdar looked at his friend.

"To the best of my ability, I just can't figure out this one thing...why did the Don leave me unharmed? I practically destroyed his money laundering business. And worse, I used his son as an accomplice in doing so. He had me in his clutches, why did he then let me go?" said Nakul.

"Strange are the ways of the World, my friend," said Talukdar. With so many stories to go around, he saved the story of his friendship with Manoj for a different day.

Nakul seemed to agree, "Indeed," he said.

"I am sure for all his malevolence, he saw it proper to lend your case some compassion," said Talukdar as he looked upwards to the clear sky and silently paid tribute to his own little contribution to the series of amazing events in Nakul's life.

#  
# About the Author

Kunal, the author, has seen the wins and whims of the corporate world in his resolute attempt to get that corner office. He earned his MBA from INSEAD and has logged numerous banking and consulting hours. He is now living a far more fulfilling life by putting his pen where his heart is. Kunal is not as pensive as he might seem and lives with his wife Aditi and son Sannidhya in Gurgaon, India. He can be reached at Keshain@Gmail.com

