 
HI STRANGER!

By Thomas Jacob

Some of this actually happened...

# Part 1

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# 1

The shiny, white Audi A8 rolled into the luxurious compound of the Sea Palace Apartments. The car door swung open and a girl stepped out of the driver's seat. She was in her early twenties, slender and fashionable. She was dressed in white. Her short Hermes summer skirt flapped lightly in the breeze, accentuating her shapely figure. Her wavy, brown-black hair fell to her shoulders. She walked swiftly to the building entrance in her high-heeled Vera Wang shoes.

Rohan caught his breath as he gaped at her. His heart was thundering. She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life. He watched the burly security guards in grey safari suits stand up respectfully as she walked past them into the building foyer.

It was a few seconds later that Rohan could finally breathe easy again. He looked at the building in front of him thoughtfully. Located in Pali Hill, the Sea Palace was a four-storied apartment tower designed by a famous American architect, who had brilliantly combined Art Deco and Contemporary styles to give the building its unique look.

Pali Hill was an affluent residential neighbourhood in Bandra, with neat bungalows and pretty gardens and was home to Bollywood stars, well-to-do expats, famous artists and socialites. It was a quiet, green, posh enclave in a noisy, dusty city that was bursting at its seams.

The flats in the Sea Palace were massive 4 BHKS, with high ceilings, tasteful, ultra-modern décor and French windows that provided a panoramic view of the Arabian Sea. The landscaped building compound had a large swimming pool and a fancy club house, set in the middle of an opulent garden of flowering trees. Ornate lamps lined the driveway from the main gate to the building.

Everything in this area is beautiful, thought Rohan. Well, not everything...

The only eyesore in the luxurious neighbourhood was the Hawa Mahal, an ugly, soot-stained building, from one of the windows of which Rohan was staring out. Sitting next to the Sea Palace, the hideous five-storied structure looked like it would crumble any moment. It was owned by a corrupt politician who was waiting for an opportune time to redevelop it.

Rohan wondered if the girl had a boyfriend. The thought sent a chill down his spine. He briefly imagined the guy: tall, rich and attractive, with six-pack abs. The exact opposite of himself. No, no... I'm not going to think negative. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. She's single. If there was a boyfriend, I would have seen him around.

The problem was that he was attracted to the wrong girl.

Rohan Iyer was thin, nerdy, not particularly good looking and had messy hair. Most importantly, he had no money.

It was simple. She had everything, while he had nothing. Girls like that didn't date guys like him. He worshipped her, while she didn't even know he existed.

There was only one way he could be with her. He had to be somebody. He had to do something special. And for that he needed an extraordinary idea that would bring him the start-up success he desperately craved for. Only then would she come to know about him, respect him... love him. I have to earn her love.

He already had that magic idea. It was called Troll Hunter.

*

Rohan and three of his friends – Subhrasree, Sam and Arun – had graduated from Xavier Institute of Engineering in Mahim. Instead of joining one of the companies recruiting on campus, they had launched Spook Labs, a start-up dedicated to creating original tech products and services. They were bright, talented and passionate. Yet, success had eluded them. They had spent three long years coming up with a variety of programs and apps, but nothing had worked.

The main issue was Rohan's obsession with originality. He didn't want to create another copycat start-up, no matter how much money he could earn from it. Almost all the Indian start-up success stories were copycat models that had managed to imitate foreign systems with enough tweaks to make them work locally. The people who founded these early Indian start-ups were now folk heroes. Young people wanted to be like them and 'get rich quick'. Rohan sometimes thought wryly about how the start-up scene had similarities to Bollywood's penchant for shamelessly stealing plotlines from American films and Indianizing them.

Rohan and his friends dreamt of doing something bigger. He wanted to come up with an idea that would travel the world. He wanted other countries to copy his work. But original concepts were hard to develop and venture capital funding was difficult to find for new, untested ideas.

Rohan was still staring out of the window, thinking about the girl, when he felt a tingling on the back of his neck. He turned around to see Sam, standing just inches behind him.

Rohan was startled. 'What the fuck?'

Samuel Verghese was very plump, with a small, round face. He had large, innocent eyes and short, cropped hair. He was from Kottayam, a wealthy town in Kerala, situated amid tranquil backwaters, lush paddy fields and extensive rubber plantations. His parents expected him to join the family's successful coir export business. They had sent him to Mumbai to get his engineering degree, so that the family could negotiate a good dowry for his marriage.

'That Audi girl is something!' whispered Sam reverently.

Rohan was annoyed. 'That's not her name.'

Sam seemed to be in a trance. 'She's so fucking hot...'

'Don't talk about her like that.'

'Like what?'

'Like that.'

'I don't understand.'

'Have some respect for women,' said Rohan.

Sam eyed him carefully. 'Do you want to fuck her, dude?'

Rohan was aghast. 'What... no...'

'It's stupid, you know. She's never going to even look at you...'

'Well... you don't know that,' protested Rohan.

Sam's suspicions were confirmed. 'So you do want to fuck her.'

Rohan, feeling nauseated by the conversation, changed the topic. 'Have you finished the UI for tomorrow?' he asked.

'Working on it.' Sam sighed. 'I'm struggling a little bit, to be honest...'

Sam was supposed to create a new user interface design for Troll Hunter, the program that was going to be presented by Spook Labs at the National Start-up Conference the next day. Sam was the company's art and design head.

Rohan looked at him, worried. 'Dude, we need to impress the panel tomorrow. It's got to be phenomenal!'

'I know; I know... It's just that I can't find the right balance between cool and classic. Too cool and it's unprofessional. Too classic and it's boring.'

There was a loud knock on the door. The calling bell had long stopped working in the tiny 1 BHK. The flat was in a miserable condition. The paint was peeling and the ceiling had several leaks. The roots of a tree were mysteriously growing on a wall in the hall. The only good thing was that the place cost twenty-five thousand rupees a month, which was a bargain in Bandra.

Sam opened the door. A woman in heavy make-up and a tight, short skirt pushed past him and walked into the house. She had a haughty, bored expression. She looked around the decrepit flat, cringing. 'What a horrible, disgusting place!' she murmured.

Rohan and Sam stared at her, amazed.

She looked at them. 'Well, I don't have all day.'

'Who are you?' asked Rohan, as he studied the woman carefully. There seemed to be something odd about her. Her hands were surprisingly large, her shoulders extremely broad, her legs were thick and brawny and her face rather masculine. Suddenly, Rohan realized what was wrong: she was not a woman at all!

'She's a tranny,' Sam whispered to Rohan, confirming his suspicions.

'Who are you?' Rohan asked again.

'People call me Jalebi,' said the husky voice.

Sam looked like a deer caught in the headlights. 'And why are you here?' he asked, hesitantly.

Jalebi laughed. 'Don't play coy. You know why I'm here.'

Rohan and Sam exchanged a worried glance. Jalebi sashayed around Sam, moving her hips seductively, inspecting him. 'You are a fat little tomato, aren't you? I like you. Were you the one who called me?' She ran a finger slowly down Sam's face.

Sam gulped.

The bedroom door suddenly opened and Arun walked out in his 'Winter is Coming' bath towel. Arun Gupta was short, thin and wore thick glasses. He made up for his scrawny stature by being loud and obnoxious. His parents were doctors in Lucknow, who after eighteen years of unsuccessfully trying to coax, intimidate and threaten him to study, had finally given up on him. He was the ultimate black sheep. His three elder brothers were all super achievers, who had gone first to the IITs, then the Ivy Leagues and now worked on Wall Street.

'Don't touch her.' Arun ordered Sam, irritably. 'She's mine.'

Jalebi looked Arun up and down, disappointed. She sighed and turned to Sam. 'I wish it was you, bunny rabbit.' She lightly slapped his bottom.

Sam looked at her, terrified.

'Please don't do that,' muttered Arun. 'I was the one who called for you.'

'Who exactly is this?' Rohan asked Arun.

'Who do you think that is?' he retorted, snidely.

'She's a prostitute,' explained Sam.

Rohan glared at Arun. 'What's wrong with you? Why did you call her here?'

'Fuck you, dude!' cried Arun. 'I have been killing myself these last few weeks getting the Troll Hunter coding right. I deserve some pleasure.'

'But...'

'It's none of your business who I have sex with!'

Rohan was confused. 'I didn't know you liked... I mean... are you gay? Or...'

Arun took a deep breath. 'The problem is that you guys fear her, and so, you hate her... and so you have a problem with me sleeping with her.'

'That doesn't make any sense,' said Rohan.

'Instead of getting angry with me... learn from me. This is how the art of seduction works.' Arun sauntered coolly to Jalebi, lightly lifting her hand and kissing it gently. 'Please go into the bedroom, Madam,' he crooned.

Jalebi was bewildered. No client had ever done anything like this before. She thought for a moment and then quietly walked into the only bedroom in the flat.

'This is crazy,' said Rohan, rubbing his head.

Arun strolled around the hall, smiling.

'Why aren't you going in?' asked Sam.

Arun laughed. 'I want to take my time, make you guys jealous.'

They heard the clinking of keys at the main door. Everyone froze. The door swung open and Subhrasree walked into the house. She was carrying a bag of groceries with her, looking tired and in a sour mood.

'What are you doing here?' asked Arun, aghast.

'It's my house,' muttered Subhrasree.

Arun couldn't get over his shock. All his plans would now be ruined. 'You were supposed to come back in the evening,' he complained.

Subhrasree started putting vegetables in the fridge. 'We have to prepare for tomorrow. I want us to do a few mock presentations.'

Subhrasree Dasgupta was Bengali, pretty in a geeky way, with long, curly hair and a short temper. Her father was a wealthy businessman in Siliguri. The family was very conservative and firmly believed that the sole occupation of a woman should be managing the house. They planned to get her married immediately after she finished her Masters in Mumbai. They had no idea that their daughter was the seed funder and finance head of Spook Labs. Subhrasree was using part of the monthly Mumbai expense money her parents gave her to keep the company going. She had taken the decrepit flat to cut down costs and had housed Rohan, Sam and Arun, who were basically penniless after three years of start-up life.

She glanced at the three guys and noticed their worried expressions. 'What?' she asked.

'Please don't get angry...' Arun began.

Subhrasree noticed that her bedroom door was closed. 'Who's in my room?' she asked, suspiciously.

'A... a friend,' said Arun, very carefully.

Subhrasree's voice was cold. 'Who?'

Arun wondered what to say. 'It's...'

The bedroom door suddenly opened and Jalebi stepped out. 'You now have forty-five minutes left,' she told Arun.

Subhrasree gawked at Jalebi. 'What the hell?' she mumbled.

Arun immediately tried to explain himself. 'You know, Subhrasree, I have been working non-stop...'

Subhrasree understood what was happening. She was furious. 'Are you seriously going to fuck a hooker in my bedroom?'

'It's just...'

'No!'

'Please?'

'No!'

Arun had an idea. 'What if it's not in your room?' he said, thinking of a potential compromise. 'I could do it in the hall...'

'Are you kidding me, you pervert? I allow you space in this house to run a company, not a brothel!'

Arun knew he had to convince Subhrasree somehow. He figured that if he argued long enough, maybe she would come around. 'I just thought...'

But Subhrasree would not let him speak. 'Not in my house. It's degrading. To him and to you!'

Arun narrowed his eyes. 'Wait... what do you mean?' he asked.

'I mean prostitution is fucking degrading!' she cried, angrily.

'No... what do you mean "him"?'

Everyone looked at Arun, surprised. Jalebi sighed.

'That's a he,' said Sam. 'Didn't you know?'

Arun laughed, nervously. 'She's a woman.'

'Is she?' asked Subhrasree coldly.

Arun studied Jalebi carefully. He noticed her manly features for the first time. He gulped. 'Tell me you are a woman!' he beseeched Jalebi.

'I'm whoever you want me to be,' retorted Jalebi.

Arun felt like he couldn't breathe. He glanced at Jalebi's tight skirt, his eyes searching. 'Do you have a... you know...' He couldn't get himself to finish the sentence.

Jalebi shrugged. 'Of course.'

Arun needed to sit down. He walked to a plastic chair and flopped down, rubbing his head. He realized he had come very close to having sex with a man.

Sam was curious. 'So what happens... how do you have sex?' he asked Jalebi. 'Do you like put your thing in a man's...'

'Shut up, Sam!' hissed Subhrasree. 'All of you should be ashamed.'

'You people have serious issues,' commented Jalebi. 'I'm leaving. Where's my money?'

Arun wondered what to do. Should he even pay her? After a moment's hesitation, he gave in. It was best to get her out of the house quickly. He took out money from a drawer, counted out five thousand rupees and handed it to her. Jalebi looked around at the group one last time and then sashayed out of the flat.

Subhrasree was infuriated. 'If you guys want to spend your money on hookers and booze and cigarettes while I babysit you, pay for your food and rent... I think it's time you find a new office for the company and maybe hire a transsexual receptionist, since you like them so much!' She stormed into her bedroom and banged the door shut.

Rohan, Sam and Arun were silent.

'What exactly is a transsexual?' asked Arun.

'A guy who emotionally and psychologically feels like a girl, or a girl who emotionally and psychologically feels like a guy,' said Sam.

'And a transvestite?' asked Arun.

'A person, usually a guy, but not always, who enjoys dressing in the clothes of the opposite sex,' said Sam.

Arun pondered. 'I see... so what's a eunuch?'

Sam had the answer. 'A man who has had his balls cut off.'

'I see... and a shemale?'

'A trans woman with male genitalia and female secondary sex characteristics.'

Arun was impressed. 'Wow... how do you know so much about all this?'

Sam shrugged. 'I just know.'

'So what exactly was Jalebi?' asked Rohan.

'Get back to work, idiots!' screamed Subhrasree from her bedroom.

Everyone quietly walked back to the large worktable in the centre of the hall. Arun put on some clothes and opened his laptop. Sam collected the drawings and notes lying around, trying to refocus on the user interface design. Rohan slumped on his swivel chair and looked thoughtfully up at the water stain patterns on the ceiling. He remembered the lines of a famous Eminem song:

Look, if you had, one shot, or one opportunity

To seize everything you ever wanted. In one moment

Would you capture it, or just let it slip?

Rohan was the CEO of Spook Labs. He was the leader of the group. He was supposed to keep the team motivated and raring to go. Tomorrow was D-Day. They were about to make the most important presentation of their lives. Everything came down to how prepared they were.

After three years of hard work and multiple failures, they finally had a terrific opportunity, but instead of grabbing it, they were fighting among themselves and discussing Jalebi.

Everything was a mess. He had fucked up.

# 2

The National Start-up Conference was a seven-day mega event that was being held in the JW Marriot Hotel in Juhu. Over the past few years, the interest in start-ups had exploded. It was the flashy new thing in India and everyone, from politicians to businessmen to the odd Bollywood actor, wanted to be a part of it. The promise of a pot of gold at the end of the start-up rainbow was irresistible.

There were a lot of important start-up events being hosted across the country, but the NSC was the big daddy of them all. Spook Labs had presented Troll Hunter pretty much everywhere, but the funding they required so badly hadn't materialized. The NSC was their last chance. If they didn't win the start-up competition, they would most likely have to abandon the idea that they had spent a year developing.

Rohan, Subhrasree, Sam and Arun dressed in their best formal clothes and took a cab from Bandra to Juhu. They were quiet all the way there. Everyone was nervous about the presentation. But when they reached the venue, the festive mood and the general all-around excitement lifted their mood again. There was a frenetic energy about the event and the place was teeming with students, entrepreneurs, investors and media personalities.

After getting their delegate passes, the four of them roamed about the hotel lobby, organizing their schedules for the day. Their presentation was at 5 pm, so they had time to attend other events and do a few rehearsals. The list of the day's proceedings was impressive: talks by some of the biggest names on the start-up scene, conferences, competitions, closed-door investor meets and workbench project classes focused on building hardware products.

It was not all work though. Yoga, meditation and Zumba dance sessions were to be conducted throughout the day in different parts of the hotel to help the entrepreneurs get into a better mental and physical shape. The most talked about event on the schedule was a conversation on perseverance by two Bollywood superstars. For the evening, there were stand-up comedy routines, jam sessions and dance performances planned in the hotel gardens.

*

Rohan and Subhrasree busied themselves fine-tuning their presentation, attending interesting sessions and networking. There were talks on fundraising, understanding valuations and even firing employees, that both of them found useful.

The buzzword at the NSC was 'hyperlocal'. Everyone seemed to be talking about it as it had outnumbered all other sectors in raising VC money that year. They noticed a disturbing pattern among many of the start-ups they encountered. The business plan often was to get funded, then pour all resources into hiring and expanding and then go in for new rounds of funding. Building a sustainable business did not seem a priority.

Meanwhile, Sam and Arun joined a hackathon. A hackathon was the process of fast, creative programming where the participants would form teams around an idea and then collaboratively code a unique solution. The challenge given at the NSC hackathon was the development of a working app that could create instant modern art from a collage of photos. The winning team would get two lakh rupees as prize money.

The competition was intense with more than a hundred people taking part. Arun and Sam teamed up with two Bangalore-based programmers and started the coding and designing process. They had worked obsessively for five hours and were getting close to their objective, when things suddenly went wrong. A team from a Delhi college sitting opposite them began taunting and mocking Sam and Arun as part of their PSYWAR (psychological warfare) strategy against other teams.

Sam and Arun were in the habit of listening to angry gangsta hip hop on their headphones while working. After five hours of hearing N.W.A, Mobb Deep and The Notorious B.I.G. rap about fucking everybody up, they were in an intense, hyper-aggressive, worked-up state. When the Delhi college students first started making faces at Sam and Arun, trying to distract them, they had been completely bewildered. But pretty soon their bafflement turned into rage. Arun suddenly threw away his headphones and leaped at the shocked college students.

The NSC witnessed the first ever physical fight in its history. Sam joined Arun and they began pummelling the college students, who tried to fight back valiantly, but were completely unprepared for this sudden aggression. Hotel bouncers instantly rushed in to separate the two groups. No one was seriously injured and the situation was quickly brought under control. Sam and Arun had their clothes torn up a bit, while three out of the four college students ended up with black eyes.

Both the teams were instantly disqualified from the hackathon.

*

It was 4:50 p.m. Rohan took a deep breath and steeled himself. This is it. He was standing outside the banquet hall of the hotel, where the start-up presentations were going on. The future of their company depended on their performance in the next few minutes. Troll Hunter had already made it through the first round, where it was pre-screened by a panel of experts and selected to be among fifty semi-finalists. Today was the second round. If they could make it to the group of top ten finalists, then they would be able to pitch the idea to prominent Indian entrepreneurs and venture capitalists on the last day of the NSC for the big finals.

Subhrasree smiled at him. 'Ready?'

'Yeah.' Rohan nodded.

'You'll do great,' she said, adjusting his tie.

Rohan didn't know what he would do without her. Although they fought often, she was his best friend. She had kept him going through the long, hard years of trying to get Spook Labs up and running. Despite her short temper, she was very caring and had a rather motherly, doting nature. She was fiercely protective of her friends and constantly fussed over them. She was also the smartest person he knew. He realized that he had never thanked her for everything. Somehow, this seemed the right moment.

'Subhrasree, no matter what happens today, I wanted to...'

'Where are Sam and Arun?' she asked, looking around, distracted.

'Listen, thanks for...'

Subhrasree looked horrified. 'What the hell?'

Rohan was startled. What did I do? It took him a moment to realize that she was looking behind him. He instantly swung around and stared in shock at Sam and Arun, who were sheepishly trudging towards them, looking dishevelled, their shirts torn.

'What the fuck happened to you?' asked Rohan.

'Spook Labs has enemies everywhere,' muttered Arun.

Rohan was astonished. 'What? Who?'

'You can't go onto the stage like that!' cried Subhrasree.

'Were you in a fight?' asked Rohan.

Sam nodded. 'Yes, but we kept the company's honour intact. We won.'

'Are you serious?' asked Subhrasree, fuming.

Arun was a little offended that she didn't believe they had won the fight. 'Of course, we beat them... I...'

'They started it actually...' said Sam, defensively.

Subhrasree tried to calm her breathing, relying on the pranayama lessons she had been taking. 'Just shut up before I strangle you both,' she said quietly.

Arun opened his backpack. 'Don't worry. Take my comp. Everything will be fine. It's too late for us to find new shirts. Sam and I will be off-stage. You both have to demo the prototype...' Arun froze. His eyes opened wide in terror.

'Now what?' asked Rohan, anxiously.

'The laptop's gone!' Arun whispered.

Rohan felt his heart stop. 'What?'

Subhrasree was dumbfounded. 'How's that possible?'

The four of them looked inside Arun's backpack. There was no laptop.

'When did you last take it out?' asked Sam.

Arun tried to remember. 'I put it inside after the hackathon. Someone must have... stolen it...'

'Lost something?' asked a voice.

It was one of the coders from the Delhi college group. The combination of a black eye and the malicious grin on his face gave him a rather grotesque appearance. From a distance, the other members of the college group were waving at them gleefully. It took a few seconds for Sam and Arun to comprehend what was happening.

'It's you! You have stolen the laptop!' cried Sam. He began to move towards the coder with raised fists.

Rohan grabbed Sam. 'Stop! Think. You start another fight and we'll be out of the start-up competition.'

'Search us!' said the coder, icily. 'We don't have your laptop with... us.' He strutted away from the group, very pleased with himself.

Arun was distraught. 'These monsters were prowling around after the fight... I may have left the laptop bag unattended for a minute or so...'

Subhrasree studied the college group. They were all laughing. 'Look at them. They have taken it for sure,' she said, almost inaudibly.

'We have got to complain!' cried Rohan.

'It won't help,' said Subhrasree, shaking her head. 'They are too smart to keep the laptop with themselves. The presentation is in five minutes. If we are late, we are out. There's got to be another way to get back the comp.'

Arun was seething with anger. 'What the fuck do we do?'

'I should have brought the backup hard drives,' Sam muttered, dejected.

Subhrasree closed her eyes, fighting the rising panic. This is just another problem, she told herself. I'm going to solve this calmly and logically. All she had to do was out-think the thieves. 'These guys are not from Mumbai, correct?'

Sam shook his head. 'Nope... Delhi.'

'So it's unlikely they have a car,' she said.

Arun was confused. 'What's that got to do with anything?'

'You start the presentation,' Subhrasree told Rohan, firmly. 'I'll get the laptop.'

*

The start-up competition was the highlight of the NSC. It was a standing-room only crowd that was jostling to get a good view of the presentation stage. Rohan stood nervously on the stage, looking around the huge room. He felt blinded by the harsh stage lights. When his eyes had adjusted and he could see the eager crowd staring at him, he cleared his throat anxiously. He had never been comfortable with public speaking and when he noticed the cold, judgmental eyes of the jury members sitting in the front row, he felt his hands shake a little. But he knew he had to block out the fear. Today is not about me, today is about Troll Hunter. He steeled himself for the task at hand. He stood straight, took a deep breath and began the presentation.

Armed with stats and slides, Rohan talked about a growing social menace. Trolling. It was the trend of posting abusive and inflammatory messages online to get an emotional reaction from other internet users and push extremist ideologies.

'Online hatred and abuse can be deeply painful. The thing we have to understand about it is that there is no real consequence for the perpetrators of this abuse. Imagine, I approach this lady in the front row...'

Rohan stepped down from the stage and stood in front of a middle-aged, sari-clad woman. '...and publicly, in front of all of you, call her a slut...'

There were gasps of shock from the audience. Rohan waited for a few seconds. An angry muttering began to rise in the room.

'Exactly.' Rohan smiled. 'There will be an immediate reaction. I'm going to be punished and most likely be thrown out of this room, right? But what happens if I go on Twitter, with thousands witnessing my action and do the same thing?'

He walked back to the stage. 'Nothing. I get away.'

The room was enthralled. 'The half-hearted attempts by social media companies and governments to combat online abuse has not produced any results,' he continued. 'In fact, in many cases, governments encourage their hard-core loyalists to suppress dissent by bullying and intimidation.'

People looked at each other, catching his meaning. Rohan switched to a new slide. 'This worldwide survey, the most extensive ever done, shows that more than 80 percent of online users are witness to hate attacks based on someone's race, religion, gender and sexual preference on a regular basis. In fact, shockingly, more than 25 percent users have been attacked themselves. From the point of view of the trolls and bigots, this has created a culture in which they find that there are others, who think and act like them and this social proof makes them even more vicious.'

Rohan dramatically slumped his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets. 'So what is the solution?'

He took a long pause. There was absolute silence in the room. 'Troll Hunter,' he said, softly.

'So how did we come up with our program? Well, first we studied trolls, analysed their behaviour... and soon patterns began to emerge. It's not that there are a lot of trolls, it's that a few trolls do a lot of trolling. Trolls tend to usually be super-active users. They seem be posting their hate messages constantly. It's like... trolling is their life, their passion, their purpose of existence. The hate is spread primarily through two sources: social media, like Twitter, Facebook, Reddit and through the comment section of news articles, YouTube videos, etc.'

'Have you noticed the intolerance debate going on in our country? I believe that part of the reason many people feel we are becoming more intolerant is because of the rampant online hate they see every day. The truth is that there aren't a large number of hate mongers. It's just that they are organized, hyper-active and often supported by bots. They are like internet piranhas, instantly attacking anything that doesn't fit in with their narrow worldviews.'

'But what if we had a program, something like an anti-virus scanner, that would scan the places you visit online? The program would work in the background and make a list of the most abusive, hateful users and bots by studying their trolling patterns and then automatically block them and delete their comments.'

Rohan could see that the whole room was hanging onto his every word. 'So, your social media experience would become safe and comfortable and the trolls would be made powerless.'

As he finished speaking, to his great relief, Subhrasree walked onto the stage with Arun's laptop. She set it up quickly and they both did a short demonstration of the program. It went well.

Rohan observed the jury. They all looked serious and were taking notes. He wasn't able to get a read on them, but as he stated his finishing lines and walked off the stage, Spook Labs received thunderous applause from the audience.

'The country is ready for this,' Rohan whispered to Subhrasree happily.

'No,' she grinned. 'The world is ready for this.'

*

Two hours later, right before Rohan, Subhrasree, Sam and Arun were about to head to the open bar on the hotel lawns for the evening's entertainment, the results of the start-up competition were announced. They had made it! Spook Labs was among the top ten finalists.

They jumped around in joy and hugged each other. But their excitement was dampened when they realized that they had been banned from the open bar because of the hackathon fight. They decided to celebrate elsewhere. As money was tight, they had to choose between the only two cheapish bar options available in Bandra; Yacht and Janata. They tossed a coin and decided.

Janata was located in the heart of the busy Pali Naka area. It was a noisy, crowded bar that somehow managed to attract the young, cool crowd; college students, foreigners, artists and musicians. The four of them managed to find a table on the first floor and ordered drinks. Rohan and Subhrasree went for Miller beers, while Sam and Arun got themselves Old Monk rum. They snacked on masala papads, chicken lollypops and kebabs.

Sam made the toast. 'I have taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me, so said the great Churchill. Cheers,' he chuckled.

'For Spook Labs and Troll Hunter! Cheers!' cried Rohan, as the glasses clinked.

Arun grimaced as he swallowed the strong rum. 'So how did you find the laptop, Subhrasree? You haven't told us yet.'

Subhrasree grinned. 'I'm clever that way.'

Rohan nudged her. 'Come on! What happened, exactly?'

'Well... those guys obviously wouldn't risk carrying the computer around with them. What if we had complained? As they were out-of-towners, it was unlikely that they had a car to put the laptop in. Now, hotel security is very tight in the hotel compound, so they wouldn't have been able to hide it outside. A suspicious, unattended object would have immediately led to an alert. Also, they would have had to find a proper hiding place for it and could not just have left it in one of the conference rooms, where someone might have found it and handed it over to the organizers. So it had to be hidden. You need a guest card to use the elevators that go to the top floors of the hotel, so the only place left was the ground floor. Remember the big fountain in the lobby, with lots of potted plants next to it? That seemed like the perfect hiding spot. I checked there and found the laptop.'

Everyone was impressed.

'Unbelievable, dude... this is like Sherlock Holmes stuff!' cried Sam.

Subhrasree raised her eyebrows. 'Of course, if you both hadn't been involved in the fight...'

Rohan got a call and saw that it was his mom. He knew better than to answer the call while seated in a noisy bar. She might suspect he was drinking. He ignored the call and immediately a text message popped up on the phone screen: 'We will be in Mumbai tomorrow. See you.'

'My parents are coming,' muttered Rohan, apprehensively.

'What for?' asked Arun.

Rohan shrugged. 'Work, I guess.'

He was uneasy about his parents coming to town. What if they asked to see where he was living? They would be horror-struck at the condition of the apartment. People outside Mumbai didn't realize how expensive the city was. Even a hovel cost a fortune in the city. He was also ashamed to face them as he still had nothing to show for his three years of start-up work. He knew that they were disappointed in him. Well, there's nothing to be done about that.

Rohan suddenly felt gloomy. He stared at his beer bottle thinking about his life. How long would success continue to elude him?

Subhrasree was watching him closely. She seemed to have read his mind. 'In the end, it always works out,' she told him with a smile.

He nodded at her. He took a deep breath, trying to rid himself of the depressing thoughts and ordered another beer.

*

After Janata, they got their customary after-drink Marlboro Lights from a cigarette guy on a cycle. Even though it was after one in the morning, Pali Naka junction was crowded. Rohan glared at the drunk guys racing by in their expensive cars. They all seemed young, good-looking and rich, with pretty girlfriends.

'Some people have everything,' muttered Rohan, as the four of them began walking back home.

'I hate these rich, spoilt kids,' complained Arun. 'Look at how they fucking show off in their fathers' cars. They haven't done anything with their miserable lives.'

Sam was angry. 'Well, you know what, they won't amount to anything. Just bad actors and corrupt politicians...'

Rohan shrugged. 'Actually, everything we are working for, they already have.'

'Except respect,' said Sam. 'They'll never get that.'

Arun gritted his teeth. 'Dude, no country celebrates mediocrity like we do. Of course, they are going to get all the fucking respect possible. These motherfucking assholes are going to be treated like kings all their lives. You know, the day our obsession with Bollywood and cricket ends... we'll actually make some progress as a nation!'

Subhrasree rolled her eyes. 'Do all of you have to be such angry drunks?'

After a ten-minute walk, they reached Hawa Mahal. Rohan wanted to smoke a last cigarette and sat on the steps of a tiny shop opposite their building, while the others walked up.

He was about to light his cigarette, when a silver Merc SUV stopped across the street, at the entrance gate of the Sea Palace Apartments. He stared curiously at the impressive vehicle. It was like a bird of prey, powerful and graceful. I wonder what it feels like to drive this car.

And that's when he saw the girl. She had stepped out of the car and was talking to the three people inside, two guys and a girl. Rohan couldn't clearly hear what was being said, but it looked like they were teasing her. Finally, they exchanged goodbyes and the car drove away. She then looked straight at Rohan. He stared back, open-mouthed.

'The shop is closed, right?' she asked, from across the street.

Rohan looked around him. What the fuck? Who is she talking to? It took him a few seconds to realize that she was asking about the small cigarette shop, the steps of which he was sitting on.

No sound would come out of him. 'Closed,' he croaked, with great effort. He cleared his throat. 'Shop is closed,' he said, louder.

'Any place I can get a smoke?'

He couldn't think straight. He just shook his head. Later, when he replayed the incident in his mind, he would know that he could have told her about four places within a two-kilometre radius where cigarettes were available after 1:30 am.

She turned to go into her building. 'Wait,' he suddenly called out. 'I have one.'

She was hesitant. Rohan got up and stretched out his hand, offering the cigarette to her.

'I don't want it, if it's your last,' she said.

'Yes... no... I mean... not really. You can have it,' he mumbled.

She walked across the street. When he saw her up close, he realized that she seemed very different from the cold, haughty girl he had imagined her to be when he watched her from his window. She was friendly, approachable and had an easy smile. He noticed golden streaks in her hair. She had light brown eyes and long eyelashes. Whatever perfume she was wearing was intoxicating.

'You sure?' she asked, before taking the cigarette.

He nodded vigorously. 'Yeah... it's fine... I have more inside,' he said, pointing to his building and immediately regretting it. What will she think of me now? She'll know I'm poor.

But she didn't seem to mind. 'Cool,' she said.

Rohan took out his lighter and tried to light the cigarette in her mouth. The problem was that his hands were shaking. He felt like a fool. Why am I so nervous? He said the first thing that came to his mind. 'I... I'm feeling a little cold.'

She was surprised. The temperature was a balmy 27oC. But thankfully, the cigarette finally lit. She had just taken her first drag, when her phone buzzed. Rohan noticed that it was the latest iPhone. He was amazed to see a Batman sticker on it. I'm going to die; she is so fucking cool.

'I'm coming. Just downstairs,' said the girl, into the phone, quickly handing him the cigarette. She rolled her eyes and gave him a conspiratorial smile. 'It's my mom. I have to go.'

She took a mint from her purse, put it in her mouth and hurried off.

He stared at her walking away. He saw the security guards open the entrance gate for her. For a moment, he wondered if all this had been a dream. Is it alcohol playing tricks on my mind? But when he looked at the cigarette, he saw the light mark of her lipstick on it.

He took a drag. It tasted like strawberries. He felt a sudden euphoria. She had smiled at him and he had fallen hopelessly in love.

# 3

It was 4 am. but Rohan couldn't sleep. His thin mattress was on the floor of the hall, next to the windows. Subhrasree was sleeping in the bedroom, while Sam and Arun lay snoring on a worn-out sofa-cum-bed nearby. Rohan sat on his mattress, lost in thought. He could see the girl's apartment, which was on the fourth floor of the Sea Palace and directly opposite his flat. He had noticed that the lights had gone off in her house around 2 am. The curtains were usually shut, so he rarely got a chance to peek inside. From his vantage point, he could see two rooms of the house. One, he knew, was the massive, super-posh living room. The second, he had always assumed, was the girl's bedroom. She was probably sleeping peacefully right now. He felt like a dirty creep staring at her room, but he just couldn't help it. He wondered what her life was like. What does she do? Who are her friends? What does she love? What does she hate? When was the last time she cried?

He lay back down and forcibly closed his eyes. He tossed and turned and counted sheep till 6 am, and then finally gave up on the idea of sleeping. He went out to get milk and Maggi from the small shop opposite his building where he had met the girl the previous night. He stood waiting there for some time, hoping that she would, maybe, come out for a morning jog. After half an hour of waiting and not seeing her, he went back up to his apartment.

He realized that instead of standing at the shop, stalking her, he should try becoming friends with her on Facebook. Then he could constantly comment and like her posts. No, not constantly. She'll think I'm a psycho. Once in a while. Just imagining being her friend made him giddy. And then, who knows, one day, we might even end up together.

Subhrasree was already up. Sam was brushing his teeth. Rohan made tea for everyone and then nudged a sleeping Arun with his foot.

'What?' asked Arun, grumpily.

'Wake up!' cried Rohan, loudly.

'No.'

'Dude, can you do me a favour?'

Arun groaned. Rohan didn't know if that was a yes or a no. 'I need you to go to the building next to ours and find out a girl's name.'

Arun squinted at him. 'Why?'

Rohan decided to come clean. 'I want to add her on FB.'

'Why?'

'I kinda like her.'

Arun sat up on bed. He rubbed the slaver off his cheeks. 'Which girl is this?'

Rohan grinned. 'I talked to her last night.'

An excited voice right behind Rohan made him jump. 'Is it Audi Girl?' asked Sam.

'Why do you always creep up on people?' asked Rohan, annoyed.

'Who is Audi Girl?' asked Arun.

'She lives in Sea Palace,' said Sam. 'She is an eight.'

Arun's eyes widened. 'Wow... an eight? And she drives an Audi?'

Sam nodded.

Arun was confused. 'Why would she talk to someone like Rohan?'

Sam shrugged. 'Women are strange,' he said, philosophically.

'Why is she only an eight... and not a ten-on-ten?' asked Rohan.

Sam rolled his eyes. 'Duh, because she is not Alana Blanchard.'

Rohan had never heard the name before. 'Who?'

'The only ten-on-ten woman on this planet,' said Arun, reverently.

'So can you help me?' asked Rohan. 'All you have to do is go to the watchman of Sea Palace, bribe him with a hundred rupees and extract the girl's name from him.'

'What? No,' said Arun, irritably.

'Please, dude?'

'Why don't you do it?' Sam asked Rohan.

'He's good at these things,' said Rohan. 'Besides, what if she gets to know that I was asking... it'll be weird... she'll think I'm a creepy guy.'

'Which is exactly what you are,' explained Sam.

Arun had an idea. 'I'll go and ask if you both come to the NCPA comic book film festival...'

'Sure,' said Rohan.

'...in superhero costumes.' Arun added.

'No, that's weird,' said Rohan. 'We are grown-ups.'

'Well then, fuck off.' Arun plopped down on the bed.

Sam shrugged. 'You know; I don't mind that actually.'

Rohan rubbed his head in frustration. 'Fine,' he barked. Arun grinned.

*

The main gate of Sea Palace Apartments was open, so Arun coolly strolled in. Rohan and Sam loitered outside the gate. Arun had walked only a few steps when a security guard growled at him: 'What do you want?'

Arun studied the man. Here was a problem he had not anticipated. He had expected to encounter the typical Mumbai watchman, who would usually be reed-thin, old and wizened and eager to make a buck. But the man glaring at him was built like a kabaddi player with powerful arms and overdeveloped shoulders. He wore a grey safari suit, which he knew was the uniform for most elite protection agencies.

'Well, I... um...' Arun wondered how to proceed.

Two more security guards walked towards Arun. Like a pack of hunting dogs, they swarmed around their prey.

Arun decided to take out the hundred-rupee note Rohan had given him. 'I have something for you,' he said, nervously.

The three men looked at the note blankly. No one reached for it. 'Who are you? What do you want?' asked another guard, roughly.

'I wanted to...' Arun hesitated.

'What?' barked the guard.

'There is a... a girl... who lives here...' Arun realized this was dangerous.

The men exchanged glances. They were now looking at him suspiciously, like he was a criminal. Fuck that asshole, Rohan. I better get away from here.

'Sorry...' Arun quickly turned to walk out, but a fourth man was standing at the gate, observing the conversation and blocking his path. Arun licked his lips nervously. There seems to be a battalion of these wrestlers, he thought, worriedly. The man was also big like the rest of the guards, but in plain clothes; an oversized shirt, ill-fitting jeans and boots. His drooping moustache and pock-marked face gave him a sinister appearance.

'Bhadve, kaun hai tu?' The man hissed at Arun.

'Sir, this guy was trying to find out who lives here,' said one of the guards.

So he is the boss. Arun tried to think of a way out.

'He's after a girl here, I think,' said another guard.

The boss scowled. 'He needs to be taught a lesson then. Harassing women here! Give him a good thrashing!'

Arun felt a chill run down his spine. 'What? No, no...'

One of the men removed his watch and kada, preparing to beat Arun. Rohan and Sam suddenly walked into the compound.

The security head studied them. 'Yes?'

'He is our friend,' said Rohan. 'We just wanted to meet Sonam.'

'Who?' asked the boss.

'Sonam Kapoor,' said Rohan.

The boss was surprised. 'The heroine?'

Rohan nodded eagerly. 'Yes. We saw on the internet that she lives on the 8th floor of Sea Palace. We are very big fans of hers.'

The guards looked at each other and laughed.

Rohan pleaded with them. 'Please, sir, we just want to meet her for two minutes.'

The boss looked at the three of them with contemp. 'Chutiye log... how many floors are there in this building? Count!'

'It's only six,' said Sam, looking devastated.

'So she doesn't live here?' asked Arun, clasping his head, pretending to be unhappy.

Rohan hoped Arun's overacting wouldn't give them away.

'Get out,' shouted the boss. 'Don't come back here again.'

*

The second day of the National Start-up Conference began pleasantly for Rohan and gang. Many people congratulated them for the Troll Hunter presentation. The positive response boosted their confidence.

Rohan's parents were staying at the comfortable RBI guest house in Malabar Hill. He called his mom to find out when he should visit them.

'Well, your father has meetings till 4 pm,' said his mother. 'We'll see you at the conference. We have been invited by Mr Agarwal.'

Rohan was surprised. 'You are coming to the start-up conference?'

'Yes. Siddharth is giving a speech there in the evening today.'

'Yeah... but...'

'And then we'll have dinner with them.'

Rohan was annoyed. 'What the hell? Why?'

'What do you mean why? The Agarwals are our friends. And it's important that you learn from Siddharth.'

Rohan groaned. The last person he wanted to meet was Siddharth Agarwal. I'm going to be mind-fucked tonight.

'How long will you be in Mumbai?' asked Rohan.

'We're leaving tomorrow,' said his mother.

'Are you only staying for a day?' he asked, sourly. 'I have my big presentation coming up soon.'

'We have to leave tomorrow,' said his mother. 'So if you win this competition, how much money will the conference people give you?'

'Well, it doesn't work that way. As I build the company up, I'll require a series of investments.'

'So, your salary?'

Rohan sighed. How do I explain this to her? 'I don't know. I won't be receiving a salary right now... but maybe in a year or two...'

His mother was very concerned. 'But you have been working for three years and not getting any money. What's the point? Siddharth on the other hand...'

'It's complicated, Ma. I have to go now. I'll talk to you later.'

Rohan hung up. He was sitting in the hotel lobby, next to massive windows that overlooked the gleaming Juhu beach. He thought of Siddharth Agarwal. He hated the guy. The motherfucker has always looked down on me. They had both studied in Loyola School, Chennai. Siddharth was two years his senior. Their fathers were colleagues, working for the RBI. All his life he had been compared to Siddharth.

Rohan had been rather mediocre in school, while Siddharth had consistently ranked among the top three of his class. Siddharth had also been the school captain, the winner of every elocution and debate competition he ever participated in, pretty good at games and to top it all, a good-looking guy.

After school, Siddharth had gone to IIT, Mumbai and then founded his start-up company, YesWeCopy. At twenty-seven, he was a millionaire, a published author, a VC advisor and a motivational speaker, who loved to talk about his success.

Rohan sighed. There is no way out. I have to meet him and his parents. Rohan left the hotel lobby and joined Subhrasree, Sam and Arun, who were in the banquet hall listening to a session on 'How to Pitch'.

The four of them spent the day attending various programmes and networking. By evening, they had collected over a hundred business cards and added dozens of useful contacts on Facebook.

All through the day, Rohan kept replaying his meeting with the girl, over and over again. He tried to remember every single detail of the interaction: what they had said to each other, the way she had smiled at him, her dress, her sporty watch, her yellow wristband... Unfortunately, he had been drunk and so the memory was a little hazy. He wondered if, by any chance, she had found him attractive. Maybe just a little bit? Why else would she ask him, a stranger, for a cigarette?

He cursed himself for his shaking hands and the stupid, gawking, look he had on his face the whole time she was around. He tried to analyze her character. She seemed friendly and cheerful. Though she was so rich, she had not looked down on him! I have to find out her name somehow.

He tried to compose some poetry to express how he felt. But he had no talent for it and the words just wouldn't come. So he did a Google search, found a cheesy love poem and made it his WhatsApp status. He read the lines and smiled.

I wrote your name in the sky,

But the wind blew it away.

I wrote your name in the sand,

But the waves washed it away.

I wrote your name in my heart,

And forever it will stay.

*

'You have grown so thin.' Rohan's mother complained. She was dressed in a maroon Kanchipuram sari with her thick, shiny black hair tied in a neat bun. She was short and dusky, with large eyes.

'The tie is not proper, son,' said his father, gruffly.

Rohan adjusted his tie. His father was a stately, quiet man with grey hair. He was wearing a formal jacket. Rohan introduced Subhrasree, Sam and Arun to his parents and then they went into the conference hall to listen to Siddharth Agarwal's speech.

Rohan looked around him. The crowd, mostly comprising budding entrepreneurs and college students, was in a state of great excitement. Siddharth was their hero. His weekly motivational podcasts were listened to religiously by many in the crowd, who wanted to replicate his success.

The latest Bollywood item song began to play and Siddharth ran onto the stage with a wide smile. He stood there for two minutes enjoying the thunderous applause and then did a short jig to the song. The crowd went crazy. People began to chant: 'Siddharth! Siddharth!'

Rohan was irritated by the spectacle. 'He's a clown. He should be in a fucking circus,' he whispered to Subhrasree, who was sitting beside him.

'Well, he knows how to market himself,' muttered Arun.

Subhrasree shrugged. 'Style is more important than substance these days.'

The song came to an end and Siddharth began his talk. 'Let me clarify something,' he said with a grin. 'Money is not the most important thing in the world. Love is the most important thing in the world. Thankfully, I love money.'

People laughed.

'So how did my extraordinary journey to success begin? What started it off was my passion for technology. OK, I can read your minds. You all want to ask me: "Siddharth, but where did that come from?"

'Let me tell you what happened when I was eight. I went to my mom and asked: "How come computers are so smart?' You know what she told me? She said: "Because they listen to their motherboards!"'

The crowd loved the anecdote. There were cheers.

'My mom knew what a motherboard was!' said Siddharth, with a mock-shocked face. 'A woman who liked technology! Wow. Can you imagine that? But that's where my tech love came from.'

Subhrasree clenched her teeth, annoyed at the sexism, but the crowd, almost completely made up of young men, clapped and roared with laughter.

'Do you think that really happened?' Sam asked Rohan.

'Of course not,' said Rohan. 'Remember the Boardwalk Empire line: Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.'

'Well, my parents are here,' said Siddharth. 'Let me thank them for everything.' Mr and Mrs Agarwal beamed proudly from the front row. Siddharth walked off the stage and touched his parents' feet. The crowd was pleased.

'He knows how to work the room,' said Sam.

Arun was impressed. 'Even before he has said a word about work, he has already won the crowd.'

Siddharth darted back onto the stage. 'The most common question I'm asked by my fans is why YesWeCopy? What kind of a name is that for a company? Well, it's an honest name. I admit it. I love to imitate. And I love things that are imitations. Because, with an imitation, you are bettering the original.

'There are two kinds of people in the world. The fools and the wise. The fool works for years, struggling and slogging and finally, creates a beautiful product that he believes is a work of art. But he doesn't make much money, sometimes dies poor, doesn't enjoy life and is often considered a failure by the world, at least in his lifetime. Then there is the wise man. What does the wise man do? A wise man first finds a fool...'

People cheered and applauded.

Siddharth had a sly grin. '...then he takes the fool's product, tweaks it enough to make it marketable and sells it.

'That is one approach our company employs. The second is that we find successful business systems in other parts of the world and copy it. We bring ideas that work abroad into India. I'm here to tell you that originality is overrated. Copying is great. It is the copycats who get rich.' Siddharth took a dramatic pause. 'Do you want to get rich?' he asked the audience. 'I definitely do!'

Rohan looked around him. People were hanging onto Siddharth's every word. Some were scribbling away in notepads, while others were typing his pearls of wisdom on tablets. They all buy this nonsense.

'My dream is to make India like Silicon Valley. I am a nationalist and I'll do whatever it takes to make my dream come true. Will you join me?'

'YES!' The crowd yelled.

'Will you join me?' he asked again. 'Say it louder!'

'YES!'

When Siddharth ended his speech, people cheered, applauded and swarmed around the stage to take selfies with him.

'What an inspirational young man,' said Rohan's father, emotionally. 'The country needs more people like him.'

Rohan didn't say anything.

*

The dinner with the Agarwals was at the hotel's Saffron restaurant, which was famous for its Awadhi cuisine. The warm lights, tasteful décor and sitar-playing musicians gave the place a mellow ambience. But Rohan couldn't enjoy it. He was moody and uneasy.

The Agarwals had known Rohan's parents for almost twenty years. Mr Agarwal was a tall, impressive-looking man with a stylish French beard. He was a bit of a dandy and was wearing a chic cream-coloured kurta, with embroidered Kohlapuris. Mrs Agarwal was a large, talkative woman with an arrogant, chubby face. She was dressed in a designer sari and had too much make-up on. Mr and Mrs Agarwal were in an ebullient mood. They were foodies and ordered Gilawati Kebab, Nawabi Tikka and Salmon Tikka for starters and Nalli Nihari, Murgh Khaas Handi, Malikay-e-Dariya, dals, salads and rotis for the main course.

Siddharth sat with a smug look on his face, enjoying the afterglow of the rousing speech he had just made. Mrs Agarwal was very curious about Rohan. She peppered him with questions: 'What are you doing now?', 'Do you have a steady job?', 'How much money do you make?'

The dinner went badly. Rohan felt suffocated by Siddharth's boasting and Mrs Agarwal's interrogation. He wished he had a gun to shoot himself with. After just a few minutes of conversation with the Agarwals, Rohan realized that his parents seemed to be feeling increasingly resentful, angry and embarrassed about his failures.

Mrs Agarwal tucked into her food with great relish. 'So you are among the top ten in the start-up competition, I hear...' she said between mouthfuls.

'Yeah,' said Rohan. Finally, he could talk about something he had achieved. 'The idea is–'

Mrs Agarwal interrupted him. 'Siddharth is going to be one of the judges at the finals,' she said, proudly. 'He has a lot of pull at NSC.'

Rohan studied Siddharth, thoughtfully. Is this a good thing?

Siddharth quizzed Rohan. 'Do you know what the winning start-up at last year's NSC was?'

'Zetabikes,' said Rohan.

'And the year before?'

'SmoothTravel.'

'And before that?'

'ZenMaster,' said Rohan, confidently. He'll know that I have done my homework.

'And now, what were some of the other start-ups that were in the top ten these last three years?' Siddharth asked, icily.

Rohan was flummoxed. He tried hard to remember.

Siddharth had a sly smile on his face. 'They don't exist today because none of them got funding. They were ideas that had to be abandoned. Congrats on making it to the final round of ten, but the question is will you come first... will you be the winner? Only then can you generate any interest.'

Rohan nodded, politely. He didn't want to argue.

'Who's your comparable?' asked Siddharth.

It was a standard VC question that Rohan had been dreading. 'This is an original idea,' he said. 'I don't think anyone is doing anything like this.'

'Don't mind me saying this, Rohan,' said Mrs Agarwal. 'But forget about this start-up idea. Some things are just not meant to be.'

Mr Agarwal agreed. 'You have had no real success in three years. How long will you keep trying?'

Rohan's father looked melancholic. 'That's what we have been telling him. He tried the start-up thing and he failed. Now he should get serious about life.'

'Not everyone can become Siddharth,' stated Mrs Agarwal.

Rohan noticed the gleam in her eyes. Putting me down is orgasmic for her.

'So how do you manage your expenses?' asked Siddharth.

Subhrasree, how else? 'I manage,' said Rohan, quietly.

'Don't mind me asking you, but are you still taking money from your parents?' asked Mrs Agarwal, a trace of fake indignation on her face.

'No,' said Rohan, flatly.

'Let's see if I can help you in some way,' said Siddharth pompously.

Rohan took deep breaths to stop himself from punching the guy's nose.

'Thank you,' said Mrs Agarwal to her son.

Siddharth looked serious. 'But I have to tell you, Rohan, that I'm going to be an impartial judge at the start-up finals. I can't favour you. That's not right. What I can do is act like an advisor to you, help you that way.'

'Please guide him about his career,' said Rohan's mother, bitterly. 'He never listens to us.'

After two long hours, the nightmare finally ended for Rohan. The waiter brought the bill. Siddharth wouldn't allow anyone to touch it.

'Siddharth will pay,' said Mrs Agarwal, proudly. 'He's making quite a bit of money.' She then looked directly at Rohan with a mixture of contempt and pity.

Rohan met her eyes and made a promise to himself. One day all this will change. And I'll pay you back for the way you treated me.

*

The cab stopped at Pali Naka junction. Rohan's parents hadn't said a word to him all the way. Rohan got out.

His mother gave him a tight smile. 'Take care of yourself and try to look for a job now. You have been unemployed for a long, long time.'

'Goodbye, son!' said his father.

Rohan looked at both of them. 'One day I'm going to do something that'll change the world,' he said, quietly. 'And then, you'll be proud of me.'

'Don't build castles in the air,' said his father, unimpressed.

Rohan waited for the car to drive off and then he walked along the Pali Mala Road towards his building. As he gazed at the yuppies standing outside pubs, smoking and chatting, he felt increasingly gloomy. He noticed a corporate group, three girls and two guys, laughing and teasing each other. That could have been me.

For the first time in three years the question cropped up in his mind. What if I actually fail at this? What if I never come up with a good idea? For his parents, he was a failure. Despite the years of work, he had nothing to show for it. He couldn't even pay his monthly rent.

Even if he tried going back into the corporate world, how would he be able explain his three-year absence from the labour force? 'Why do you want to join us?' the interviewer would ask. Because I failed at everything else.

When he reached his building, he briefly wondered if he should wait at the shop for the girl. But he was feeling too dejected. He didn't want to face the girl, nor did he want to go up to his flat. So he continued to walk till he reached Carter Road. He found an empty bench on a dark stretch of the promenade and sat down.

On the benches near him, couples were hugging, kissing and whispering to each other. He looked at the stars and listened to the distant waves.

He felt completely alone.

# 4

Rohan stirred. The late morning sun was hitting his face. He glanced at his phone. It was 11 am. He sat up on his mattress, looking around. He was alone in the house. There was a message on his phone from Subhrasree saying that she had gone to the NSC with Sam and Arun.

Rohan was glad they had let him sleep. He felt refreshed and full of energy. The despair of the night before was gone. He first listened to some Tony Robbins motivational audios and then went down to the shop opposite his building. He got himself a cigarette and cutting chai.

At the shop, while sipping his tea and staring at Sea Palace, an idea struck him. The night he had met her, the girl had asked him if the shop was open. Maybe she is a regular at this place.

'Does a girl from Sea Palace buy cigarettes here?' Rohan asked the shopkeeper, as casually as he could.

The shopkeeper was a grumpy old man. He just shrugged.

'She drives an Audi.' Rohan continued. 'And is very pretty.'

The shopkeeper was suspicious. 'Why do you want to know?'

Rohan thought for a moment. 'She dropped her purse last night. I want to return it,' he said, carefully.

'It's Suhana,' said the shopkeeper, busying himself with another customer. 'She comes here sometimes.'

'How do you know her name?'

The man didn't say anything. Rohan tried to hide his frustration. 'And what's her full name?' he asked, politely.

'I don't know.'

'Is she studying or working?'

The shopkeeper looked annoyed. 'Hand over the purse to the building guards and they'll give it to her.'

Rohan knew he couldn't extract any more information from the man. But, at least, he had her first name. He rolled her name on his tongue. 'Su-ha-na.' What a sweet name. He wanted to immediately log onto Facebook and find her, but he decided to first get some work done. He skipped the NSC events for the day and went to Candies to finish some freelance web design work he had undertaken and to put together the presentation for the big finals.

Candies was a charming, super-popular hangout with multiple floors, ultra-cool decor and an enchanting French-Portuguese ambience. Rohan found a secluded corner on a terrace, next to a small tree, put his headphones on and got down to work.

He had only worked for half an hour when the temptation became unbearable. He logged onto Facebook and tried to find Suhana's profile. Because he only had her first name, he had to scroll through hundreds of results. After two hours, just when he was about to give up, he finally found her.

Unfortunately, her privacy settings were high and Rohan could only see her cover and profile pictures. Her friends, status updates, photos and personal details were all hidden. The cover was a photo of her and two other girls standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. In the profile picture, she was blowing a kiss at the camera. He stared at the pictures for a long time, trying to figure out her story.

He sent her a friend request, his heart beating wildly. Jesus Christ! I'm actually going to be her friend.

He leaned back in his chair and started laughing out loud. People around him stared, but he didn't care. Life was pretty good!

*

The days leading up to the finals of the start-up competition passed by quickly. Rohan, Subhrasree, Sam and Arun spent their time attending various sessions, networking and perfecting their presentation. Rohan obsessively checked his Facebook every few minutes, hoping Suhana would accept his friend request. But even after three days, there was no response from her.

One day before the finals, Arun woke Rohan and Sam just before dawn. 'Happy Halloween!' he cried, switching on the hall lights.

Rohan looked at him, confused. 'What?'

'Well, today's the big day!' Arun yelled.

'It's tomorrow, you idiot,' groaned an annoyed Rohan, covering his face with the blanket.

'No, it's today!' Arun insisted.

Rohan squinted at his phone. It was 4:30 am. 'What the fuck is wrong with you? Tomorrow is the start-up finals!'

Arun threw a green bundle at Rohan. 'Change into this!' he said, full of happiness.

Rohan picked it up, staring at it in confusion. It took him a few seconds to realize what it was.

'Oh, no!' Rohan grumbled, glaring at the spandex Hulk costume, complete with fake, bulging muscles. 'I'm not going to your stupid film festival.'

'You promised,' said Arun, coldly. 'Don't be such a whiny little bitch.'

Rohan sat up in bed. 'What the fuck, man? We should be at the NSC today. Tomorrow is the big day–'

'Don't worry about it. Subhrasree will be there representing Spook Labs. She'll keep us updated. You gave me your word, dude. I was almost beaten up because I asked for the stupid girl's name!'

'Don't call her stupid!'

Sam yawned. He was lying on the sofa-cum-bed, listening to the argument.

Subhrasree stepped out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes. 'What the hell? Why are you making so much noise?'

'He wants me to watch movies with him instead of being productive at NSC,' complained Rohan.

Subhrasree shrugged. 'Well, there's nothing much happening today.'

'I know,' said Rohan. 'But tomorrow is...'

'Actually, it might be good for you to take a break. You'll be charged up for tomorrow,' she said, thoughtfully.

'But...'

Subhrasree looked at the green costume in Rohan's hands. 'And I get to see you in that ridiculous outfit.' She grinned.

*

Despite Rohan's misgivings the comic book film festival actually turned out to be a lot of fun. They were not the only geeks in town and NCPA was packed with people in superhero costumes. They watched Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, Iron Man 2 and The Avengers back to back. Every cool scene was greeted with hoots, claps and shouts from the audience, some of whom knew the movies by heart and chanted the dialogues along with the films.

Arun had bought the costumes online after an intense search and they were well-made. Rohan was dressed as the Hulk in a green and violet costume with fake, bulging muscles. Sam was Thor, with a large plastic hammer, blonde wig and red cape, while Arun was Iron Man, in a red and golden get-up, with a carefully crafted plastic mask that had lights on it.

After the event ended at 6 pm, they chilled for a little bit at Marine Drive, walking along the boulevard, watching the sun set. In their costumes, they presented an extraordinary sight and soon began to draw a curious crowd. People wanted photos with them. They felt like celebrities and enjoyed the attention.

After Marine Drive, they went to Pizza by the Bay. It was a pleasant restaurant with an attractive white interior. The manager was reluctant to let them in at first. But after a few minutes of arguing, they managed to get in and find comfortable window seats. They couldn't afford the drinks, so they shared a BBQ pizza.

It was 10 pm by the time they returned to their building. They had just stepped out of the taxi, when the strangest thing happened. One of the security guards of Sea Palace, who was standing nearby, smiled at them. Rohan stared at the man, amazed. Sam and Arun exchanged a confused glance.

'Sir, the party is on the 4th floor,' said the man, respectfully.

Rohan, Sam and Arun gawked.

'W... what?' asked Rohan.

The man gestured towards the Sea Palace entrance gate. 'Please go inside, sir.'

'It's some kind of trap,' whispered Arun.

Another car stopped nearby and a couple stepped out. They were dressed like pirates. The guard smiled deferentially at them. 'Good evening, sir. Good evening, ma'am.'

The haughty couple ignored the guard, barely even bothering to look at him and walked into Sea Palace.

'OK, I get it... there must be a Halloween party going on inside,' said Sam.

Rohan nodded. 'The guard thinks we are guests because of our costumes!'

Arun was suddenly super excited. 'Let's crash it. There may be drinks.'

'I don't know,' said Rohan, hesitantly.

The guard was now looking at them very thoughtfully.

'Quick, before he recognizes us,' hissed Arun and walked confidently towards the Sea Palace gate.

Rohan and Sam exchanged a glance and then followed him.

*

They trailed the pirate couple to the apartment lobby. The guards standing near the building entrance nodded at them politely. The lobby was impressive; the floor was chequered like a chessboard, a massive chandelier sparkled from the ceiling and there were exquisite, antique lamps all around.

They stood admiring the place for a few seconds and then took the fancy elevator to the fourth floor. There was a jack-o'-lantern outside an apartment. The door was not locked and they pushed it open.

Inside, a raucous party was going on. The living room was enormous and the décor was minimalistic. The neatly arranged sofas, tables and carpets were all white. Even the curtains and walls were white. LED lights glittered from the walls. A large sign, hanging from the wall, read 'Happy Halloween'. There was a large crowd of goblins, trolls, witches, angels, Harry Potter characters, dwarfs, superheroes and monsters.

A DJ was playing EDM from a makeshift podium. A few people were dancing. Rohan tried to make a mental map of the location of the apartment. Can it be?

Rohan walked towards one of the windows and glanced out. He saw Hawa Mahal. His suspicions were confirmed. He was in Suhana's house. At first, he could barely contain his excitement, but then a worrying question popped up in his mind: what if she saw him? She would be shocked that he had sneaked into her house! She would think he was a cheap, fucked-up, stalker-type guy.

He knew he should leave, but he was too enthralled. This was a peek into her life, something he had desperately craved for. The things he couldn't see on Facebook, he could study now. He could observe her friends, her behaviour, her house... and piece together her story. As long as she didn't see him, everything would be fine.

Sam and Arun disappeared into the crowd. Rohan wandered around, looking at the paintings on the walls. There were works from some great Indian contemporary artists: MF Hussain, Syed Haider Raza, Francis Newton Souza. Are they real or imitations? He glanced at a bookcase with a collection of photography and film books. Her family is not just rich; they have excellent taste. Would her parents be fine with a noisy party in the house? They must be out of town.

His heart was beating too fast and his palms were sweaty. Rohan realized he needed to get a drink to calm his nerves and process what was happening. The dining table served as the bar counter and a girl dressed as Catwoman was bartending.

He had just got himself a beer when he heard a voice: 'I know you.'

Rohan turned to see Suhana standing next to him. He froze. He stared at her stupidly. She looked spectacular. She was dressed like an elven queen from The Lord of the Rings. She was wearing a velvety corset gown with long tight-fitting sleeves. The elaborate tiara on her head sparkled in the light. She really does look other-worldly.

'Hi,' said Rohan, timidly.

'You're the guy who gave me a cig.'

Rohan nodded. I need to be cool and charming. He cleared his throat, desperately trying to think of something witty to say.

'What are you doing here?' she asked.

Rohan looked at her, blankly. 'What?'

'You are in my house.'

'I am a friend...'

Suhana looked confused. 'Huh?'

'Of a friend... of a friend... of yours,' he said, nervously.

She was surprised. 'Really? Who?'

Rohan was trapped. What was he to say now? But luckily for him, at that moment, one of Suhana's friends wanted a selfie with her. After taking a couple of pictures with the girl, she turned to him again.

'So what do you do?' Rohan asked her quickly, changing the subject.

Suhana leaned over and picked up a newspaper from the bar counter. She slid it towards Rohan. On the front page was her picture, in a jewellery advertisement.

'Wow. So you're a model,' said Rohan. 'I would have never guessed.'

'Why? Am I not pretty enough?'

'You are too nice,' he said, quietly.

They looked at each other for a moment.

She cleared her throat. 'Oh, OK...'

'Do you keep this paper around to show everyone?' asked Rohan, with a smile.

She laughed. 'Don't be silly. The photographer was a friend and he forced me to do that ad. I couldn't be less interested in modelling,' she said, rolling her eyes. 'I work for my dad. I run my family's philanthropic foundation.'

Rohan was mesmerized listening to her. Could anyone be more perfect?

'So what do you do?' she asked.

'Destroy things,' he said, matter-of-factly. 'I'm the Hulk.'

She laughed. 'I like your costume.'

'And I like yours,' he grinned.

Now that his initial nervousness was gone, Rohan realized that talking to her was fun and easy. If circumstances were different, if we were in the same social circle, we would have been good friends.

A handsome guy suddenly stepped between them. 'You forgot your drink,' he told Suhana, handing her a half-finished Corona pint.

She smiled at him. 'Thanks.'

Rohan instantly disliked the guy. There was a trace of smugness in his sharp, finely-chiselled face. He was tall, well-built, very fair and had a lazy swagger about him. He looked imposing in his Roman legionary's costume.

The guy put his hand around Suhana's waist and gave her a lingering kiss on the neck. 'Come on, baby. Let's dance.'

Rohan's heart sank. He felt a piercing pain. He stood like an idiot gaping at them. So she isn't single, after all.

Suhana seemed a little flustered. 'I'll see you around,' she said to Rohan awkwardly.

Rohan mumbled something incomprehensible and stared after her as she disappeared into the crowd. His head was spinning. He walked to the nearest couch and plopped down. He gulped down his beer and looked around. This is not a world I belong to. And I never will. He cursed himself for imagining he could ever be with someone like her.

A girl walked in from the sprawling, open-air balcony. 'It's begun raining!' she shouted. 'We are all going outside. Let's go... let's go, come on guys!'

There were whistles and shouts. The crowd moved to the spacious balcony, pulling the more resistant partygoers along with them.

The DJ put on Louis Armstrong's 'What a Wonderful World'. Rohan looked out from the large window panes. Water was dripping over the glass, making beautiful patterns. He sat on the couch, staring at the shrieking crowd, dancing in the rain. The newspaper Suhana had given him was still in his hand. The room was suddenly empty. He felt very alone.

Rohan saw the crowd swaying to the slow, beautiful music. Sam and Arun were nowhere to be seen. Near the edge of the balcony, beside an ornate lamp, Suhana and the guy waltzed to the music. The rain was pouring down and her hair was dripping wet, sticking to her face. The light from the lamp made her glow. It was an image he would remember for the rest of his life. He had never seen anyone more beautiful.

Rohan turned away from the window. He couldn't be there anymore. He quickly walked out.

# 5

The Troll Hunter presentation at the NSC start-up finals went well. It was a private session with entry only for selected VCs and investors. After the presentation, Siddharth Agarwal, who was one of the jury members, had congratulated them on their idea. Rohan had realized that Siddharth was genuinely impressed.

Rohan, Subhrasree, Sam and Arun sat on the hotel lawns, waiting for the results to be announced. Despite Siddharth's enthusiasm for their idea, they were all quiet and nervous. This was their big moment. Everything depended on what happened next. If they won, their lives would change. Funds would come pouring in and Troll Hunter would most likely become a global product. The success of Troll Hunter would help them push their other ideas and Spook Labs could become a company to be reckoned with. Siddharth Agarwal was on the jury and Rohan wondered if he would help them win.

Despite the excellent presentation he had made, Rohan was moody. He knew his obsession with Suhana had to end. It was a strange thing to be in love with someone he barely knew. Before last night, his one-sided love affair had been mostly enjoyable. He liked to think of her when he woke up. He liked to think of her when he went to sleep. He enjoyed imagining detailed scenarios of them together: binge-watching House of Cards, dancing at Trilogy, walking hand-in-hand along the Bandstand promenade, getting coffee at Candies and beers at Toto's. But now, things had turned ugly. Ever since he found out about her boyfriend, or lover, or whoever that guy was, he felt betrayed and miserable.

Last night had been one of the worst of his life. He hadn't been able to sleep at all. He had gone to his building terrace and had sat there staring at the stars. The party at Suhana's place had ended around 2 am and Rohan had wondered if her boyfriend would spend the night at her place. If her parents weren't home, why wouldn't he? Rohan had felt sick to his stomach. The curtains of her room had been shut and he had no idea what was happening inside. He had paced around the terrace in a helpless frenzy, the suffocating pain unbearable. Despite all his efforts, he hadn't been able to stop himself from imagining the guy hugging her, holding her, kissing her...

Rohan had then compared himself with the boyfriend. The guy had everything going for him. The guy was good-looking. He was not. The guy was most likely very rich. He was not. The guy was cool. He was not. Why the fuck would Suhana be interested in him?

The night had somehow passed and at dawn, Rohan went for a long walk to Carter Road. The rumble of the waves, the strong breeze and the early morning sun dulled some of the pain. Thankfully, the start-up finals distracted him and kept her temporarily off his mind.

But now, as he waited for the competition results in the hotel gardens, the pain began creeping back slowly. Rohan was reflective as he looked up at the golden flowering buds of the Copper Pod tree they were sitting under. He realized he had made a mistake. I should never have fallen in love with her.

A girl with the organizing team walked up to them. 'Hi guys. You're requested to come to Business Suite 1.'

'Why?' asked Rohan, his heart beating very fast. Business Suite 1 was where the jury was deliberating. Have we won?

The girl shrugged. 'I don't know.'

Sam said a silent prayer. 'Is everyone thinking what I'm thinking?' he whispered.

'Fuck me!' Arun hissed. 'We have done it.'

Subhrasree smiled. 'Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!'

*

There were three people sitting at a long conference table in Business Suite 1. Siddharth Agarwal and with him, two powerful industry heads, Tanvir Mittal and Varun Arora, men in their late forties, who were the original founders of the National Start-up Conference. Rohan was surprised. He had expected the full six-member jury.

'Hi, Rohan,' said Siddharth, with a smile. 'Congratulations on Troll Hunter. It's wonderful work by your team!'

Subhrasree, Sam and Arun beamed, but Rohan sensed something was wrong. It was the way Siddharth was looking at him. Behind his polite smile, he seemed to be scheming, shrewdly. Am I just imagining things?

'Have we won?' asked an excited Arun.

'Oh, no!' said Siddharth.

'What?' asked Subhrasree, taken aback.

Siddharth let his face fall, feigning sympathy. 'The idea is brilliant, you would have won, but it's too political, so no...' he said, sadly.

Rohan was astonished. 'What's political about it?'

'The NSC can't be seen to act in any way against the Government,' explained Siddharth.

'I don't understand,' said Rohan. 'Our program is a tool to keep internet trolls away. How is that political?'

'You know, the NSC needs political support to thrive and Troll Hunter would stop a lot of, um, publicity and marketing efforts by the Government.'

'You mean pushing their ideology,' said Subhrasree, icily.

'Siddharth, this just doesn't make sense,' said Rohan, passionately. 'Fuck the Government. The whole point of a start-up is to change the status quo. How many successful start-ups has any government in any part of the world launched? None! It's always the outsiders, the college dropouts, the people who work outside the system, who come up with ideas that change the world.'

Siddharth was unimpressed. 'I don't need a lecture from you, Rohan.'

Rohan didn't stop. 'It's no coincidence that Apple came out of counterculture-era San Francisco. Distrust of authority is essential to expanded thinking. All inventions are acts of dissent against the established order. Look at Silicon Valley...'

Siddharth was getting angry. 'Look around you. This is India, not Silicon Valley and it never will be...'

Rohan narrowed his eyes. 'That's not what you said in your speech.'

'Of course not,' said Siddharth, contemptuously. 'It's called good PR.'

'You are such a fraud,' said Rohan, quietly. 'One day, people will see through you...'

Siddharth stood up, furious. 'Enough!' he screamed.

There was silence. Rohan gritted his teeth, controlling his temper.

'So why are we here?' asked Subhrasree, changing the topic.

Siddharth took a deep breath and composed himself. 'I'm making you a proposal. Sell me Troll Hunter. I want to tinker with the idea a little and take it to China. They'll make it part of their Great Firewall. The Communist Party can use it to control the online discourse, weed out ideas dangerous to them.'

'What? No!' cried Rohan.

'You need the money,' said Siddharth. 'How long will you live in poverty? Think about the pain you are putting your parents through.'

Understanding dawned on Rohan. 'I'm the fool in your story,' he muttered.

Siddharth was confused. 'What?'

'The wise man finds a fool... remember?'

'I'm giving you an opportunity. Grab it.'

Rohan nodded at Subhrasree, Sam and Arun. 'We're done. Let's go.'

But Siddharth wasn't done. 'You can quietly sell me your idea or I'll have you blacklisted from every conference. No investor will work with any of you... ever.'

Subhrasree was seething. 'Blacklisted for what? Are you out of your mind?'

'For the fight you got into a few days back...'

'What fight?' she asked, shocked.

Siddharth had a sly grin on his face. 'The fight during the hackathon.'

'That was nothing,' protested Sam.

'It's the way I present it. I'll make you all monsters, irresponsible and dangerous. I'll say you tried to bribe me. These two respectable men will be the witnesses. Will people believe you or us?'

'I'll never sell my idea to you!' said Rohan, firmly. 'Do what you have to do.'

The four of them walked out.

*

Rohan slowly swivelled around and around in his creaky chair, a beer in hand. Sam and Arun, both quite drunk, gazed blankly at the half-finished Old Monk bottle on the table. Subhrasree scribbled away on a notepad, trying to organize her thoughts. They were sitting around the worktable in their flat, feeling very low.

Subhrasree broke the silence. 'In the end, it always works out,' she said, trying to cheer the group.

Arun laughed derisively. Rohan just looked blankly at her. A part of him wanted to keep the company going, no matter what, but he was feeling too overwhelmed by their repeated failures. Spook Labs has been nothing but a disaster. The start-up life was just not for him anymore. Rohan felt numb. He didn't have the energy to fight. Maybe it was never meant to be. His dream was dead and a gaping emptiness was now growing in his heart. He would have to find something else to do with his life.

He gritted his teeth as he recollected the meeting with Siddharth Agarwal. He hated the guy with a furious passion and imagined slowly choking him to death with his bare hands. What an amoral piece of shit! He knew Siddharth Agarwal would ensure they were blacklisted. It meant that investors would now be reluctant to bet any money on his ideas. Spook Labs would become a pariah and die a slow death. Why not shut the company down now and get it over with?

'We close Spook Labs tonight,' said Rohan, quietly.

'But... we can't give up,' protested Subhrasree.

Rohan shook his head. 'No, it's over. I can't take it anymore, Subhrasree.'

'I agree with Rohan,' muttered Arun. 'You know; we were idiots to dream.'

'I'm sorry,' said Rohan. 'I promised you guys a lot. We lost three years because of my stupidity. If it wasn't for me, you would have better lives now.'

Sam sighed. 'It's not your fault, dude. We all knew what we were getting into.'

'So what happens now?' asked Subhrasree.

'There is nothing for me here,' said Sam. 'My parents have been badgering me to get back to Kerala. That's what I'll do.'

Arun poured more rum into his glass. 'I'm going to have to find a real fucking job.'

'And you?' Subhrasree asked Rohan.

He shrugged. 'I don't know.'

Rohan felt depressed. He wanted to be by himself and so, took his beer up to the building terrace. The moon was shining brightly. There was a slight chill in the strong November breeze. He sat in his usual spot, an old, half-broken rocking chair someone had left behind years ago.

Now that Spook Labs was shutting down, Rohan knew he couldn't stay with Subhrasree. So where will I go? What will I do? He didn't have any savings. How was he to survive till he found a job? He flirted with the idea of going back to Chennai. Mumbai was too expensive and somehow, he had already begun to associate his start-up failure with living in the city. His eyes filled with tears. What did I do wrong? I worked so hard. So why didn't I succeed?

He got up and began to pace around the terrace, restlessly. It was then that he noticed that, for once, the blue curtains of Suhana's bedroom were open. Rohan gazed at the room curiously. It was spacious and neat. There were stylish lamps in the corners, a plush, brown leather couch, a large sturdy study table and a king-sized bed with yellow and blue pillows.

As Rohan stared, Suhana walked in. I was right. It is her room. She was wearing a casual top and jeans. His heart started beating very fast. To his great dismay, her boyfriend walked into the room after her. The guy looked dashing in his stylish retro shirt and dark brown pants. Suhana sat on the couch while the guy paced around the room. They both seemed to be talking quite animatedly about something.

Rohan sighed. Some people have everything. Love, happiness, money...

As he looked at Suhana, a disturbing question popped up in his mind: is she also about to go out of my life? Ever since he had first seen her, a part of him knew he had a chance with her because he was going to be somebody, he was going to do something special. But now, that was no longer a realistic possibility. He would have to get a regular job, be like everybody else. A cog in a machine. Why would she date such a person? He would not be interesting enough for her. Am I to lose everything I love?

It seemed that Suhana and the guy were having an argument. Rohan wished he could hear what they were saying. The guy suddenly stormed out of her room, while she sat listlessly on the couch, looking at her hands.

Rohan felt panicky. He knew he would move out of Subhrasree's place in a few days. I might never see Suhana after tonight. She'll never know I love her. It would be such a pity. He desperately wished he could tell her how he felt.

Suhana walked out onto her balcony. She leaned on the railing, looking up at the stars. Rohan noticed she had a bottle in her hand. Wine, maybe? She took a swig from it. She looked forlorn and lonely and Rohan desperately wanted to hug her. Rohan wondered if she could see him standing on the terrace in the moonlight. But even if she could, would she recognize him in the dark?

What if this is the last time I see her? If only there was some way to talk to her... one final time. He racked his brains. Her security guards wouldn't allow him to walk up to her house, he didn't have her phone number and she wasn't responding to him on social media. He could shout from the terrace, but that might just end up creeping her out.

Suhana's hair was blowing lightly in the wind. The small chandelier on her balcony lit her up beautifully. The night mist seemed to be making a halo around her. Rohan wanted to say goodbye. He needed some kind of closure. But there was no way to talk to her.

I wish there was an app that could ping people nearby and...

Rohan froze. His mind was whirling. An idea had started taking shape. Suhana walked back into her bedroom and closed the curtains.

Rohan ran down to his flat. Sam was playing a game on his phone. Arun had dozed off. Subhrasree was moodily eating her dal-rice.

'Guys! Listen!' said Rohan, excitedly.

No one bothered to look at him.

Rohan shook Arun. 'Wake up, dude!'

Arun didn't stir. Rohan grabbed a bottle of water from the table and emptied it on Arun.

Arun woke up with a start. He was confused at first and then furious. 'What the fuck?' he shouted. 'I'm going to kill you!'

'Kill me if you have to,' said Rohan. 'But first... listen to me...'

Rohan hurried to a white board hung from the wall. He started scribbling away on it.

'What are you doing?' asked Subhrasree.

'Listen, Sam, let's say you walk into a nice café and get yourself a coffee,' said Rohan, passionately, barely able to contain his excitement. 'At a nearby table is a cute girl... you want to talk to her... And to your great surprise, she looks at you, maybe she even gives you a slight smile. There is a moment of magic. Has it ever happened to you?'

Sam shrugged. 'Yeah. So what?'

'Now what happened next?' asked Rohan. 'Did you go and talk to her?'

'Of course not,' muttered Sam.

'You can't just go up to a girl and talk to her,' said Arun, flatly. 'She might slap you, or scold you, or ignore you...'

Rohan walked around the room. 'We are naturally hesitant when it comes to talking to strangers, aren't we? It's like we've been trained by society to avoid any unnecessary public contact. Abroad, it's impolite to even look a random person you see on the street in the eye.'

Sam studied Rohan carefully. 'So?'

'Everyday thousands of people around the world see someone they like and want to talk to... but just don't. We worry about the rejection,' continued Rohan.

'Where are you going with this?' asked Subhrasree.

'Now suppose there was an app that lets you connect to anyone nearby. Without phone numbers! You see someone and you connect to them instantly and chat with them on the app. If the chat goes well, you get up and walk over. How cool is that?' Rohan grinned.

Sam sat up straight, his bleary eyes now blazing with eagerness. 'It's brilliant, dude, but not practical. How do you connect two people in the same room without them having each other's phone numbers? For them to text or WhatsApp or Snapchat, they'd need each other's phone numbers.'

Subhrasree put her food aside. 'How about GPS?' she asked, enthusiastically. 'If we know the GPS co-ordinates of two people, we can connect them.'

Arun shook his head. 'No, right now GPS technology cannot pinpoint your exact location. And definitely not to within a few feet.'

'I have the answer to that,' Rohan smiled. 'Bluetooth.'

Arun jumped up. 'That's possible. Yes, of course that's possible.'

'So, in the coffee shop scenario, Sam sees the cute girl and opens the app,' said Rohan. 'The app searches for... maybe other profiles in the immediate vicinity through Bluetooth... he sees the girl's profile... assuming she has the app installed and has created a profile with a picture. Now Sam pings her. She checks out Sam's picture, looks at him sitting nearby and decides to accept his ping. And then they chat on their phone... if it goes well, he walks over to her table and has a coffee with her...'

Sam closed his eyes, blissfully. 'And then we go to her flat and make sweet love.'

Arun grinned. 'If I had such an app, I would hit every coffee shop, bar and club in the city. Just sit in a corner and see who likes me. It's fucking awesome.'

Rohan laughed. 'This will change dating as we know it.'

'It's so much more than just that,' said Subhrasree. 'This is connecting people. We can make the app sophisticated, provide privacy settings, maybe only people of a certain age or having certain tastes will be able to ping you. The question is how much will it cost to develop?'

Arun shook his head. 'Nothing. We'll do the coding and designing ourselves.'

Subhrasree nodded. 'But won't we need investors for the marketing? Who's going to invest money in our company after the NSC nonsense?'

'Fuck the investors!' cried Rohan. 'Fuck the motherfucking system. If we get blacklisted, so what? We develop the app and we put it in online stores. You know what, let's fight one last time... and if we fail, if the app fails... fuck it... we tried, didn't we? We had the fucking balls to put everything into an idea!'

Everyone nodded sombrely.

Sam was deeply moved. 'So be it,' he muttered.

'What will we name this app?' asked Subhrasree.

'HI STRANGER,' said Sam.

Subhrasree nodded. 'Not bad, but it lacks a punch.'

Arun rubbed his chin. 'Then we add an exclamation mark.'

Rohan wrote the words on the board: HI STRANGER!

They looked at each other and grinned. 'Perfect,' said Subhrasree.

# 6

Their work on the app progressed rapidly. The four of them barely left the house and worked most nights, driven by a feverish excitement. In just two weeks' time, they had a prototype of HI STRANGER! ready.

Rohan realized that going through all the failures and challenges of the past three years had prepared Spook Labs for the task at hand. They were able to easily handle the various coding and design issues that came up during the development process.

It was evening. The setting sun bathed the room in golden light. With headphones blaring Nirvana, Sam and Arun were fine-tuning the prototype, getting it ready for the planned field tests later that day. Subhrasree was scribbling away in her notebook, scheduling a social media campaign to promote the app.

Rohan was taking a break from work, enjoying his Parle-G dipped in tea, pleased with the progress they had made. He had not seen Suhana in the past two weeks. The curtains in her windows had remained closed and his tight work schedule meant he couldn't spend much time staring into her compound from their window. But once in a while, he would catch himself daydreaming about her.

He had wondered if, maybe one day, she might actually use his app! It was an intoxicating idea and it fuelled him to work harder and bring HI STRANGER! as close to perfection as possible.

There was a loud knock on the door. The water guy is here, thought Rohan. He took out ninety rupees, split the cost among the group members on the Splitwise app on his phone, grabbed the empty 20L Bisleri bottle from the kitchen and walked to the door. He opened the door and stood gaping for a few seconds.

There was a large, black woman standing with her arms crossed. She was wearing ethnic West African clothes, a bright yellow and purple dashiki with an elaborate cloth hat. The woman looked about her in disgust. 'This place is out of a horror movie,' she said, wrinkling her nose.

Rohan scowled. 'Not again,' he muttered.

The woman was annoyed. 'Excuse me? What do you mean?'

Rohan sighed. 'Let me guess. You are here for Arun.'

'Yes. Please inform him I have come!'

Rohan shook his head. 'No.'

The woman was irritated. 'What?'

'I said no.' Rohan shut the door.

As he turned away, there were furious bangs on the door. Sam and Arun took off their headphones. Subhrasree looked up from her notebook.

'Who was that? What's the noise?' asked Sam.

'Dude, you have got to stop bringing prostitutes here,' Rohan told Arun sternly. 'I know, I know... you're going to say that you have been coding intensely for two weeks and need some fun... blah-blah-blah...'

Arun was confused. 'What the fuck are you talking about?'

'Hey, is it a tranny or a woman this time?' Sam's curiosity was piqued.

The knocks were getting louder. Small pieces of cement started falling from the ceiling onto the worktable. 'Open it before the house comes down,' said Subhrasree, crossly. 'Ask your prostitute to leave, Arun!'

'But I didn't call a prostitute!' grumbled Arun.

Rohan walked to the door, opened it and shouted at the woman. 'No whores allowed here, sorry! Go away!'

The woman suddenly punched him in the face. She was powerfully built and Rohan went stumbling back, completely shaken from the unexpected assault. The woman stepped into the house.

'What despicable behaviour! Is this any way to treat a guest?' she demanded.

Arun quickly got out of his chair, beaming. 'Mademoiselle Ornella!'

'C'est des conneries!' cursed Ornella in French. 'Your friends have no manners, Arun.' ((PLEASE CHECK THE FRENCH))

'Please sit, mademoiselle and forgive my uncouth friends as they have no intelligence, culture or courtesy,' said Arun, sadly.

Ornella sat down haughtily at the worktable, looking at the peeling walls with a mixture of horror and fascination. Subhrasree and Sam stared at her, while Rohan rubbed his face angrily.

She took out a MacBook from her bag and opened it. 'I liked the website,' she told Arun. 'But, darling, we need to make a few changes.'

Arun walked to the fridge and took out Rohan's last Miller pint and gave it to Ornella.

'That's mine,' Rohan complained, resentfully.

'What a vulgar animal,' hissed Ornella, glaring at him, darkly. 'I should punch him again.'

'Who are you, ma'am?' asked Subhrasree.

'I met sweet Arun a couple of weeks ago,' said Ornella. 'He has been kind enough to help me set up a website for my NGO.'

Rohan, Sam and Arun often did freelance work to make some extra pocket money. But Rohan had his suspicions. 'Is this a paid job?' he asked.

'No,' said Arun, uncomfortably.

'Why are you doing this then?' asked Sam.

'Because I want to,' said Arun, quickly. Too quickly.

'Don't you have other work?' Subhrasree asked him.

'We all know why he is helping!' muttered Rohan, standing as far from the table as possible. 'What he expects to get.'

Ornella gritted her teeth. 'Should I come there?' she snarled threateningly.

Rohan shut up and sulkily went to get some ice for his face. He WhatsApped the gang in their house group:

505, HAWA MAHAL HOVEL

Rohan: What the hell? Why is she here? We should be working on our app,

not wasting time with this fucking woman. Arun, you asshole,

ask her to leave. NOW!

Sam: Hmmm... I wonder how long she is going to be here.

Subhrasree: Leave her alone and get back to work, guys.

Rohan: She fucking punched me!

Sam: You shouldn't have called her a whore. Wait a minute... do I know

her????????

Sam put his phone down and studied Ornella carefully. She happened to look up and catch his stare. 'What?' she demanded.

'I have seen you somewhere,' said Sam, thoughtfully.

'Of course, you have.'

'Where?'

'You know where.'

Sam racked his brains. He got the answer. 'At the Halloween party! At Sea Palace!' he beamed. 'You were a black mermaid!'

Ornella raised her eyebrows. 'A black mermaid?'

'You looked gorgeous,' said Sam, hastily.

Rohan was suddenly very interested. 'Wow,' he muttered involuntarily, a torrent of thoughts racing through his mind.

Ornella looked at Rohan like he was a cockroach. 'Why is that creature speaking?'

'Because I want to apologize for my bad behaviour,' said Rohan, a little warily.

She looked at him, suspiciously.

'I'm sorry for being such a moron. I was despicable!' cried Rohan, earnestly.

'Hmmm...'

'I deserve to be punched and kicked and beaten with... with big sticks...'

'Hmmm...'

'I ask you to forgive me, mademoiselle. Please!'

Ornella was pleased by Rohan's grovelling. She brightened considerably. 'Behave better next time,' she said, coldly.

'Of course, I will.' Rohan bowed his head, respectfully. Subhrasree, Sam and Arun were gawking at him, astonished.

'You looked very beautiful at the party,' continued Rohan. 'Um, how do you know Suhana?'

'She's a friend,' said Ornella, casually.

'Really?' Rohan felt his heart race. He could get more information about the girl he loved! 'She has a boyfriend, correct?'

Ornella nodded. 'Well, yes... why?'

'How long have they been together?'

'Why are you so interested in her?'

'She seemed like a nice person... I'm just curious.'

Arun coughed. 'Just curious, eh?'

Ornella laughed at Rohan. 'Don't tell me you are interested in her, darling.'

Rohan frowned. 'Why are you laughing?'

'Well, you aren't her type,' she said.

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'Have you met her boyfriend?'

'Yeah.'

Ornella shrugged. 'There you go.'

Rohan grimaced. Fuck you, bitch!

'But, I think they are having relationship troubles,' she shrugged. 'I'll probably see her tomorrow, so will get to know the latest.'

'Is there another party at her place?' he asked, curiously.

'No, darling. We usually meet up at Bungalow 9 on Thursdays. She should be there.'

Rohan paced around the house like a caged tiger. Here was an opportunity he had to grab. I'm going to tell Suhana how I feel. He made the decision. He would go to Bungalow 9 tomorrow. He would pretend they had met coincidentally. And then he would blurt out: 'I love you. Ever since the first time I saw you.'

'What?' asked Arun, angrily. 'What did you tell Mademoiselle Ornella?'

'Huh?' Rohan was confused.

'I think I heard you say something about being in love,' spat Arun.

Rohan noticed that everyone was looking at him strangely. He realized he had spoken aloud. 'Oh, nothing,' he said, dismissively.

But Mademoiselle Ornella was beaming. She looked him up and down, mentally undressing him. 'Interesting. Very interesting.' she gurgled.

That evening, the gang went to Yacht to celebrate finishing the prototype. The watering hole was next to the beautiful St Andrew's Church, near Bandstand. It was a dingy, hole-in-the-wall bar, where the neighbourhood's middle-aged Catholic men congregated. It was the cheapest place to get a drink in Bandra and had become popular amongst artists, ad agency-types, college students and foreigners.

The bar was crowded, but Laxman Bhai, their long-time, moody waiter, found them a table instantly. They ordered Old Monk, Miller beers, crispy chicken, chicken lollypops and buff fry for Sam. The four of them launched the HI STRANGER! prototype on their respective phones. They wanted to test the app in a crowded place to check the Bluetooth functionality in an area with lots of connection signals. Much to their excitement, within a few seconds, they were able to connect and chat with each other. The app was working perfectly!

'Now, we should try this from a greater distance,' said Rohan thoughtfully.

Arun got up and hurried to the table farthest from them. There were two guys in their late twenties sitting at the table. 'Sorry, but can I sit here for a moment?' he asked them. 'I'm experimenting with an app I'll be launching soon.'

They both looked at him curiously and nodded their consent.

'Thanks, dudes.' Arun sat down and started scanning the room with HI STRANGER! Almost immediately, Rohan, Subhrasree and Sam's profiles popped up. He pinged Rohan, who accepted his ping. He typed a couple of lines. Rohan typed back. Arun beamed. The app was working great.

The two guys at the table observed Arun, fascinated. 'Wow. What app is this?' asked one of them, Mithun.

'It lets you talk to anyone, anywhere.' Arun grinned.

'Incredible. I want it,' said the other. 'Imagine how many girls I can chat up!'

'I want it too!' cried the first.

'Soon, soon...' Arun laughed with pleasure. 'It'll be available soon.' He could see the excitement and desperation in their eyes for his product. At that moment, he knew the app would be a hit.

Introductions were made. Mithun and Feroze listened to Arun explain how the app worked.

Feroze took out his phone. 'But can't I download it now?'

Arun shook his head. 'No, not yet. We haven't officially launched it.'

Mithun's face fell. 'Oh, no!'

Feroze poured some DSP whisky and Thums Up into a glass. 'The app is so cool. You are a genius, brother. You need to have one drink with us! Please!' He pushed the glass towards Arun.

Arun nodded proudly. 'I always accommodate my fans.'

The glasses clinked and the three gulped down the cheap, strong whisky.

'We want to be the first to get this app!' said Mithun eagerly.

'And you will,' promised Arun.

'Come on. Give it to us now. Please,' begged Feroze.

Arun shrugged. 'How can I say no to my fans?' He quickly transferred the prototype to them.

Mithun and Feroze were fascinated by the app, and instantly started setting up their profiles.

Arun smiled. 'Remember, it only works when others in the room have HI STRANGER! too,' he said slowly, like he was talking to children. 'You might have to wait till other people start using it.'

Mithun looked crestfallen. 'Oh, so how long before it's officially launched?'

'Couple of weeks, at most. We are setting up everything now, the website, the social media campaign...' Arun got up from the table. 'Anyway, see you guys around.'

They both stood up and hugged him. 'You are... awesome!' whispered Feroze.

Arun walked back to his table, full of happiness. This was his first-ever taste of success. All his life, he had felt like a loser, never having achieved anything. He had never won any kind of prize, in school or college. He had been mediocre at everything. So far, he had believed that nobody respected or valued him. But now, he could see that things were changing.

He slid into his seat and pummelled his fists in the air, startling Rohan, Subhrasree and Sam. 'Life is fucking good,' he cried.

What a beautiful day! The sun was shining brightly. The weather was perfect. Blackie, the friendly neighbourhood street dog, was wagging his tail, happily chomping on the biscuits Rohan had given him.

Rohan beheld the clear blue skies and felt his heart soar. He breathed in the cool morning air. He had stepped down to get milk, Maggi and Parle-G biscuits. He smoked a cigarette at the shop, scrutinizing the Sea Palace building, checking to see if Suhana was anywhere in sight. The crazy African woman had said that Suhana would be at a restaurant called Bungalow 9 that night. As the app was working perfectly, his confidence was soaring. He could now see a bright future ahead. I'm going to meet her there, he thought, full of determination. Tonight, I'll tell her how much I love her.

Thinking of HI STRANGER! made him open the app and gaze lovingly at the ultra-cool design, as it started scanning for connections. He had worked intensively on the design with Sam, breaking the conventional rules to create a look that was inspired by the Optical Art movement. Rohan had scrawled a Steve Jobs quote across the peeling wall of his flat to inspire Sam: 'We made the buttons on the screen look so good you'll want to lick them.'

There were a few things to improve in the app, and as they built a user base there would be bugs to fix, but that would happen after the launch. For now, the product was perfect!

Rohan cheerfully climbed up the stairs of his building and walked into the flat. He saw Subhrasree, Sam and Arun sitting at the worktable, looking very tense, arguing.

'What's wrong?' asked Rohan.

'We are fucked!' cried Sam.

'It's Arun's fault,' hissed Subhrasree, turning her laptop towards Rohan. 'Look at this!'

Rohan stared at the HI STRANGER! website. It was poorly designed with too much use of Flash. There were crude links that directed the user to more information about the app. Rohan tut-tutted as he glanced over the bad write-up about the purpose, functionality and features of the app.

'It looks atrocious,' muttered Rohan. 'But aren't you guys overreacting? Arun will improve it.'

'We didn't make it!' said Sam.

Rohan laughed. 'Really? It just happened by magic, did it?'

No one was smiling. Rohan gulped. 'Did someone steal our idea?' he whispered, fear gripping his heart.

'It was the guys from yesterday,' said Subhrasree.

Rohan couldn't comprehend what was happening. 'What guys? What are you talking about?'

Sam gave Arun a dirty look. 'Remember the table he sat at, when we were testing the app? Those were the two guys who basically took the app and put it on the Play Store. They also made this website.'

Rohan still didn't get it. 'They might have got the idea from Arun, but how could they have the actual app?' he asked. 'It would take them weeks or months to develop!'

'I gave them the prototype. I'm sorry.' Arun said, quietly.

Rohan was flabbergasted. He didn't say a word. His world had suddenly come crashing down. His mouth felt dry and a headache started developing. How the fuck could this happen? How could Arun be so careless? He rubbed his head, furiously.

'Dude, what do we do?' Sam asked Rohan.

'We have to take some kind of legal action!' Subhrasree cried. 'We can't allow this.'

'We haven't patented the app. What legal action can we take?' wondered Sam.

'You guys, I swear on God, I'm going to fix it,' said Arun. He started making a phone call, pacing around the hall.

Rohan felt nauseated. He couldn't be in the same room as Arun. At that moment, he felt a deep hatred for him. Rohan went to the bedroom, shut the door and collapsed on Subhrasree's bed, staring at the slowly whirling fan, his mind a blank.

A few minutes later, Arun peeped into the room. 'Dude?'

Rohan didn't want to talk to him ever again.

'I know where the guys live. I called Yacht. Laxman told me their address,' said Arun, excited.

Subhrasree and Sam walked into the bedroom. 'And how did he know?' asked Sam.

'Those guys are regulars at Yacht it seems,' said Arun. 'He had to help them get home once, after they had had too much to drink.'

'So what if we know the address?' asked Subhrasree.

'We pay them a visit,' said Arun, coolly.

'Why?' asked Sam.

Arun sighed. 'What do you mean why? To threaten them. We'll get them to take down the website and the app.'

'You are not a gangster,' said Subhrasree, contemptuously. 'They are not going to be scared of you.'

'No, but I know a gangster. He'll sort this out.'

'Who?' asked Sam.

Arun was evasive. 'I know someone.'

'I'm not doing that,' said Subhrasree, firmly.

'Arun, are you out of your mind?' cried Sam. 'If those two guys file a police report, we are fucked.'

'But...' Arun protested.

Subhrasree shook her head. 'Your idea is ridiculous. We are not doing that.'

'It's the only way,' muttered Arun.

'No.'

'Please... I promise...'

'No.'

Arun turned to Rohan. 'Please back me on this. We can't allow those assholes to steal HI STRANGER! Let me get in touch with the gangster. It's going to work.'

Rohan got up from the bed. He had finally realized something. 'You know what, these last three years, I believed that as the CEO of Spook Labs, I was the one responsible for our repeated failures. But now, I know it's not me, it has never been me. Today, I'm in this situation...' He waved at the decrepit house. '...because of you guys. All of you guys. I have no money. Spook Labs hasn't made one rupee yet. I have nothing to show for the years of struggle. The ideas never seem to work. The truth is I'm with the wrong people!'

'What are you talking about?' asked Subhrasree, very hurt.

Rohan looked at them, coldly. 'Sorry, but I need to find other teammates. Or I'm going to be a failure all my life... like you guys...'

'How can you say such things?' asked Sam, his eyes filling with tears.

Rohan shrugged.

'Well, you better find new teammates then,' said Subhrasree, angrily. 'I was always there for you, no matter what.'

Rohan looked at her coldly. 'So? You always say "It works out in the end", but look around you... how the fuck is it going so far for us, eh? We are fucked, aren't we?'

'Rohan, what happened is my fault,' said Arun. 'Leave Subhrasree and Sam alone.'

'Don't worry. I have nothing more to say to any of you,' spat Rohan icily and stormed out of the house.

# 7

Bungalow 9 was a beautiful, classy restaurant in Bandra that attracted a posh crowd. It was cosy and romantic, with soft music, dim lights and a lush garden, which provided the place a dreamy Goan ambience.

Rohan stood across the road from the restaurant, trying to make up his mind. Ornella had said Suhana would be there that night. Rohan glanced uneasily at the line of BMWs, Mercs, and Audis parked outside. He felt very awkward. I don't belong in such fancy places.

He had checked out the prices online and it was quite expensive. There was also the matter of HI STRANGER! on his mind. He was facing a big problem. Someone had stolen his idea. I can't just let this happen. I have to solve this somehow. He was also upset at having fought with his friends and was feeling guilty about the things he had said to them.

Rohan finally made his decision. This was not the right time to meet Suhana. He should be trying to get his app back from the thieves. He asked himself what he intended to accomplish by going into the restaurant. Is she going to run into my arms when I tell her I love her? Unlikely. He took a deep breath and was just about to walk away, when he heard a cheery voice nearby. 'There he is!'

Mademoiselle Ornella was walking towards him.

'Huh?' Rohan stared at her, surprised. He mentally cursed himself for standing so close to the restaurant. 'I was just leaving,' he said, quickly.

'No, you're not!' Ornella grabbed his hand and half-dragged, half-led him towards Bungalow 9.

Rohan scowled. Fuck! 'Listen... I really don't...'

But it was no use. Before he knew it, he was inside the restaurant compound. Ornella chose the open-air seating and walked to a large table surrounded by potted plants. Rohan sat beside her, looking around uncomfortably. What is she going to order? How will I pay the bill?

He felt very nervous about meeting Suhana. Yesterday, when he had made his plan to tell her he loved her, he was feeling explosively confident. He had just put together an awesome app and life seemed full of exciting possibilities. He had been cheerful and expectant. But today, everything had changed dramatically. After his app was stolen, he felt like his dreams had been squashed. The success he was expecting suddenly seemed elusive. His confidence had ebbed. I'm not mentally ready to meet Suhana!

Ornella smiled coyly at Rohan. 'I'm sorry about punching you.'

'Forget it,' said Rohan, looking around, distractedly. The night was still young and the place wasn't crowded. 'When will your friends come?' he asked, casually.

Ornella was gazing amorously at him. 'They'll come,' she said.

I'd better get out before Suhana gets here. Rohan coughed. 'I need to use the restroom.'

'Come back soon!'

Rohan nodded and quickly walked away from the table. When he was out of Ornella's sight, he doubled back, going around the building and keeping to the garden, away from the diners. He sighed in relief when he reached the entrance of the restaurant. Just as he was about to step out he saw Suhana.

She was wearing a turquoise, strapless evening dress. It was short and frilled and matched her high-heeled shoes. Her hair was newly styled, in a retro, hippie look. Rohan instinctively took a few steps back and stood pinned against the wall as she walked past him. She looked very pretty and he gaped idiotically at her. She was chatting with her friends and didn't notice him.

Rohan watched her group walk towards Ornella's table. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweaty. Just the sight of her fucks me up. He didn't know what to do. There was no way he could walk out after seeing her. But, on the other hand, he didn't have the courage to return to the table and actually talk to her. I was fine at the party. I wasn't so nervous then. He realized that he had been in a costume that day, he was a character and she could not see who he really was. And now I am me, with all my flaws, failures and imperfections...

Rohan finally made up his mind. He would go back to the table, but only after he had gulped down a drink for courage. He sneaked to the indoor bar, managing to keep a safe distance from Ornella's table.

Rohan climbed onto a bar stool.

'What can I get you, sir?' asked the bartender.

He glanced at the menu and cringed. Classy joints cost money. He looked in his wallet. He only had five hundred rupees with him. He ordered Jameson, 30 ml and gulped it down neat.

The alcohol was not enough to be of help. He peeped out from the large glass windows next to the bar and carefully studied Suhana's group. There were three girls and two guys sitting at the table. They were all very fashionably dressed. The guys had carefully coiffed hair, wore expensive, perfect-fitting shirts, while the girls were in short, pretty, party dresses.

Rohan began to feel very awkward as he looked down at his own clothes. He was in a well-worn, formal shirt and old, faded jeans. His shabby, blue Converse shoes were beginning to tear at the sides. He had never really worried too much about what he wore. But now, he was painfully aware of how he must look – like a loser.

He noticed that Suhana's boyfriend was not in the group. Could it be? Could she have broken up with the guy? Did he actually have a chance now?

He saw her leave the table to answer a phone call. She walked to a quieter part of the compound. Rohan left the bar and followed her, keeping a distance. She was talking animatedly on the phone, like she was having an argument. Rohan wondered if it was the boyfriend. Are they still together? The call ended and she sat down on a chair, looking upset. She was in an enclave of sorts, large areca palms screening the place on three sides. I hope she is OK. Seeing her sitting alone, lost in her thoughts, made him feel sorry for her.

Rohan suddenly walked towards Suhana. He reached her and then stood beside her, tongue-tied. What the hell do I say?

She looked up, startled to see him hovering so close to her. 'Oh, hi!' she said, recognizing him.

Rohan was very anxious. 'I'm sorry...' he apologized.

'What for?'

'I... um, I'm probably disturbing you.'

She waved her hand. 'No, no... how are you?'

He took a seat near her. 'Not too bad. You?'

'OK.'

Sam had told him that the easiest way into a girl's heart was by making her laugh. Suhana seemed sad and he needed to cheer her up.

'I have a joke,' he blurted out. 'Three tomatoes are walking down the street – a papa tomato, a mama tomato and a baby tomato...'

She interrupted him. 'Isn't that from Pulp Fiction?'

'Have you seen the movie?' he asked.

She shrugged. 'I like Tarantino.'

She is so cool. Rohan racked his mind for a new joke.

'Were you in a fight?' she asked.

'What?'

'You have a bruise on your face.'

'Oh, you should have seen the other guy,' he grinned.

The joke fell flat. She didn't smile. Rohan cleared his throat, awkwardly. 'I'm kidding. Actually, Ornella punched me.'

She finally smiled. 'So you're the mystery guy!'

'What?'

'She was just telling us the story of how she met you. Are you and she together?'

'What? No!' cried Rohan, horrified. Her matter-of-fact tone upset him. She didn't seem to mind if he was in a relationship. 'My roommate, Arun, is the one interested in her,' he said, sullenly.

Suhana grinned. 'And yet... here you are.'

'Yes... but I didn't come here for her.'

'Who then?' she teased.

You. I love you, Suhana. He couldn't say it. He just looked at his feet. 'It's not what you think.'

She noticed he was becoming moody. 'Hey, I'm just pulling your leg. Ornella has a new boyfriend every week, by the way.'

'Really? Then Arun has a chance,' smirked Rohan.

She laughed. 'Lucky Arun.'

'So how do you know Ornella?' he asked.

'I met her when I was travelling abroad.'

Rohan remembered Suhana's cover picture on FB. 'Oh OK, the Europe trip you made with your friends,' he said.

'How do you know about that?' asked Suhana.

I have been stalking you on Facebook. 'Huh?' Rohan frantically tried to think of something to say. 'Um, you told me.'

'I did?'

He nodded vigorously. 'Yeah. Yeah. Last time we met.'

'Oh, cool. Hey, by the way, I don't think we have introduced ourselves. I'm Suhana.'

But before Rohan could say anything, a man suddenly interrupted them. 'Yo!' he bellowed.

Suhana lit up seeing him. 'Hi, Zubair!' she said, sweetly, getting up to hug him.

The guy was tall, handsome, and looked like he spent a lot of time working out. He was wearing a tight, pink V-neck T-shirt and some form of pyjamas. It was a look that was in vogue among the Mumbai gym rats. Rohan suddenly realized that the guy was very much like her boyfriend, the same stature and physicality, the same lazy swagger, the same trace of arrogance on his face.

'I'm so sorry about what happened,' said Zubair, looking devastated. She nodded, getting a little emotional.

So she has really broken up, thought Rohan.

Zubair wrapped his powerful arms around her. It was a long, warm hug. He disengaged reluctantly and then lightly kissed her on the forehead. 'It's OK, sweetheart.'

Rohan scowled. Sweetheart?

Zubair barely glanced at him. He threw his BMW car keys and 'pimped-up' mobile phone on the table and then, casually pulled up a chair and sat down between Rohan and Suhana.

Motherfucker! Rohan hated the guy.

Despite treating Rohan with contempt, Zubair was kindness and sweetness personified with Suhana. 'So when did it happen?' he asked, his voice purring with tenderness.

Suhana shrugged. 'A week ago. We still talk though.'

'How are you holding up?'

'It's tough.'

'Hey, you are going to find someone a lot better... hotter, nicer, sweeter, richer, better sexually...' He winked.

She rolled her eyes. 'Very funny.'

Rohan gritted his teeth. Fucking dick, is he consoling her or seducing her?

'You are going to be fine,' murmured Zubair and hugged her again.

It's their third hug in two minutes, Rohan thought wryly, keeping a careful count. But much to his annoyance, after the hug, Zubair kept one arm around her, soothingly, while he continued the conversation.

'You'll love this, yo,' he chuckled. 'It's supposed to be a secret, but you know, Asha, Sid's friend, she had a party last weekend at her place and she hired six male strippers...'

'There are male strippers in India?' Rohan blurted out, surprised.

Zubair cleared his throat, irritated at having his anecdote interrupted. Suhana was too engrossed in the story to answer Rohan. They both ignored him and Zubair continued: 'Her mom, who was supposed to be out of town, suddenly walked in...'

'No!'

Zubair laughed. 'Yes! And then to everyone's absolute horror, the strippers greeted her mom like they were old friends. Later they found out that male strippers were a staple part of her mom's kitty parties.'

'That's not true. You just made that up.'

'Listen, that's what I heard, yo.'

Rohan sat quietly, listening. Does this guy only talk about sexual stuff?

But Suhana didn't seem to mind. It was very obvious to Rohan that she liked the guy. She was comfortable with him and was perfectly fine with his touchy-feely behaviour.

Rohan, meanwhile, had been completely left out of the conversation. It was like he didn't exist. They weren't even looking at him. Rohan felt humiliated. She doesn't give a fuck about me. I mean nothing to her.

Rohan suddenly got up and hurriedly walked away, without looking back. He half-hoped that she would say... something... anything... maybe, ask him to stay.

She didn't.

*

Outside Bungalow 9, Rohan stopped an auto, but right before climbing in, realized that he had spent all his money on the drink. His wallet was empty. He decided to walk. He didn't want to go home, so he strolled along St Sebastian Road, climbed up to Mount Mary and then sauntered down to Bandstand.

He was angry. Life was fucked up. He felt insulted.

He wished Suhana had been nicer to him. At the very least, she could have introduced him to the guy. That would have been the polite thing to do. But ever since Zubair had arrived, she had completely forgotten about him.

Well, who exactly am I to her? She had met him a few times, that's all. There was nothing between them. Did I really imagine that she'd have feelings for me? That's just fucking ridiculous!

Zubair was definitely into her. That he could see. The question was whether she was attracted to him. Were they just good friends? Did they have a romantic past? Would she start dating him?

Rohan felt despondent. He took a cigarette out of his pocket and because it was low tide, walked down from the Bandstand promenade to the slippery rocks near the water. He smoked, sitting in the dark. A few couples passed by him, over the rocks, looking for secluded spots. He stared at the distant buoy lights and listened to the waves.

Going to the restaurant had been a stupid thing to do. Ornella had said the right thing. He wasn't Suhana's type. Actually, Zubair was her type. Rich, good-looking and an asshole. It wasn't her fault she liked those types of men. That was her circle, that was who she was. What does she know about people like me? She lived a happy, comfortable and protected life. She never had to sacrifice anything. She didn't know what it was to risk everything, absolutely everything, for a crazy dream. She will never understand or appreciate me.

She was actually the sort of person he had always hated: the rich, spoilt, party-types, who never really did anything with their lives, except spend their parents' money. Fuck her!

Rohan thought of HI STRANGER! Subhrasree had been worried about the consequences of getting a gangster to the thieves' house. She believed it was a risk, that things could go dangerously wrong. But they had already risked so much. They had poured their souls into the app... into Spook Labs... into their dreams. The world doesn't give you shit. You have to take it.

He knew what he had to do. He had to get his app back. No one is going to steal my idea. Fuck those motherfuckers!

It was time to call the gangster.

# 8

They walked along a mud path that bordered a dirty, garbage-strewn canal. They were in Malvani, a locality in North Mumbai. They got to a slum-like area, where the path broke into many tiny tracks, all meandering through a maze of small, one-room houses, made of wooden planks and blue tarpaulin sheets.

'Are we in the right place?' asked Rohan.

Arun grunted. 'Yes.'

'So how do you know this guy?' asked Sam.

'This way,' said Arun, deciding on one of the tracks.

After a short walk, the teeming slum area abruptly ended to reveal a large, swampy ground with an old, beautiful mosque at the centre of it.

'This is it,' said Arun, looking around for the gangster.

'I still don't understand why you had to drag me here,' Subhrasree muttered, uneasily.

Arun sighed. 'How many times do I tell you? This guy behaves differently around women. He is polite, less violent and controls his temper... basically, girls make him more chilled out. So you are our insurance scheme if anything should go wrong.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Wonderful.'

They waited under a peepal tree, watching some boys play cricket. Rohan was very nervous. I hope this works. He had gone home last night, apologized profusely to everyone and then convinced them that Arun's gangster idea was the only way to get back the app.

The cricket match ended and one of the boys walked towards them. He was in his late teens, reed-thin and chewing paan. He wore a black shirt, grey pants and dusty sandals.

Arun recognized the boy. 'Sohail Bhai,' he gushed, full of respect for the kid.

Rohan, Subhrasree and Sam exchanged looks, completely taken aback. 'What the hell,' whispered Subhrasree. 'Is this child the gangster?'

Sohail spat out his paan, shook hands with everyone and then waved at a nearby shop. Two people came running from the shop with cold drinks and cigarettes for everyone. 'Enjoy, enjoy,' said Sohail, who was in a jolly mood after his cricket victory.

Rohan nudged Arun. 'Let's go,' he said, quietly. 'This kid isn't going to scare anyone.'

Arun ignored him and smiled deferentially at Sohail. 'Bhai, regarding the issue...'

Sohail waved his hands dismissively. 'Don't worry. We'll handle it...' He took out his phone and made a call. 'Get the guys. We have work to do.'

Sohail led them away from the ground to a small shed, where workers were making furniture. A dozen guys had collected outside the shed on six bikes. They were all teenagers, lean and wiry. Many had kohl-lined eyes, some of them were chewing paan and a few looked like they were high on charas.

A tempo came to a halt near them. 'Climb into the Chhota Hathi.' Sohail ordered Arun. 'Let's go.'

Arun glanced at Rohan, Subhrasree and Sam. 'Cool?'

They all nodded. The four of them clambered into the open back of the tempo. There was no seating and they had to sit on the uncomfortable cargo bed.

'Where do those two motherfuckers stay?' asked Sohail.

'Bandra East,' said Arun.

Sohail rubbed his chin, ponderously. 'I have three things to do first... then we head to Bandra East.'

'I see,' muttered Arun. 'OK, Bhai.'

Sohail walked to the front of the tempo and got inside the enclosed driver's cab. For a few minutes, nothing happened. The tempo did not start. The bikers were close behind, revving their engines, talking and joking with each other.

'Why are we not moving?' asked Rohan, stretching his legs, trying to get more comfortable.

Subhrasree was thoughtful. 'Will this actually work? Sohail and his so-called gangsters are all children.'

'They are dangerous,' cried Arun. 'Wait and watch...'

Rohan frowned. 'What did he mean he had three things to do? How long do we have to sit in this stupid truck?'

Two men hurried to the tempo, carrying gunny sacks. The sacks seemed very heavy and the men grimaced as they strained to put them in the back of the tempo. Sam got up and helped them. Once the sacks were inside, the sweaty men banged twice on the tempo, signalling.

The convoy finally began to move.

'Sit down,' Subhrasree ordered Sam, who was wobbling dangerously near the back of the vehicle.

But Sam was staring at the sacks, transfixed.

'What's going on?' asked Arun.

Sam opened one of the sacks, and stepped away from it, so the others could get a good view.

'Fuck me,' hissed Rohan.

Inside were knifes, iron rods and hockey sticks. But the thing that was the most frightening of all was a large, glistening sword, which had small flecks of red all over it.

*

The first stop was a cosy coffee shop in Goregaon. The tempo stopped across the road. Sohail stepped out and winked at the four of them. 'Let's have some fun. Come on.'

They climbed out, a little anxious. Sohail gave orders to his bikers. 'I'm going to do this myself. Salim, go to that junction and watch out for cops. Khawaja, guard the weapons in the tempo...'

A tall, jovial teenager named Moon, hurried to the group. 'Sohail Bhai, I have been following them all day. They are inside now,' he said, full of excitement.

Rohan had a feeling things were going to turn ugly. 'Who's inside?' he asked, worriedly.

Sohail laughed. 'All of you go to the cafe and relax.'

'I don't want to... it's better if we–' Sam started to protest.

Sohail's attitude instantly changed. His cheeriness vanished. 'I asked you to do something,' he said, quietly.

'Yes, of course, Bhai,' said Arun, immediately.

Having seen the weapons, they were all scared of Sohail. Reluctantly, they made their way to the cafe and sat at a table on the porch.

'What the fuck?' cried Subhrasree. 'What a waste of time...'

'Why does he want us to sit here?' wondered Sam.

On the table next to them, there were four people sitting. Two guys and two girls. Sohail suddenly walked in, grabbed one of the guys and slapped him hard across the face. The girls started screaming. The second guy at the table lunged furiously at Sohail, who easily dodged his punch and kicked the guy expertly between his legs. The guy collapsed, groaning in pain. The first guy tried to run, but Sohail leaped at him, tearing his shirt, as he repeatedly punched him in the face.

Waiters came rushing out, while the other customers looked on, horrified.

'If anyone interferes, I'm going to cut their throat.' Sohail pulled out a large dagger from a scabbard under his shirt.

Rohan gawked at the scene unfolding before him. Sohail exuded a cool menace that was terrifying. It was obvious he was an experienced street fighter. Despite his thin frame, he was very strong. No one in the cafe said or did anything as he hit the guy a few more times.

'Compliments of your ex-boyfriend.' He roared at one of the crying girls. Then he calmly adjusted his shirt and took a deep breath, enjoying the attention and fear and walked out of the cafe.

Waiters helped the beaten guy sit up and brought towels for his bloody face. People began calling the police and crowded around, finally trying to help.

Sam was gaping. 'What the fuck, man...'

'The poor guy...' Subhrasree whispered. 'He's badly hurt.'

'What do we do?' asked Rohan. 'Do we just sit here?'

'Why did he want us to see this?' Sam wondered.

Moon whistled from outside the cafe. He motioned for them to come out. The four of them quickly walked out.

'That was fun, eh?' giggled Moon.

They walked to the tempo across the road. 'Where are we going next?' asked Arun, worriedly.

Moon shrugged. 'Wherever Sohail Bhai takes us.'

'He said he had three things to do... before helping us,' said Sam, quietly. 'This was only the first...'

*

The next stop was Versova. The tempo stopped in Aram Nagar, a place with lines of crumbing bungalows and shady cottages, infamous for the countless B-grade film production offices, hordes of film industry wannabes and sleazy casting agents.

'This is bullshit!' muttered Subhrasree. 'We are partners in his crimes. Who else is he going to hurt now? We should just leave!'

Rohan shook his head. 'This is the only way... we have to go through this if we want the app back!'

Sohail walked to the back of the tempo and motioned them to get out.

Sam had an idea. He smiled politely at Sohail. 'Sohail Bhai, why don't we meet you in Bandra East... once you have finished all your... um, work...'

'No,' said Sohail, with finality. He didn't bother with any explanations.

They waited in silence for a few minutes. They saw Moon, who had been sent out to recce the target area, walk slowly up and down the road, a little distance away, surreptitiously glancing at a red-painted bungalow. Soon, he hurried back towards them.

'Suresh has men for protection,' said Moon, grimly.

'How many?' asked Sohail.

'I could see almost ten outside. There may be more inside the office.'

'Are they armed?' asked Sohail, rubbing his chin and narrowing his eyes.

'I didn't see any weapons.'

'Do you know who these men are?' asked Sohail.

Moon nodded. 'I have seen one of them with Bashid Mama.'

Sohail made up his mind. 'We'll take them on!' he spat. 'Get armed. No knives or swords. Take only the iron rods. Hit them on the legs. I don't want any murders. Understood?'

His gangsters were beaming, thrilled at the prospect of violence.

'Are you... are you going to attack them?' stammered Arun.

'Come and watch,' Sohail offered generously.

'But why?' asked Subhrasree. 'What did they do?'

'They didn't do anything. We have to fight the men to get through to the producer Suresh, who hasn't paid an actress her money for a Bhojpuri film she had worked on... Now, this actress wants the money, so she hired me...'

The gangsters began taking iron rods out of the gunny sacks in the tempo.

'Wait...' cried Subhrasree.

'Now what?' sighed Sohail. He was starting to get annoyed at her repeated interruptions.

'Don't hurt all those people... what if I bring Suresh to you?'

'Subhrasree, don't interfere...' said Sam.

'How will you do that?' asked Sohail.

'Give me five minutes... and hide yourselves when he approaches!' Subhrasree turned and hurried towards the office building.

'What are you doing?' Rohan was about to run after her when Sohail grabbed his arm, stopping him. 'Let her go,' he ordered, quietly.

Rohan could feel the strong grip crushing his biceps. He winced. 'But...'

'You are right, Bhai,' said Arun, obsequiously.

Subhrasree had now almost reached the production office. There was nothing Rohan could do. He nodded.

Sohail released his arm.

*

Subhrasree walked into the tiny compound of the ramshackle, red bungalow. The men sitting around the entrance, smoking and playing cards, didn't give her a second glance as she entered. There was a narrow corridor that led to a cabin inside. Subhrasree stepped into the cabin and looked around the room. There were three large sofas in the room, but no tables or chairs. Sitting on one of the sofas was a fat, dark man in his early thirties with a cold, snooty face. He was talking on the phone. A laptop near him was playing porn. He saw her and ended the call.

'Actress?' he asked, rudely.

'Are you Suresh?'

Suresh grimaced. 'Have some respect. Call me Suresh Sir. Come tomorrow. I don't have time today.'

'Sir, I'm not an actress,' said Subhrasree, politely. 'I work with... um, Parrot Productions... We have got the five iMac computers you ordered...'

'What?' he asked, confused.

'Yes, they're outside. Should I make the delivery?'

'I didn't order...'

'Oh, they're already paid for... online.'

Suresh narrowed his cunning eyes. 'Already paid for?' He grinned. Here was an opportunity. 'The order is mine... it's mine...' he said, suddenly.

'Well, could you come out and check if it's really yours?'

'Yes, it's mine,' smirked Suresh. 'Let's go.'

They stepped out of the office. Suresh studied Subhrasree's body carefully. 'Do you want to be an actress? I can help you.'

'Oh... I... maybe.'

'After doing the computer delivery, I'll tell you all about it in my office. See, you have to do a bit of exposing...'

Subhrasree pointed at the tempo standing a short distance away. 'It's right there.'

The men lounging outside the office looked up at them curiously, but did not bother to follow. Suresh and Subhrasree walked to the tempo. Suresh was distracted, thinking about that he would do to her later. He looked at the back of the tempo and stopped short, surprised. It was empty. 'Where are the computers?'

Suddenly, Sohail and his men rushed at him from behind a building.

Suresh tried to run but they grabbed him and Sohail pointed his dagger at his face. 'Quiet. Remember me?'

Suresh nodded vigorous. 'You... you can have the money. Please don't hit me.'

They searched him and to Sohail's delight, found a stack of cash. 'This more than covers it,' grinned Sohail.

'You wanted the money. Now let him go,' said Subhrasree. 'No one needs to get hurt.'

Suresh was sweating profusely and trembling. Sohail thought for a moment and then released his hold on him. He watched Suresh run back towards the bungalow.

'Let's leave! Just in case he tells those guys to chase us,' cried Rohan, quickly jumping into the back of the tempo.

But Sohail was rubbing his chin, thoughtfully. He grimaced. 'No.'

'What?' asked Sam, startled.

'No. This is not how it's done,' said Sohail, dangerously.

'What are you talking about?' asked Subhrasree. 'You got the money. Let's go!'

'Let's fuck them up!' spat Sohail.

'Wait!' cried Subhrasree.

But the gangsters grabbed the iron rods and rushed towards the office. There were screams as Sohail's men attacked the group.

'I'm leaving. Fuck this guy,' cried Arun.

Rohan clasped his head and nodded. 'He's a psychopath.'

'We'll find some other way to get back our app!' said Subhrasree.

But Sohail had left two guys to guard the rest of the weapons in the tempo. They noticed what was being planned.

The men casually blocked their way. 'You are not going anywhere,' said Moon, coldly. 'Till Sohail Bhai lets you!'

*

It was dark now. Rohan looked at his watch. It had been only two hours since they had met the crazy gangster. But it seems like a lifetime. Time was passing painfully slowly. They were in big trouble. Sohail had refused to let them go. And now, they were in Irla, a neighbourhood near the upmarket Juhu area and Sohail was possibly planning his third attack of the day.

Sohail didn't say a word as he led them to a small, two-storied shack in a dark alleyway. There was something very sinister about it. The outside walls were covered with patches of moss and stains of damp. The windows were all boarded up with planks of wood.

Sam saw a boy of twelve, standing near the door, motionless. He wore a white Pathani and skull cap. He had extremely large, kohl-painted eyes and a bizarrely featureless face. He stared at them, unblinking, with an intensity that was disturbing.

'Look at that boy.' Sam nudged Rohan. 'Something is wrong. We should not be here...'

Rohan mustered his courage. He turned to Sohail. 'If you are planning to attack someone, we refuse to go inside!' he said, loudly, putting on a show of self-assurance and toughness. 'Do you understand?' he asked.

The gangsters crowded around Rohan, their guard up, surprised at the sudden outburst. They looked at Sohail for orders. There was a tense moment of silence. And then, Sohail laughed heartily. His gangsters also joined him, sniggering and playfully slapping Rohan on the back.

'There is going to be no violence,' said Sohail, very amused. 'We are only here for some aiyashi.'

Rohan, Subhrasree and Arun relaxed a little. 'This may be a dance bar,' muttered Arun.

But Sam was staring at the strange boy. He shook his head. 'No... something horrible happens here.'

They had to tread through thick undergrowth to reach the entrance of the house. Sohail opened an old, creaking door and the group went inside. There was one room, dimly lit with a few red zero watt bulbs. The floor was littered with cushions and carpets. Two men were lying down, groaning, at the other end of the room. There was a strange, pungent odour in the air. Rohan had never smelled anything like it before. It's like the smell of decay and death. Like Sam, he too had a premonition that something very bad was about to happen.

The gangsters collapsed on the cushions. 'Javed, Moon, stand guard at the door,' Sohail ordered. 'Don't let anyone in... or out...'

Rohan, Subhrasree, Sam and Arun stood near the entrance of the room, unwilling to step in any further.

'Sit,' said Sohail, happily. 'Relax and enjoy!'

They hesitantly sat on the carpet nearest the door. The smell was overpowering and Subhrasree covered her face. Rohan realized that the gangsters were all in a state of great excitement and anticipation.

'Is this a drug den?' asked Sam, quietly.

'Probably,' muttered Rohan. 'But what's the fucking smell?'

'I wish Ornella was here,' sighed Arun.

'What? Why?' asked Sam.

'She is tough, dude. She would know what to do in a situation like this...'

'Yeah.' Rohan nodded. 'She is strong-willed. Yesterday, she dragged me into Bungalow 9, even though...'

'What?' asked Arun, suddenly very suspicious.

'What?' asked Rohan, who was carefully studying Javed and Moon. Could they push past the guards and make their escape, in case something crazy happened? Despite their reedy looks, Rohan could tell that the teenagers were strong and were experienced street fighters. Escape might not be an option.

'You met Ornella yesterday?' asked Arun, forgetting the other, more pressing, issues the group was facing.

'Yes... I...'

Arun gritted his teeth. 'You fucking liar... you said you had gone to meet Audi Girl...'

'Dude, it's not what you think...'

Arun got up from the carpet. 'Fuck you!'

'Arun, just calm down,' beseeched Subhrasree. 'We need to keep our wits about us right now...'

'No,' he cried out, loudly. 'How dare you try to fuck my girl?'

'Quiet down!' ordered Sohail.

'No!' bellowed Arun.

Sohail was not used to being disobeyed. He was suddenly very angry. 'What did you say?' he asked, threateningly.

But Arun was too furious to control himself. 'I'll talk as loudly as I want!' he growled at Sohail.

Sohail got up. But before he could step towards Arun, the strange boy they had seen outside, came in from the kitchen with a jute basket and a small glass bottle. 'If you make a noise, you will disturb them...' he said in an effeminate voice.

They heard hisses from the basket. Arun gulped. There were snakes in it. Sohail calmed down and sat back down. 'Bring them to me,' he told the boy, taking a deep breath.

'What the fuck is going on?' whispered Sam.

It was dark and they couldn't see clearly. The boy opened the basket and the sounds of angry snakes became louder.

Sohail shook his head. 'No, I want the cobra.'

The boy put the basket aside and gingerly opened the glass bottle. He carefully took out a baby cobra, holding it by its neck. He brought the snake close to Sohail's face. Sohail stuck his tongue out, moving it around to goad the baby snake. The cobra flashed forward, biting him on the tongue. Sohail grunted with pain, but then collapsed on the cushions, smiling blissfully.

'The first bite is the strongest,' said the boy, looking at Sam directly.

Sam retched, almost throwing up in fear. One by one, the boy took out different snakes from the basket, kraits and green snakes and made them bite the gangsters on their index fingers and little toes.

'This cannot be happening,' mumbled Rohan, sweating profusely.

Sohail sat up dizzily and looked at Arun, who was sitting motionless, mouth open. 'Their turn...' he told the boy. 'If they resist... force them...' he ordered Javed and Moon.

'I'll get new snakes...' said the boy, going into the kitchen.

'Please,' begged Arun. 'Please don't do this...'

Sohail didn't bother answering him.

Rohan hurriedly took out his phone. 'I'm going to call the police,' he whispered. But to his great dismay, there was no network inside the house.

Subhrasree checked her phone. 'No network,' she said, her voice cracking with tension.

'Think, think...' Rohan prodded himself. But he was too frightened and no ideas came to him.

Sam slouched against the wall, teary-eyed. 'I knew it,' he whispered. 'From the time I saw that strange boy, something was very, very wrong...'

'Wait, when did he get inside?' wondered Rohan. 'The room was being guarded, no?'

'How the fuck does that matter now, you fucking cunt?' Arun spat at Rohan viciously.

Subhrasree suddenly jumped up. 'Sohail Bhai, thank you for this wonderful opportunity...' Sohail nodded magnanimously. '...but we want to choose our own snakes!' she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

'Of course, of course...' he grunted.

'No, we don't.' Arun looked at her, shocked.

'What are you doing?' Rohan whispered to Subhrasree.

'The boy... if he got inside and it's not from this door, there must be a back entrance...' She told them, quietly.

'Oh...'

The four of them walked carefully, their hearts in their mouths, worried about stepping on any loose snakes on the carpets and cushions. A light, fluttering red curtain separated the kitchen from the main room of the house. They cautiously peeped into the kitchen. The sight was horrifying. There were bottles, glass tanks and baskets all over the place, all with snakes inside. Most of the creatures were alive, while a few had been put in ethyl jars with 'Snake Wine' written on them.

They froze, as they took in the sight. The boy was bending over, trying to take out a large snake from a watery sink, where it was writhing about. Next to him was the open back door. Rohan glanced back into the main room. Sohail was looking at them.

They stepped past the curtain and into the kitchen, hurrying to the back door, careful to keep their distance from the hissing snakes. Rohan wondered if the boy would try to stop them, but he just looked at them curiously with his large, hollow eyes.

They stepped into the night. The cool air was refreshing. Arun bent over and threw up. They rushed through the undergrowth to the dark alleyway they had come from. They started running full speed, with Arun leading them. But after five minutes, instead of the main road, they reached a large, dirty canal. The path ended in a cul-de-sac.

'What the fuck!' Rohan gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Subhrasree hurriedly opened her phone GPS. 'We've come the wrong way!'

They doubled back, panting as they ran and had just crossed the snake house when they heard Sohail's voice behind them. He was waving at them. They slowed down to a trot and then stopped, some distance away, studying him, warily. The gangsters were coming out of the house, in ones and twos, looking woozy.

Subhrasree immediately called the police. 'Hello?' said the control room voice.

'If you have gotten your bites, let's head to Bandra East,' shouted Sohail.

'Hello, I'm calling from...' said Subhrasree on the phone and then hesitated. She cancelled the call.

Arun looked at her, taken aback. 'What the hell! Tell the police to help us. The gangsters might chase us if we run!'

Subhrasree narrowed her eyes. 'We have been through hell today. If, after all this, we don't at least attempt to get our app back, what a waste it'll be...'

Everyone looked at each other and then slowly nodded.

'Did you enjoy the bites?' shouted Sohail.

'Yes.' Rohan called out. 'It was... fun...'

Sohail nodded, satisfied. 'Good. Meet me at the tempo.'

*

It was the scariest ride of their lives. Sohail, high on snake venom, drove the tempo haphazardly to Bandra East. The venom seemed to act differently on the gangsters. Some were moody, some were blissful, while a few, like Sohail, were in a state of manic excitement and aggression.

Luckily, they reached Kherwadi with only a few minor scratches and dents on the tempo. Mithun and Feroze, the app thieves, shared a room in a three-storied, ugly chawl. The gangsters armed themselves, despite Rohan and Subhrasree's protestations and the group hurried up to the second floor. Neighbours gawked at the gangsters armed with knives and iron rods and banged their doors shut to avoid any trouble.

'We have attracted too much attention!' muttered Subhrasree.

Sam bit his nails nervously. 'If anyone calls the police... we are in big trouble!'

Rohan knocked on a door, hoping the thieves were in the house.

Mithun opened it and stared stupidly at the large group gathered outside. 'Who the hell are you?' he asked.

'Remember me, motherfucker?' Arun pushed the gangsters aside and stepped in front.

Mithun instantly tried to bang the door shut, but Moon jammed his foot in the door and with a powerful push, burst inside the house. Feroze had stepped out of the bathroom in a towel and he stood gaping at the scene. Sohail grabbed Mithun and slapped him hard. Mithun collapsed on the floor.

Feroze tried to run out of the house, but Moon, Javed and a couple of the gangsters caught him.

Sohail held Mithun by the collar. 'My name is Sohail Bhai. I am a gangster. You stole from my friends... you have to be punished!' He flicked his fingers. 'Give me my sword.'

The venom had made Sohail even crazier.

'Please... there is no need for that,' said Rohan, suddenly nervous.

One of the boys handed Sohail the sword. He laughed, waving it about.

Mithun had tears of desperation in his eyes. 'Please... please... don't...'

'You need to die,' grunted Sohail, maniacally.

'Jesus Christ!' Sam gulped.

Sohail raised the sword, readying for the strike.

'Bhai, no!' shouted Arun.

'Don't!' screamed Subhrasree.

'The police are here!' cried Rohan, who was standing near the window.

Sohail hesitated, the sword still raised high. He looked at Rohan, concerned. 'Is it Crime?'

'What... what crime?' mumbled Rohan.

'Crime Branch!' spat Sohail, anxiously.

'Yes, yes... it is,' said Rohan, quickly.

Sohail lowered his sword. 'We should go.'

'Wait... first they should take down the website and app,' cried Subhrasree.

Mithun fainted in fear and Feroze was trembling like a leaf in a storm, unable to talk.

'Run!' ordered Sohail.

The gangsters instantly bolted out of the house. A few seconds later they heard shouts and the sounds of revving bikes from below the building.

'They have gone,' mumbled Rohan in relief, as he plopped down on a couch, his hands shaking.

There was a moment of silence in the room.

'Now what?' asked Arun.

Feroze uttered a low groan. He was finally able to talk. 'I... I... I'll do anything you want... please don't hurt me...' He begged and started to cry.

Subhrasree narrowed her eyes. 'Open your computer,' she ordered.

# 9

HI STRANGER! was now available on Android and Apple stores. When Mithun and Feroze had put it up, it had only been downloaded nine times in two days. The first day after Spook Labs put it up, despite the good write-up, social media campaign and funky website, the figure was only marginally better: eleven

The focus was now on promotion and the four of them begun doing everything they could think of. They spammed tech reviews sites, emailed bloggers, posted in FB groups dedicated to college students and even distributed pamphlets in coffee shops. They desperately checked the download number of the app every few minutes.

They didn't talk much about the crazy day with the gangsters. Everyone wanted to forget it. There were too many horrible things that had happened that day. Subhrasree did inform the police and PETA about the torture of snakes, even forwarding them the exact location of the place on Google Maps.

Rohan tried to put Suhana out of his mind. It wasn't easy, but being swamped in work helped. It was mid-morning and Rohan looked at Arun, who was typing away on his laptop.

'Dude, can you go down and get me a cigarette?' he asked Arun, politely. 'A few days ago, if you remember, I had got you one and...'

'I'm not talking to you!' said Arun, grimly.

Rohan sighed. 'Man, I'm not interested in your big, fat African woman! How many times do I tell you that?'

'Wow... what a fucking racist!' Arun said, angrily. 'Is this any way to talk about someone?'

Rohan rubbed his head, very annoyed. 'I'm sorry... it's just that it's very frustrating...'

Subhrasree interrupted them. 'Arun, why isn't your WhatsApp working? I'm trying to send you a link.'

'Oh.' Arun looked very guilty.

'What?' asked Subhrasree

'Well, I've changed my number.'

'When?'

'Today.'

'Why?'

'I just did.'

Sam gazed at him, suspiciously. 'What's going on, dude?'

'There was a small problem,' muttered Arun.

'What?' asked Subhrasree.

Arun took a deep breath. 'Don't freak out. It's Sohail Bhai. I had promised him one lakh rupees if he solved our problem...'

Rohan was flabbergasted. 'What the fuck?'

Arun eyed him distastefully. 'Hey, we got the app back, didn't we? So chill.'

'How are we going to pay him that much?' asked Subhrasree.

Arun nodded. 'Exactly. So I changed my number.'

'He'd better not find us,' mumbled Sam.

Rohan was worried. 'This is scary.'

'Shut up, you betrayer, cheater and adulterer.' Arun barked at Rohan.

Rohan rolled his eyes. 'Dude, actually an adulterer is...'

'Shut up!' shouted Arun.

Rohan sighed. He closed his laptop, took some cash and went out. He got his cigarette and this time, studiously avoided looking at Sea Palace. Fuck her! It's over. He had just started walking back when he heard a voice: 'Hey!'

Rohan knew who it was before he turned around. He saw Suhana in her Audi, next to the shop. She beckoned him. I should just walk away.

He walked towards her car.

'Sit,' she smiled, opening the passenger side door of the car and throwing some files on the seat into the back.

Rohan stood near the car window. 'No, it's OK.'

'Come on, I wanna talk to you.'

Rohan reluctantly climbed in. He looked around at the super-posh interiors of the car in awe. It was surprisingly spacious with beautiful ambient lighting. So this is what luxury is. The car smelled of jasmine and roses.

Suhana took off her shades. 'Hey! I'm so sorry about the other night. That was very rude of me. I was a bit emotional and just needed to talk to him...'

Rohan studied her carefully. 'Is Zubair your boyfriend?'

'No. We are just friends.'

'Just friends?'

'I don't want to be in a relationship. Not for a while.'

'So you are not in love with Zubair?'

Suhana was surprised. 'What? No. Why are you obsessed with Zubair?'

Rohan cleared his throat. 'No, no... it's just that you guys were getting along so well... I thought...'

Suhana shook her head. 'I told you. It's not emotional between us... anyway...'

It's not emotional? Does she mean it's physical? Rohan knew it would be very awkward to question her about her sex life, but he needed the answer desperately. He tried to stay calm. He took a deep breath. 'When did you get home that night?'

Suhana frowned. 'I'm sorry?'

He ploughed ahead. 'Did you go anywhere that night with Zubair?'

'You are making me uncomfortable.'

He finally asked it. 'Did you guys do it?'

Suhana was angry. 'OK, this is really, really weird. Honestly, it's none of your business. I was trying to be nice to you... you know what, I'd better go.'

'Yeah, me too.' Rohan tried to open the car door but he couldn't figure out where the latch was. 'Fuck,' he hissed.

'Wait.' She leaned across him, awkwardly, to open the door. Her hand touched his shirt lightly. He could smell her perfume.

She didn't look at him again and he got out, feeling like a fool. He felt angry and confused. He stood next to the car, not knowing what to do. She drove away.

Rohan walked back, his heart heavy. He lit his cigarette and ambled into his flat. Sam came bounding to him and bear-hugged him.

'What the fuck?' cursed Rohan.

Sam kissed him on the cheek. Rohan wiped away the saliva from his cheek, astounded.

'What are you doing?' he barked at Sam.

'It happened,' whispered Subhrasree.

'What happened?' asked Rohan.

Arun laughed. 'The motherfucking app is going viral.'

Rohan watched Subhrasree, Sam and Arun beginning to jump around like children, screaming, yelling and hi-fiving each other.

Spook Labs had made it.

# 10

'So what do you think?' asked Subhrasree.

Rohan looked around the flat thoughtfully. It was a small, but neat, 2BHK, in a quiet Bandra Catholic society. The place would serve the purpose of a house-cum-office very well. It was a palace compared to the dump they were living in. But Rohan knew that moving out of Hawa Mahal meant moving away from Suhana. He dithered, unable to make up his mind.

It had been a month since the launch of HI STRANGER!. They were working round-the-clock, in a state of manic excitement, desperately trying to deal with the numerous snags created by the explosive popularity of the app. It all seemed like a crazy dream. The exponentially growing user base meant there were hundreds of unanticipated problems to solve: bugs, crashes, OS compatibility issues with older phones, customer complaints, server space restrictions and design impediments. They also had to keep viruses and hackers at bay. After a month of intense work, signs of fatigue finally began to show. Their concentration levels began dipping and they made careless mistakes and bad decisions. It became clear that they could no longer manage it all themselves.

Subhrasree felt it wasn't time for big investors yet. She wanted to go a few more weeks, adding more users and giving the company a higher valuation, before she sought professional funding. So she made a list of all their friends and painstakingly collected money from everyone, promising to pay them back in a couple of months.

Her plan was to hire half a dozen interns, three coders and one IT guy. But no self-respecting employee would work in Hawa Mahal, so they decided to look for a new place. After a couple of days of house hunting, Subhrasree zeroed in on the flat.

She narrowed her eyes. 'What are you thinking so much about?'

'Nothing,' said Rohan. 'The place is fine... but...'

Subhrasree sighed. 'The girl, huh?'

He looked guilty. 'No, no... It's just... I don't know...'

'Are you in love with her, Rohan?'

He thought for a moment. 'I think so.'

'Does she love you?'

He laughed derisively. 'What do you think?'

Subhrasree took a deep breath and sat down on the lone chair in the unfurnished room. 'Well, let's talk about it.'

'It's depressing,' said Rohan, uncomfortably.

'What kind of a girl is she?'

Rohan brooded over the question. 'She is actually very nice,' he finally answered.

Subhrasree waited patiently for him to say more.

'I mean, you know, it's like there's no meanness in her,' said Rohan. 'She's perfect, Subhrasree. You know, even though I have nothing, it doesn't seem to bother her. She has always been kind to me. I'm the one who is fucked up and insecure and obsessive.'

'Do you guys get along?'

'I have met her four times. And when I'm not nervous, yeah, we get along. I think we would have been good friends in a different time, different place... if we were in the same social circle, you know. What happened was that I was acting very weird about this guy she seemed too friendly with and she was annoyed...'

'If you truly love her, just don't give up.'

Rohan sighed. 'But she only thinks of me as a friend... no, an acquaintance. There's nothing more from her side.'

'That's because she barely knows you. You have to spend time with her before she can begin to like you.'

'She may be seeing someone else now.'

'So? If something is meant to be, it will be.'

He took a deep breath. 'Yeah.'

'So are we moving into this place?' she asked.

He nodded sombrely.

Subhrasree smiled. 'Good, now cheer up. Things have a way of working out, you'll see.'

*

After checking out the flat, Rohan and Subhrasree headed to the Juhu Starbucks to give their first-ever interview to YourStory – a popular blog that covered the start-up scene in India. Sam and Arun joined them there. The interview went well. They were excited that HI STRANGER! had begun to attract attention.

After the interviewer left, the four of them chilled at the cafe, enjoying the cheery ambience. Subhrasree posted ads for employees and negotiated the rent of the new flat with their broker. Arun and Sam lecherously checked out the cute Juhu college girls around them.

Rohan was in a thoughtful mood. If you truly love her, just don't give up. He opened Facebook on his phone and searched for Ornella. Even if Suhana had made her profile private, maybe he could get info about her life through her friends. From Ornella's friend list, he tracked down Zubair and to his great relief, he noticed that the guy had been 'in a relationship' with some girl for almost a year. There were lots of pictures of the happy couple, the last of which was dated just two days ago. So nothing is going on between Zubair and Suhana. For a month, Rohan had managed to mostly keep Suhana off his mind through sheer force of will, but now, thoughts of her were back with renewed vigour. As he wondered how to get in touch with her again, he felt the familiar sense of longing and pain, mingled with excitement, wash over him. He sighed. Love is like a poltergeist that clings on your back and fucks you.

But things were looking up. His app was spreading like wildfire. Success was close at hand. And when I succeed, I'm going to get everything I want. Including her.

*

'This is strange,' muttered Sam.

'What is?' asked Rohan, distractedly. He was walking around, piece of paper in hand, practising the speech he would have to give that evening. Spook Labs had been invited to speak at TIDBITS, a popular start-up gathering that happened in Mumbai every year.

'Being here,' grinned Sam, looking around the neat flat. 'I'm not used to environments fit for human habitation.'

Rohan smiled. They had moved into the new workspace and hired employees. But the workload was still too much to cope with. They were now adding more than five thousand users every day. After their interview had come out on YourStory, the news had been picked up by other sites and bloggers. Social media buzz had begun and online commentators were posting impressive reviews about their app.

And then the calls had come. It was still too early for a Series A funding with venture capitalists, but angel investors were very interested. These were smaller financiers who put money into start-ups during the early stages.

'Remember how we thought no one would invest in us after the NSC bullshit?' asked Sam.

'It's always business. If there is money to be made, they will come, no matter what we do!' mumbled Arun. He was staring at a Hindi newspaper he had picked up that morning after seeing a photo of Sam on the front page. It was an advertisement for TIDBITS and there were four famous start-up founders featured, and along with them, for some reason, Sam. 'Why the hell is Sam's photo in this paper?' he grumbled. 'Rohan is the one giving the speech.'

'Don't be jealous, dude.' Sam chided Arun.

Arun threw the newspaper on Sam's desk and turned back to his computer. 'I'm not,' he grunted.

Subhrasree had spent considerable time during the last three years meticulously studying financing models and learning from other start-ups' successes and failures. She had already researched various angel investors operating in India and her top choice for funding was Bangalore-based Qwerty. Subhrasree had called them and sent across the business plans of the company. They had responded immediately and she had set up a meeting at TIDBITS, right after their speech. It would be good PR for Spook Labs to get their first funding at a popular start-up event.

'We have to be well prepared for tonight,' said Subhrasree, a little worriedly.

'Why? Everyone wants to work with us. We'll just walk in and take Qwerty's money!' said Sam, grinning confidently.

Arun swivelled on his chair and hi-fived Sam. 'Exactly,' he boomed. He had put the newspaper jealousy behind him.

Subhrasree handed Rohan, Sam and Arun sheets of paper. It was a long list of requirements and dos and don'ts. 'We need to get these things right before the meeting,' she said.

Rohan laughed as he read a few lines from the list: 'Don't contradict each other. Memorize all details of our company. Dress properly.'

'I just want to be thorough.' Subhrasree sighed. 'We have to look professional and serious, both for the talk and the meeting.'

Arun suddenly got up from his chair. 'I'll be back,' he muttered and walked quickly out of the flat.

Rohan stretched, looking around the new office. They had painted the walls a bright red and green, and had arranged the worktables neatly along the walls for the employees. Their new hires were all quiet, well-behaved, nerdy-types. Subhrasree, who had been in charge of hiring, had joked that one Arun was more than enough for the company. Despite his unhappiness about moving away from Suhana, Rohan couldn't deny that the place was a welcome change from Hawa Mahal. There was no cement falling from the ceiling. The corridors didn't smell of cat pee and there was no rubbish strewn about in the compound. We have been too busy to notice we are now living our dream, mused Rohan. Doing what we love and succeeding finally.

Arun returned with a dirty, feral cat and a wide grin on his face.

'What the fuck?' exclaimed Sam.

'Guys, I'm going to be on Tinder,' cried Arun, happily. 'It's time to share my success with women.'

'We already have a dating app,' said Rohan. 'Why use something else?'

'I have my reasons,' shrugged Arun.

'Why do you have a cat with you?' asked Nithya, an intern.

'According to research, if you take your photo with a pet, it's going to be considerably more attractive to the opposite sex,' said Arun.

'What happened to Ornella?' asked Subhrasree, looking up from her laptop.

'After this asshole, Rohan, interfered in my relationship, I decided to end it with her,' said Arun.

Rohan rolled his eyes. 'Dude, come on, I didn't–'

'So it's time for me to find someone new.'

'Don't you have to get injections if the cat scratches you?' asked Vivek, a coder.

Arun ignored him and walked to an empty wall to take selfies with the now annoyed cat, which was hissing and trying to squirm out of Arun's grasp.

'Yeah, a dirty cat and an empty wall,' grinned Rohan. 'That's how you get girls.'

Everyone laughed heartily.

Arun was unperturbed. 'Photoshop, bitches!' he guffawed. 'Just wait and watch.'

*

During the short cab ride from their place to Taj Lands End, where the TIDBITS meet was being held, Rohan mentally rehearsed his speech, while Subhrasree went through the company's business plan on her laptop, one last time. Arun was happily Tindering away. In just a few hours, he had received twelve matches and had already set up a date with a model at the Taj. His astonishing success was the result of his phenomenal Photoshop skills. The empty wall in the photo he had taken had become a villa in the South of France. He was leaning on a red Jaguar F-Type sports car. The cat had been replaced with a Bulldog pup. Arun's looks had changed too. His hair was different, his face now perfectly proportional, rosy and glowing. He was wearing a fashionable jacket and a scarf.

'This is the best cab ride-to-conference ever!' said Sam. 'Guys, do you remember how uneasy we were the last time we were in a car headed to the NSC?'

'Things change,' smiled Rohan.

'Subhrasree, can I use some of the beauty products your mom sent you?' asked Sam.

Rohan laughed. 'Really, dude?'

Subhrasree rolled her eyes. 'They're all yours.'

She had received a huge parcel that day, filled with all kinds of beauty products, but primarily skin whitening creams. Her parents wanted to get her ready for marriage and felt that if her skin tone could be made a few shades lighter, it would help them secure a satisfactory groom. Subhrasree had contemptuously tossed the parcel aside.

Rohan studied her thoughtfully. 'When do your parents want you to get married?'

'They are waiting for me to finish my studies,' sighed Subhrasree.

'But you've already finished.'

Subhrasree smiled. 'I told them I had failed. So I have one more year.'

'And what happens next year?'

'I don't think I'll get more time.'

'OK, but you are still going to be working with us, right, even if you're married?' Arun looked at her, concerned.

Subhrasree bit her lip. 'If my husband allows me...'

Sam was shocked. 'Are you kidding me? Are we living in medieval times? How can you give up on Spook Labs, on us, on what we are building?'

'Can we worry about this later?' asked Subhrasree.

'You are an adult,' stated Rohan, a trace of anger creeping into his voice. 'Just tell your parents you are not going to get married now.'

Subhrasree didn't say anything.

'Why haven't you told us this before?' asked Sam.

'Because I knew you guys would freak out.'

'You have to stand up for yourself,' said Rohan.

'Against my parents? No.' Subhrasree took a deep breath. 'You guys won't understand and I don't want to talk about this anymore.'

'We are so fucked,' muttered Arun.

It was a tense, worried group that entered the Taj.

'I take back my words,' said Sam. 'This is the worst cab ride-to-conference ever!'

# 11

They were ushered into an elegant VIP waiting room. It was adjacent to the pool and had a great view of the hotel gardens. There were other guests in the room, sitting on the plush red couches. Rohan recognized a couple of big start-up players. The four of them introduced themselves and made chit-chat.

In a corner was a large table with snacks and they decided to get themselves tea and samosas. Subhrasree looked Arun up and down critically. He was the only one not dressed in formals. He was wearing a specially ordered hoodie with 'Founder of HI STRANGER!' written in large letters on the front and the back. He had on blue jeans and sneakers.

Arun caught her glance. 'I told you. This is Silicon Valley style,' he said, defensively.

They had already had a long argument about the hoodie in the house and Subhrasree didn't want to start quarrelling again. She scowled and looked away.

'If we are dressing in founder hoodies, we should all wear them, not just one person.' Sam grumbled.

'We should all have had our photos in the papers too,' retorted Arun, annoyed.

Rohan was still thinking about Subhrasree quitting the company. 'Can't you make your parents understand?' he asked.

'I don't want to talk about this,' she said, moodily.

Rohan sighed. 'But...'

'Excuse me.' A girl from the organizing team walked into the room. 'We're ready for you. Please follow me.'

Theirs was the closing speech of TIDBITS and the massive Grand Ballroom of the hotel, with its mirrors, chandeliers and rich red carpets, was packed with a young, eager crowd. As Rohan started his talk, he realized he was feeling more excited than nervous. This was different from all the other talks he had given. He wasn't trying to win over a jury or pitch an idea or convince someone to invest in them. He was talking about their success.

After explaining the purpose and functionalities of the app, he gave insights into the design and coding process. He spoke passionately about its future potential. The speech went very well. Most people were hearing about HI STRANGER! for the first time and were intrigued.

He finished his talk and the audience clapped enthusiastically. As he was smiling and looking around at the cheering crowd, he happened to notice a tall, dark man standing in the back of the hall, leaning against the wall. He had a grimace on his face and seemed vaguely familiar. Rohan wondered where he had seen him before. The host called Subhrasree, Sam and Arun onto the stage and introduced them to the crowd. When Rohan looked towards the back again, the man was gone.

After the speech, the four of them were accosted by a large group of audience members in the hotel lobby. They fielded questions from aspiring entrepreneurs, posed for selfies, gave advice to young start-up founders and shared their social media details. After half an hour of commotion, they were finally able to get away.

They were in high spirits as they headed to the business suite where their meeting with Qwerty was scheduled.

'You know, Siddharth Agarwal is here,' said Sam.

'Where?' asked Rohan, looking around.

Sam shrugged. 'He was inside, listening to the talk.'

'Motherfucker! He must be so pissed off at seeing us do well,' grunted Arun.

'Was he one of the speakers?' said Subhrasree.

'Nope,' said Sam.

'I wonder why he is here then,' she muttered.

They walked inside the business suite. There were three people sitting around a large table in the luxurious room. Sudhir and Rupa Subramanium, the heads of Qwerty, were a no-nonsense power couple in their early forties, who had invested in dozens of early-stage start-ups. Dressed in matching cream coloured clothes, they looked haughty and serious. The other person in the room was Vivek, a geeky and morose twenty-six-year-old who advised Qwerty on all things 'youth-related'.

The introductions were quick and Subhrasree began a fifteen-minute presentation, focusing on HI STRANGER!'s growth rate and the vision Spook Labs had for its future. Rohan studied the angel investors and was surprised to see they seemed quite fidgety and distracted. He had assumed the meeting was just cursory and that the investment was a sure thing. The communication on Skype with Qwerty had been very promising. They had been very eager to invest in HI STRANGER! Why else would they travel from Bangalore for the meeting? But now, something was wrong. Rohan wondered if it was the talk he had given. Did I say anything to unnerve them?

Subhrasree finished the presentation and waited for the questions.

Sudhir cleared his throat. 'You know, the idea is really great and it has a lot of potential, but I don't think it is for us.'

The gang looked at each other, confused.

'I don't understand,' said Subhrasree. 'If you have any queries we can answer them.'

Sudhir shook his head. 'No, we don't want to commit to anything right now. Maybe in the future.'

'It seems your mind was made up before this meeting,' said Rohan.

'Yes,' said Sudhir, uneasily.

'But then why bother to come to Mumbai at all?' asked Sam.

'We were given some information after we got here,' said Rupa, a little coldly.

'If you are not investing, that's perfectly fine, but at least tell us what we are doing wrong...' beseeched Subhrasree.

'We met someone quite important,' said Rupa. 'And he had a very bad opinion of you all.'

Rohan knew who it was. He laughed, mirthlessly. 'Siddharth Agarwal.'

Arun gritted his teeth. 'He got us out of NSC when we refused to sell him our idea.'

'He told us he'd wreck our careers... that's what he is doing,' cried Sam.

'He's a good friend of mine,' countered Vivek. 'I trust his judgement.'

'So that's how he's able to influence Qwerty,' said Rohan, sarcastically.

Vivek raised his eyebrows. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

Subhrasree put her laptop in her bag and got up. 'You've met us... if you don't want to work with us, that's perfectly fine, but at least make the decision a logical, well thought-out one and not one based on hearsay. Our idea is hot. There are lots of financers who want to invest in us. Siddharth Agarwal won't be able to stop us forever.'

'If you don't call back by tonight, we'll know your answer,' said Rohan.

The four of them walked out.

*

It was evening and most of the people who had come for TIDBITS had left. They headed to the garden bar. The sun was setting. They sat under a fluttering tent bathed in golden yellow light. There was a cool sea breeze and the view was beautiful. But the group was too angry to notice it.

'What a despicable piece of shit!' snarled Arun. 'I want to kill him!'

'It's just not fair,' said Subhrasree. 'Is he going to torpedo us forever?'

'There should be something we can do!' cried Rohan. 'What if we write an article and put it on social media about how he is harassing young entrepreneurs?'

Subhrasree shook her head. 'He's a hero to many. It'll only end up creating PR issues for us.'

'This country worships cheats and thugs,' grunted Arun.

'That is totally true. But guys, chill. We'll find other investors. Everyone wants to work with us,' said Sam, reassuringly.

'I wanted to work with Qwerty,' complained Subhrasree.

'Well, they might still change their minds,' said Sam.

'Unlikely,' muttered Rohan.

'There is no point moping around,' said Subhrasree. 'We'll just have to find a new investor and if Siddharth Agarwal derails that... we find a new one...'

Rohan glared at the blinking lights of bobbing buoys in the distance. 'One day, I swear to God, I'll get back at him.'

Arun's phone buzzed. 'She's here,' he gasped, perking up suddenly and scanning the people around them. 'She says she is wearing a red dress.'

Sam noticed a tall, attractive girl standing at the bar. She was wearing lots of make-up and had sunglasses on, even though it was now dark. Her red skirt was very short. 'No fucking way, dude,' cried Sam, pointing at the girl.

Arun chuckled. 'That's her! I told you she's a model.'

Sam stared at the girl, wide-eyed. 'But... how?'

'I'm a Casanova, guys! I can get any girl I want,' said Arun, proudly.

'So the dirty cat and the empty wall actually worked.' Subhrasree was astonished.

'I'll never understand women,' sighed Rohan.

'Well, introduce us to your girl,' said Sam.

'Are you fucking kidding me? Not with this philanderer around!' He looked darkly at Rohan. 'Now, excuse me. I have to get laid!'

*

Sandhya had grown up in a small impoverished village in Haryana. The day she was born, her father had cried with grief. He had desperately wanted a boy. For Sandhya, modelling was about survival. Her successful career was the result of sheer will power, determination and cunning. She would do whatever it took to get to the top.

Every month, Sandhya would send half of what she earned to her family. Her family now had a nice pucca house and a Maruti Swift. They had money and respect. Everyone in her village knew Sandhya had made it big in Mumbai, the city of dreams. Her four siblings, one brother and three sisters, were now studying in good schools. She would lie awake at night thinking of her past. Am I still a burden, father? Look at all that I have done for you.

Sandhya had not gone back to visit her parents. She had always made excuses about how busy she was, but in her heart she knew the truth. She was frightened to go back. She felt she would regress back to the scared, bullied, helpless little girl she had been. She had decided she would only marry a millionaire. Her children would have everything.

Arun's profile on Tinder seemed promising. He was wealthy, reasonably attractive and ran a start-up. Sandhya had heard about how lucrative the start-up world was. Young people were making millions these days.

Arun walked up to Sandhya. 'Hi,' he said, a little awkwardly.

Sandhya ignored the short guy, who was badly dressed in a hoodie. She was used to constant fawning male attention. She looked around wondering where her Tinder match was.

'Hi, aren't you Sandhya?'

Sandhya sighed. A lot of annoying people knew her from her modelling work and her scantily clad Instagram pictures. 'I don't want to talk to you,' she muttered.

Arun was taken aback. 'Why?'

Sandhya raised her voice. 'Leave me alone, you idiot.'

Arun was astonished. People had begun to stare at them. 'But we were supposed to meet... you know, Tinder...' he said, hesitantly.

Sandhya was shocked. 'I was supposed to meet Arun... not you.'

'I... I'm Arun.'

Her mouth dropped. 'You don't look anything like him.'

'Better or worse?' asked Arun.

Sandhya rubbed her head in frustration. 'I wasted my whole day talking to you, wasted my money coming here from Lokhandwala...'

Arun was crestfallen. 'I...'

'You cheated me!' Sandhya flared up.

'I'm sorry. I thought...'

'You're a pathetic loser.'

'Oh, wow... it's you!' shouted a young man.

Arun and Sandhya turned to see three posh-looking guys in their early twenties. They were beaming from ear-to-ear and hurriedly walking over towards them.

Sandhya took a deep breath. 'I can't deal with any admirers right now,' she muttered.

But the guys completely ignored Sandhya. 'Dude, you are like our God!' cried one, suddenly hugging Arun.

Arun was amazed. 'What?'

'Are you really the founder of HI STRANGER!?' asked another.

Arun looked down at his hoodie. 'Oh, yes... actually, one of the founders...'

The guy was too excited to talk. 'My name is Akshat, bro. The app has changed our lives, bro. Bro... thank you... thank you...'

The third person noticed Sandhya. 'Listen... sorry to interrupt your date...' He said to Arun. 'But we just had to come over and congratulate you.'

'Always great to hear from our fans.' Arun grinned.

'Akshat, let's go! We are disturbing his date,' said his more perceptive friend.

But Akshat was too engrossed to move away. 'You are a genius! Like an Indian Zuckerberg!'

Sandhya was listening intently. 'Who is Zuckerberg?'

'The guy who created Facebook, duh,' said Akshat.

Sandhya was dumbfounded. She had heard about the Facebook founder. He had become a billionaire at twenty-three. She looked Arun up and down. Despite his antics with the fake Tinder profile, he had a certain innocence about him. She had dated worse people; violent businessmen, B-grade producers and cheating male models. How bad could it be? It would be an investment. If he made it, she would reap great rewards. And there could always be other guys on the side...

Akshat finally decided to leave them alone. The three guys took a selfie with Arun and after a final round of hugs, walked away. Arun turned to go before things got worse with Sandhya.

'Wait,' she said.

Arun was worried. 'Listen, I'm really sorry... I thought...'

Sandhya sighed. 'Buy me a drink.'

*

After leaving theTaj, Rohan, Subhrasree, Sam and Arun decided to stroll around on Bandstand. It was a pleasant December night. They could see Christmas stars and trees on balconies and hear carols being practiced in homes. The promenade was crowded, with people coming from all over Mumbai to enjoy the waves and the breeze. People were chatting, jogging and buying toasted corn from vendors. In dark nooks, couples made out. Expensive cars lined the promenade, with teenagers sitting on bonnets and smoking. There was the usual crowd of fans outside Shah Rukh's and Salman's homes, waiting for a glimpse of the stars.

Arun was super excited after meeting Sandhya. To everyone's astonishment, the thirty-minute date seemed to have gone really well. As they walked, Subhrasree made a mental list of other angel investors to approach and Sam puzzled over Arun's extraordinary luck.

Rohan had begun to feel more optimistic. He remembered how well his talk was received. Subhrasree hadn't left the company yet and maybe she wouldn't. As far as financing was concerned, Qwerty saying no was not the end of the world. They would find a new investor.

Seeing happy couples sauntering past him, holding hands, he was reminded of Suhana. Had she heard of HI STRANGER!? Did she ever think of him? Was she seeing anyone? How lucky her last boyfriend had been and what an idiot he was to break up with her. He desperately wanted her to know he was now becoming successful. One of the questions he had been asked after the talk was 'How did you get the idea for HI STRANGER!?' He hadn't answered that. It was his secret. It was a memory he wanted to keep to himself. He wouldn't share it with anyone.

As he walked with his friends along the promenade, he once again replayed the night on the terrace. He had made the app because of Suhana. He had wanted to desperately talk to the girl he loved, one last time. Rohan knew he had to get in touch with her again! Maybe things would be different now.

He stopped to glance back at a teenager sitting on a bench, playing a guitar. Just as he was about to turn away, he saw the man. It was the person from the talk, who had been standing at the back of the hall, in the dark. Their eyes met and the man instantly turned away, pretending to talk on his phone. Who is he? Is he following me?

The man disappeared into the crowd. Rohan caught up with the rest of the gang, feeling a little uneasy. They found a wide, comfortable ledge next to some rocks and sat there listening to the thundering waves. Everyone was quiet, lost in their thoughts.

Subhrasree handed her phone to Rohan to click a picture of her and as he was framing the shot, her phone rang.

'It's Qwerty,' said Rohan, surprised.

'Answer it,' cried Subhrasree, excited.

Rohan cleared his throat. 'Hello?'

'Hi, this is Sudhir.'

'Rohan here.'

'OK, listen, we have reassessed the situation with HI STRANGER! and we want to invest. We are really sorry about the misunderstanding earlier.'

'Oh...'

'Can we talk more tomorrow? Have another meeting?'

'Yes.'

'Great. We'll set it up for mid-morning. Once again, we are sorry about what happened.'

'OK.' Rohan hung up. 'They want to work with us,' he said, but with a frown creasing his brow. Something had suddenly struck him.

'Woohooo!' Subhrasree leapt up and hi-fived Sam and Arun. They noticed that Rohan was licking his lips nervously, looking very worried.

'What's wrong?' asked a bewildered Sam.

'Guys, I had seen someone during my talk... standing at the back...'

Arun was confused. 'Wait... what are you talking about?'

'There was this tall, thin, dark guy,' said Rohan.

'I saw that weird guy too,' said Sam. 'You know, he looked familiar.'

Rohan paced around, anxiously. 'Exactly. And then I saw him just now. It's like he's following us. I thought it was just a coincidence, but I think I know where I've seen him before!'

'Where?' asked Subhrasree.

Rohan took a deep breath. 'He was part of Sohail's group.'

'What?' Arun gulped.

'That's not possible,' said Subhrasree. 'Those guys are not going to show up at the Taj, they are just street goons...'

'Unless they knew we were going to be there,' said Sam.

Subhrasree shook her head. 'There is no way they can know that.'

'Could that fucking gangster be stalking us on social media?' asked Rohan.

'He doesn't know our full names and I doubt if they've heard of Twitter and Facebook,' said Arun, contemptuously.

'Oh, no!' cried Sam. 'It's the paper! The Hindi newspaper, remember? My photo was in it! And so was the date and venue of our talk! Someone in the gang must have seen it.'

'We need to get away... now!' whispered Rohan.

They began walking hurriedly away from the promenade towards the road to get into one of the parked autos, when a group of bikes skidded to a stop nearby. Sohail's gangsters jumped off the bikes and fanned out, towards the autos. Rohan wondered if he should cry for help. But they were in a dark corner of Bandstand, inside a small park near the water's edge. It was unlikely that the few people near them would interfere in any way.

The gangsters had switched on their phone torchlights and were closing in on them from all sides. There was only one escape.

'Come on,' cried Rohan, as he led the group back to the ledge where they had been sitting.

'Where are you going?' asked Sam.

Rohan climbed down from the ledge onto the rocks below. After a moment's hesitation, the rest of them followed. It was high tide and the waves were crashing at their feet. They slowly walked along the slippery rocks, staying as close to the parapet wall as they could. They crossed the Bandstand promenade and saw a rubbish-strewn path cut up from the rocks onto a narrow lane, with small one-room houses on both sides. They walked along this lane and came to the main road.

In the distance, they could see the parked bikes. A dozen moving torchlights told them that the search was now concentrated near the ledge they had been sitting on.

Sam stopped a taxi and immediately clambered inside. Rohan and Arun jumped in too, but Subhrasree stood outside, hesitant.

Rohan glared at her, annoyed. 'Hurry! Let's go before they notice us!'

But Subhrasree pursed her lips, looking at the bikes, deep in thought.

'What are you thinking? Let's go!' cried Rohan, angrily.

'No,' she said, firmly.

Everyone looked at her, shocked.

Subhrasree was grim. 'If one of them was at TIDBITS, like you guys say, then they already know all our names. They can easily track us down, once they start following us on social media... Are we going to be afraid of them for the rest of our lives? Are we going to stop going to public events?'

'What are you planning?' asked Rohan.

'I'm going to talk to Sohail,' she said.

Arun was dumbfounded. 'He's going to attack you!'

'No, he's not.' Subhrasree hurried away from the cab.

After a moment's hesitation, Rohan, Sam and Arun scrambled out of the car and ran after Subhrasree, hoping to talk some sense into her.

'I hope we're not spotted till we reach Sohail,' she said, nervously.

'Stop! Why do you have to be like this?' hissed a panting Sam.

She fixed him with her eyes, without slowing down. 'All of you please shut up and let me do the talking. We have to give them some of the money Arun stupidly promised. We have no choice.'

Arun was scared. 'We've been avoiding Sohail and he knows that. He will be furious that we tried to cheat him.'

'Not we, you,' muttered Rohan.

The gangsters were searching among the rocks and Sohail was sitting alone on his bike, smoking, a scowl on his face. He was looking in the direction of the promenade and didn't see them approach.

Subhrasree stepped up close behind him. 'Finally!' she roared at him. 'Look who is here!'

She stood with her arms crossed, pretending to look furious. Sohail spun around, hands clenched, ready for an attack. Seeing Subhrasree staring at him, a look of surprise and confusion crossed his face.

Before he could say or do anything, Subhrasree shouted at him. 'You ran away from that house and left us to deal with the criminals...'

'Wait... I–' Sohail began.

Subhrasree cut him off. '...and now we find you after more than a month... loitering here! Well, you failed us. If you want to work with us again, you have to do better than that.'

Sohail felt an explosive fury building inside him. No one dared talk rudely to him. He clenched his hands and gritted his teeth, trying to make sense of what Subhrasree was saying.

'So what explanation do you have? Why have you not met us before?' she asked.

Sohail rubbed his head in frustration. 'This guy's phone wasn't working.' He nodded at Arun, who shivered a little as the gangster's eyes fell on him.

'You know; I was hoping we could work together for a long time.' Subhrasree cleverly softened her tone. 'I mean, I saw how you beat the guys in the coffee shop and the production office. That was so brave. You were so tough and impressive...'

Rohan, Sam and Arun stood next to Subhrasree, their hearts in their mouths. They noticed how the mixture of criticism and praise did the work.

Sohail sighed. 'The police came and that's why I had to run that day. It wasn't just regular police; it was Crime Branch.' He looked embarrassed.

'So can we rely on you for other work?' she asked.

'Yes!' said Sohail, emphatically.

'What about the money? Now, you didn't get our work done... you left before...'

Sohail interrupted her. 'But I showed up, didn't I?'

'How about we give you ten thousand rupees?'

Sohail shook his head, angrily. 'Seventy-five.'

Subhrasree looked shocked. 'No way!'

'Fifty,' he growled.

'No. That's too much.'

But before the negotiation could carry on, Arun interrupted them. 'Actually, that is totally fair, Bhai, we'll give you fifty thousand.'

Subhrasree directed an angry glance at Arun, who was looking very relieved.

Sohail nodded, pleased.

Subhrasree sighed. 'Fine, let's walk to the ATM.'

# 12

Rohan felt panicky as he gazed at the high-rise towering above him. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He was in the Bandra Kurla Complex, a commercial hub in the Western Suburbs. The large, modern building in front of him housed AVEG Finance Limited, the financial services company owned by Suhana's dad. It occupied three floors of the building and offered investment advisory to wealthy individuals and corporates.

Rohan had found out where Suhana worked and had then sent her office an email asking for a meeting with her. He had introduced himself as a start-up founder who was interested in getting into a partnership with her family's foundation for philanthropic works. He had found out from Ornella what her NGO did and had created a similar proposal. Suhana had agreed to meet for further discussions.

Rohan wondered what her reaction would be. She didn't know his name, so she would be expecting to meet a stranger. When she saw him and recognized him, would she feel annoyed, or happy, or... nothing? No matter what her reaction, Rohan had decided that at the end of their meeting, he would tell her he loved her and ask her out.

Rohan walked to a parked car and checked himself in the side view mirror. He was dressed in new clothes – white shirt and blue jeans. His hair was gelled and neatly combed. He had borrowed Sam's first-copy Cartier watch and was wearing a lot of Arun's D&G perfume.

The meeting was scheduled for 8 pm, but Rohan had arrived half an hour early. It was a warm evening and as he didn't want to sweat standing outside on the pavement, he decided to hang around inside the building in the AC.

Rohan took a deep breath, steeling himself and walked into the massive lobby. He gave the security guards his name and they pointed him to the elevators. He got off on the eighth floor and walked into the AVEG office. Almost all the office workers had left and there was an eerie silence on the floor. The secretary sitting at reception looked at Rohan. 'Yes?'

'I have a meeting with Suhana. I'm Rohan.'

The secretary checked her computer. 'Oh, yes. Ma'am will see you at eight. Please take a seat.'

Rohan nodded and sat on a couch nearby. He looked around the room. One of the walls was textured and had a stream of water flowing down it. There was a collection of impressive bonsai trees neatly arranged on a counter and strange looking sculptures in corners. A long corridor stretched out from the lobby area, opening into other rooms.

'Is her dad's office also here?' he asked the secretary.

She shook her head. 'Sir's office is on the floor above.'

Rohan was too nervous to sit still. He noticed a line of paintings stretching out along the corridor. 'Can I check out the art?'

The secretary hesitated, then shrugged.

Rohan walked slowly along the corridor. There was no one in sight. Now that he was close to putting his plan into action, doubt flooded his mind. It could all go wrong. He might end up embarrassing himself. What if a partnership with Suhana's foundation actually worked out? How would he back out? His company was still in its infancy. They were barely managing to cover the operating and expansion costs; how could they think of CSR now? He hadn't told the gang about the meeting. They would be horrified to know that he was planning social service campaigns at this time.

The sepia-hued drawings and paintings of Indian flora and fauna were by English artists. Rohan walked by, blankly staring at them, his mind whizzing. He suddenly realized that he didn't want Suhana to see him loitering around her office and was about to head back to the reception, when he heard a laugh. He instantly recognized it.

Beside him, through an open door, he could see a large room with rows of computer desks and cubicles. The lights were switched off and it seemed empty. He hesitated, looking around to see if anyone was watching him, before slowly entering the room.

There was a cabin next to where he was standing. And next to it, was what looked like a break room, with a table set in a corner with a coffee machine, water cooler and a bowl of fruits. Glass panes separated the rooms and he could see into the break room clearly. He gaped at the two people in the room. What the fuck? Suhana, wearing a black skirt and a white shirt, was leaning back on a chair, her hands casually playing with her hair. Sitting close to her was Zubair, who was in an oversized basketball jersey, his legs comfortably stretched out on a table. Rohan felt furious. Why is that motherfucker here? But then, he reminded himself to not make the same mistake as last time. He wasn't going to behave like a jealous idiot and screw up his one chance of talking to her.

He stood frozen, staring at them. He knew that if Suhana saw him spying on her, that too in her own office, it would be the end of any potential relationship with her. But it was dark where he stood and they didn't notice him.

Much to Rohan's amazement, Zubair began stroking her hair. What kind of friendship was this? Couldn't she see he was flirting? What about his girlfriend? Where was she? Didn't Suhana care about her? Zubair ran his fingers slowly down her neck, tickling her. She giggled. He put one arm around her and with the other he tenderly moved her face towards his. He brought his lips to hers. They kissed, slowly at first and then passionately. She grabbed his short hair, her eyes closed, while he moved his hands up and down her body. Rohan gulped. Despite the sudden pain that pierced through him, he could see from the kiss that this was not their first time. They were comfortable and there was absolutely no shyness, no hesitancy. They had obviously been having an affair for some time.

She then broke away from the kiss and playfully pushed him away, laughing. 'I'm still at work,' said Suhana. 'I have a meeting at eight.'

'Fuck the meeting,' said Zubair, his voice husky.

'I wish,' she sighed. 'You know; I don't think you should come here. I don't want my dad to know I'm getting a guy into the office.'

Zubair looked up at the ceiling, thoughtful. 'Baby, let's go away for a bit.'

She got up, arranged her dress and hair, composing herself. 'Where to?'

'You tell me. London? Paris? Amsterdam?'

'I can't do a long vacation now.'

Zubair was disappointed. 'No?' he groaned.

'I could do a weekend,' said Suhana.

'Where to?'

She shrugged. 'Does it really matter?'

Zubair laughed. 'No, it doesn't. I don't think we'll step out of our hotel room anyway...' He grabbed her playfully. 'Come on, one last kiss before you go.'

Rohan felt sick. His lips were dry, his palms were sweaty and he felt an excruciating pain clench his heart. What the fuck just happened? What a fool I am, coming here. He stepped out of the dark room and hurried away.

Everything seemed to blur around him. The secretary called out to him as he left the office, but he didn't care. He desperately needed to get out of the building. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

Rohan walked to a nearby shop in a daze and got himself a cigarette. He paced around the pavement, puffing at it furiously. He realized that the pain was too much for him to think coherently. He was confused and upset and angry. He felt completely betrayed. So his instincts had been right about Suhana and Zubair from the beginning. It was no friendship; it had always been a romantic relationship. Suhana had lied to him about it when he had asked.

Tears began flowing down his face. All this while, he had believed that success would somehow get him Suhana's love. That was so stupid. It didn't matter how successful he became or how much money he made.

Some people were lucky. He was not. The most beautiful thing in the world is to be loved by someone you love. I'll never know that feeling. He laughed at himself derisively. It was ironical how his app was connecting people, helping them find love, while he was as lonely and unhappy as ever.

He had to put Suhana out of his mind. Some things were just not meant to be.

# Part 2

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# 13

Six months later

Rohan stepped out of his bedroom and stretched.

'Bhaiyya, tea is ready,' said the maid promptly.

'Bring it outside,' he yawned, grabbing his laptop and heading to the balcony. 'Has everybody left?'

'Yes, Bhaiyya.'

It had been the third straight night of partying with his new film industry friends. Money makes you popular, Rohan mused. He had a slight hangover and he promised himself once again that he would avoid weekday parties from now on. He sat on a comfortable settee in the large balcony, squinting at the Arabian Sea stretching out in front of him. He was on the fifteenth floor and the late morning view was spectacular. The founders of HI STRANGER! had moved into a penthouse in the Imperial Towers, a luxurious, residential high-rise in Bandra, overlooking Bandstand.

Rohan sipped tea as he checked his email. Then, as was his daily habit, he went to Facebook to scan Suhana's profile. He had made a fake account for himself and had managed to befriend everyone in her group. Now, he had access to all the posts, photos, status updates and tags of Suhana and her friends.

It had been over six months since that horrible night in her office. With the help of social media, he was able to piece together her Zubair love story. He didn't know exactly when they had started dating, but it must have been around the time he went to her office, because a few days later, Zubair had posted his first Instagram picture with Suhana. He wondered when they had first slept together. Was it the night he had met her at Bungalow 9? Was that why she had been so defensive when he had asked her about Zubair a couple of days later?

Rohan thought back to the Halloween party for the millionth time. There had been a moment when he had said something about her being too nice to be a model and she had looked at him, for a little too long. He had seen a sparkle in her eyes then. She had definitely felt something for him. So much had changed in his life since then, except his obsession with her. If anything, it had gotten worse.

His phone buzzed. It was a call from his mother. He sighed, as he cancelled the call. His parents were overjoyed at his success and wanted to come to Mumbai to see his office, but Rohan had made excuses. He had begun resenting them. When I was struggling, where was your love for me, your belief in me? Rohan realized that he had become quite surly of late. He was annoyed by little things and quick to anger. He was not quite sure why.

The Series A round of funding had come from Rubix Capital, a Silicon Valley behemoth. To sweeten the deal, they had bought some of the founders' shares in secondary sales, which meant that Rohan and the gang suddenly had a whole lot of money in their personal accounts. Rubix shared the founders' vision of taking HI STRANGER! global. Rohan looked at the clear blue skies, thoughtfully. This is a dream come true. And yet, I'm not happy.

A message from Subhrasree popped up on his phone screen: 'When are you coming? We have a concall with Rubix today!'

Rohan groaned. Can't I get a little time for myself? The work had become more hectic than ever and he wasn't particularly enjoying it anymore. They now had close to a hundred employees and as they prepared for their international launch, the four founders had had to transition from creators to managers.

The house phone rang. The maid answered it and then peeked into the balcony. 'The security guard says someone has come to meet you.'

Rohan was excited. 'Oh yes, send him up.'

A few minutes later, a short, stout man with a pock-marked face entered the apartment. Rohan studied him with great interest. Shripat Kamble, who was in his late fifties, had retired as a senior inspector of the Mumbai Police and now ran a private security agency. He had been referred to him by the son of an industrialist Rohan partied with.

Shripat took a seat, his eyes darting around shiftily, as the maid brought him tea and biscuits.

'You could have come to the office,' said Rohan.

'It's better to keep our meetings confidential,' said Shripat.

'Oh.'

'So you said you wanted someone followed?'

'Yes.' Rohan felt embarrassed. 'It's... a girl.'

Shripat nodded, solemnly. 'Only followed?'

Rohan looked at him, surprised. 'What do you mean?'

'We can hack into her email and her social media profiles. We can tap her calls. Her friends' and family's too. Or we can even take it further.'

'Further?'

'Cameras in bedrooms, that kind of thing.'

'No, no... I don't want that.' Rohan was astonished. 'But... things like that can't be possible!'

'For the right price, everything is possible. I used to work in the police. I have contacts and can get these things done.'

Rohan got up and paced around the room. He knew he was about to go down a dark road. 'I want her followed,' he said, finally. 'I want to know where she goes, who she meets, how often she meets them... is she only sleeping with her boyfriend...' Rohan stopped himself. 'That's all we'll do. Nothing more.'

Shripat nodded. 'For now,' he muttered.

'And how often will I be informed of her whereabouts?'

'That depends on you.'

'Every day?'

Shripat shrugged. 'Or real-time, which means you know where she is and who she is with at any given time. We send the information, including photos, to your phone. But that service is expensive... we'll need to have a team on her twenty-four hours and...'

Rohan waved his hands, dismissively. 'I don't care about the cost.' He took a deep breath. This is not wrong. I'm doing this because I love her. 'How soon can we start?' he asked.

Shripat finally sipped his tea, relaxing. He smiled. 'Now.'

*

The HI STRANGER! offices were in a swanky, new building in the Bandra Kurla Complex. Occupying a whole floor, the interiors had a colourful, fun vibe. Almost all the employees were in their early twenties and there was a frenetic energy to the place.

Rohan was distracted and couldn't wait to finish work. He was grumpy as he handled the day's business: doing an interview with a local magazine, attending the concall session with Rubix, getting a briefing from the company lawyer and brainstorming with his marketing and design team.

Subhrasree had established the 'Daily Founder Meet' for the four of them to discuss strategy every evening. She didn't want them to lose sight of the big picture because of the daily grind and petty issues that tended to clutter their schedules. As Rohan headed to the conference room for the meeting, he grimaced. Of late, Subhrasree had been constantly badgering him about his lifestyle and the daily meet was when she usually brought it up. It's my fucking life! Who's she to interfere?

But there were other things on her mind that day and the four of them discussed the upcoming international launch. Rohan often glanced at his phone, excited about the stream of messages coming from the security agency. Half an hour ago, he had been informed that Suhana had left her office and had reached her house. Now, she was in a coffee shop in Khar with two of her friends. The agency had sent him a photo of the three of them and he had recognized the two girls with her.

'Hi guys!' said a loud voice at the door.

Arun beamed. 'Hey.'

Sandhya stood peering into the conference hall. With her were her model friends, two girls and a guy. They were all dressed to party; the girls in short, shimmering black dresses, while the guy was in a white shirt and a gaudy maroon suit.

'What do you want?' asked Subhrasree, annoyed at the interruption.

Sandhya pouted. She ignored Subhrasree. 'It's Friday night.' She told Arun. 'Let's party, baby.'

'Yes, yes... just give me five minutes. Why don't you wait outside, Ladoo?' Arun blew her a kiss.

'Don't be late,' she ordered and followed by her posse, stormed away.

'We're just started the meeting,' complained Sam.

Arun raised his eyebrows. 'So?'

'So you can't leave in five minutes,' hissed Subhrasree.

Arun shrugged. 'No, I need to go. We'll continue the discussions tomorrow.'

'Why are your friends roaming around my office and strolling into the conference room?' she asked, angrily. 'This is a workplace.'

'Actually, I'm leaving now.' Arun got up, irritably. 'You know, Subhrasree, it's not just your office,' he grunted. 'Anyway, I don't want to argue with you now. Rohan, you coming?'

Rohan hesitated for a moment. 'Well, I don't want to miss the party.' He looked apologetically at Subhrasree and Sam.

'Do whatever you want,' said Subhrasree, scowling.

Arun looked at Sam, but he shook his head. 'I have work,' he muttered.

'Dude, chill, just do it tomorrow. We are hitting Trilogy with models,' said Rohan.

But Sam didn't respond. He turned to his laptop.

*

They had bought a BMW X3 SUV as the company car. Rohan was sitting in the back and next to him was Sandhya's model friend Nidhi, their legs touching. Rohan wondered if the girl was hitting on him, but his thoughts were abruptly cut off when Arun suddenly swerved the car dangerously into the Sea Princess hotel compound. People stared as the car screeched to a halt at the entrance, Bollywood pop blaring from it.

The bouncers outside Trilogy, the hotel's popular nightclub, knew Rohan and Arun well, thanks to their regular thousand-rupee tips and waved their group to the front of the long weekend party line.

The club had two floors, good DJs, great ambience and trippy ceiling lights. They were ushered into the VIP section. Rohan made himself comfortable on a golden couch and looked around at the party crowd. The place was especially known for the expats it attracted and the film and fashion crowd. He ordered drinks for everyone and then basked in the attention his group seemed to be receiving, thanks to the models with them.

Rohan checked his phone for updates on Suhana. She and her two friends were still at the coffee shop. Nidhi, who was sitting opposite him, tried to catch his eye. She smiled sweetly at him. She was reasonably attractive; tall and thin with nice, shapely legs. There wasn't much he could talk to her about though. While sitting next to her in the car, he had realized that they didn't have any common interests. All she had seemed interested in was fashion industry gossip and bitching about her model friends. Rohan wasn't a fool. He knew she was more interested in his money than him. But is that so bad?

An outer porch had a great view of the sea and Rohan got up, drink in hand and headed there. He smoked a cigarette as he checked Suhana's Facebook profile. He got a terrible shock. Her relationship status now showed she was married. His heart thundered. What the fuck is going on?

'Why are you standing alone?' asked Nidhi, materializing next to him.

'Huh?' Rohan ignored her and desperately tried to find out who Suhana was married to. It turned out to be a girl, one of her close friends. It was evidently just a joke. He sighed with relief.

'Are you OK?' asked Nidhi.

Rohan smiled. 'Yeah.' He felt a sudden exhilaration knowing he still had a chance with Suhana.

'Do you want to dance?' Nidhi asked him coyly.

'I don't really know how to,' said Rohan.

'I'll teach you.' She took hold of his hand and led him to the dance floor.

*

After Trilogy, they hit Olive Bar. Rohan had received an update that Suhana was there and he had felt a desperate need to see her once again. No one else in the group was particularly interested, the plan being to head to Lokhandwala for a house party and it had taken a lot of cajoling to drag everybody to the posh bar.

The group found a candlelit table and ordered drinks and kebabs. Rohan studied the people around him. Olive was frequented by Mumbai's rich and famous and everybody was checking out everybody else; what people were wearing and who they were with. Everyone there had money, so what mattered was fame and power. A big Bollywood star and his entourage received the maximum appreciation and envious glances. Rohan was amused at the silly games the rich played, but then he realized he was one of them now. If I'm at Olive in a BMW and with a bunch of models, I've made it.

Rohan had been looking around for Suhana, but he couldn't see her. He double-checked the list of update messages from the security agency. There was nothing new, so she must still be here. Sandhya happened to meet a large troop of her model friends at the bar and their group swelled to double digits. Rohan announced he was taking care of the bill that night and ordered more drinks for the newcomers.

'Have you been here before?' Nidhi asked Rohan.

He shrugged. 'I come here often.'

'Let's take a walk. Show me the place,' she whispered.

Rohan guessed she wanted to be alone with him. They walked along the crowded open-air seating area and made their way inside, where a band was playing. Nidhi took his hand and squeezed it gently.

People had gathered around the band and as Rohan tried to make his way past them, he bumped into a tall figure, spilling the guy's drink.

'Careful,' hissed Zubair.

Rohan gaped at him. 'Oh, hi,' he mumbled.

Zubair didn't recognize Rohan. His eyes lecherously ran over Nidhi for a moment and then he walked away. Rohan stood frozen. He saw Zubair disappear into the crowd and quickly followed him, dragging a surprised Nidhi along. Zubair went to a nearby table and Rohan saw Suhana sitting there with two friends. She seemed her usual perky self, laughing, with a wine glass in hand.

Rohan felt clumsy and nervous just seeing her. He also felt guilty and ashamed of the way he had been spying on her. He stared at her, hoping she would see him in the crowd, but she was caught up in a conversation and didn't look in his direction.

'Are you gay or something?' asked Nidhi.

Rohan gazed at her, absentmindedly. 'Huh?'

'I asked if you are gay.'

'What?'

'Why are you following him?'

Rohan shrugged. 'Oh, I think I know that guy.'

'That's Zubair,' said Nidhi.

'How do you know him?' asked Rohan, surprised. For the first time that evening Nidhi had his absolute attention.

'He's quite popular among the models,' she grinned.

'Does he work in fashion?' asked Rohan, realizing that despite all his stalking of Suhana's group, he still had no clue about what Zubair actually did. He had assumed that like a lot of the rich South Bombay brats, Zubair just spent his dad's money. But maybe he was wrong.

Nidhi sniggered. 'No, he doesn't. He just beds many models.'

Rohan was thoughtful. 'You know, he's dating a... um... friend of mine now. Maybe he has left it all behind. Maybe he has changed.'

Nidhi was amused. She looked at him like he was a child. 'Playboys don't change,' she laughed.

Rohan studied Suhana sombrely. It was a long time since she had seen him. Would she even remember me now? He had met her just a few times and that too more than six months ago. What if she doesn't recognize me? That was a chilling thought. He was too terrified to find out. He knew he wouldn't be able to deal with it. It was best to get out of the bar. Staying there, near her, would only end up upsetting him, especially since she was with Zubair.

But he was unable to just walk away. He stood, uncertain what to do, until Nidhi squeezed his hand. 'Let's go to a quieter place,' she said, as she pulled him to a dark enclave, away from the band and the crowd. Rohan was reeling after having seen Suhana and only came out of the trance when Nidhi pulled him next to her onto a small couch and suddenly kissed him on the lips.

She was an expert kisser and teased him gently with her tongue. But Rohan couldn't do it and he suddenly broke away from her. Knowing that Suhana was nearby was making him too distraught. I'm so mind-fucked. He didn't want to be in that place any longer.

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled.

Nidhi sighed. 'Whatever.'

He got up to leave but hesitated, not wanting to hurt her feelings. But how could he explain to her what he was going through? He sighed. There was no point. She wouldn't understand.

He hurried out of the bar.

*

Rohan took a taxi home. He felt he wasn't drunk enough and so bought a Glenfiddich bottle on his way back. As he entered his penthouse, he got a new update from the security agency. Suhana had left the bar with Zubair. Fucking hell. He wondered where they were heading. He assumed that, like most of Mumbai's rich, they must have flats littered around the city, one of which they would use for the night. Rohan didn't want to think about it anymore. To spy on Suhana real-time was the worst decision he had ever taken. It was driving him crazy. I have to stop this.

He saw Subhrasree and Sam working at the living room table. He nodded morosely at them.

'I need to tell you something,' said Subhrasree icily.

Rohan sighed. 'I'm drunk and fucked mentally right now. Can't it wait till morning?'

'No. It's best you hear it as soon as possible,' she stated. 'If you guys don't get serious, I'm quitting the company.'

Rohan rubbed his head, annoyed. 'Subhrasree, you're overreacting, it was Friday night, that's why we left early...'

Subhrasree glared at him. 'I don't want to argue with you. You and Arun are drunk every evening, both of you don't show up for work till noon and when you do, you have no interest in working. You are the CEO, Rohan! Behave like one. Rubix informed me today that they are very concerned...'

'What did those guys say?' asked Rohan, angrily. 'If they have any issues they should talk directly to me.'

Subhrasree crossed her arms. 'You've changed. You're not the person I started working with.'

Rohan ignored her and walked into his room, banging the door shut. What a fucked-up day! Fuck Rubix. Fuck Subhrasree. Fuck Suhana. Fuck everybody. He told himself that Subhrasree was just emotionally blackmailing him. She wasn't going to quit. Not when we have the world by the balls.

Rohan got a message stating that Suhana was now back home and Zubair had left. Rohan sighed in relief, knowing he wouldn't have been able to sleep that night if they had spent the night together. He mirthlessly opened the Glenfiddich bottle. There was no water in his room and as he didn't want to encounter Subhrasree by stepping out, he gulped down mouthfuls of the strong Scotch, neat. He grimaced as it burned his throat and then slumped on his bed.

There was somebody else he had become quite obsessed with of late and he went to Facebook and Twitter to check what the person was up to. The grudge he had once held had now become a raging inferno, as he had obsessed about all the insults and setbacks he had suffered because of this person. He noticed that they were both to be speakers at the National Start-up Conference in two weeks' time.

Rohan immediately perked up. A plan was forming in his mind. It was time to teach Siddharth Agarwal a lesson.

# 14

The National Start-up Conference was as bustling and exciting as ever. Rohan let his mind wander for a moment, thinking about how far they had come. He looked at Subhrasree, Sam and Arun, sitting beside him on the stage, prim in their stuffy, formal clothes and being interviewed by the CEO of a tech giant. This is some surreal shit.

The interview with the founders of HI STRANGER! had turned out to be one of the most popular sessions at NSC, with a crowd that dwarfed even the one at the Siddharth Agarwal talk. Rohan and gang talked about their struggle, friendship, failures, victories and ambitions for the future. Every second answer from them seemed to elicit applause from the eager crowd.

After the session, the organizers quickly led them to a part of the hotel lobby that was cordoned off to avoid the crowd. They were planning to attend the next session, a panel discussion with a group of investors and had half an hour to kill.

'One year ago we were nobodies. Now look at us!' Arun grinned.

Rohan went to the snack table and poured out a cup of tea. He walked over to where Subhrasree was sitting, working on her laptop and offered it to her. 'Here you go,' he said awkwardly.

'Hey, what about me? Where is my tea, Rohan?' asked Arun, laughing.

'I also want some,' chuckled Sam.

Rohan ignored them. He cleared his throat. 'I'm sorry, Subhrasree, about...' His voice trailed off. What was he sorry about? He didn't even know. Things had been strained between them for a while now. They rarely talked and when they did, it was mostly to argue. He didn't want it to continue this way. She hesitated and then took the cup.

Sam was very amused. 'Awwww... look at the love he has for her.'

Rohan glared at Sam, annoyed, as he plopped down on a comfortable chair.

'But not for us,' chortled Arun. 'Rohan, you motherfucker, get me some tea also!'

They heard commotion at the hotel entrance. In the distance, at the other end of the lobby, they could see a crowd beginning to gather. Rohan suddenly leapt up from his seat and ran towards the sound.

'What the hell is with him?' wondered Arun.

At the entrance, Rohan pushed past the crowd to see a dozen policemen standing around and quarrelling with the hotel staff. From one of the VIP waiting rooms, out came Siddharth Agarwal, being led away by two burly constables.

'What's going on?' shouted Siddharth Agarwal, with indignation. 'Do you know who I am?'

'You are arrested on charges of drug possession, sir,' said a senior inspector. 'We have found half a kilogram of cocaine in your car.'

The crowd gasped in shock. Siddharth's mouth dropped. 'That's not possible,' he said, stunned. 'I... I don't do drugs.'

The media personnel covering NSC had now converged on the spot, taking photos and firing questions at Siddharth. Rohan stepped forward and joined them, as he took a video of Siddharth in handcuffs on his phone.

'Hey dude! Fuck you, you drug dealing criminal!' Rohan bellowed, gleefully. 'You have brought great shame on start-ups.'

Siddharth seemed dazed and Rohan noticed fear on his usually arrogant face. It felt so good. Rohan jeered at him: 'Your parents should be ashamed of you!'

After Siddharth had been taken away in a police van, Rohan happily gave an impromptu speech to the gathered media personnel about the danger of narcotics becoming popular among start-up founders and how people like Siddharth Agarwal had to be punished to keep impressionable youth away from drugs. The media lapped up his words.

*

Rohan drove the BMW along the busy Khar Danda road, a narrow lane with slum shacks and tiny shops dotting both sides. Subhrasree, Sam and Arun couldn't stop talking about what had happened.

'It's just shocking,' muttered Subhrasree. 'Why would he carry so much cocaine with him?'

'Maybe he was planning to sell it,' said Sam.

'Dude, he's worth millions,' protested Arun. 'He doesn't need to sell drugs.'

'Must be for a party then,' said Subhrasree.

Arun was thoughtful. 'How much coke does a person take at a party?'

Nobody knew.

'Is it better than alcohol?' asked Sam.

Subhrasree shook her head. 'I don't want to find out.'

Sam was thoughtful. 'You know, despite everything that has happened in the past, I feel bad for him.'

Rohan stopped the car next to a dilapidated mechanic shop.

'I have cigarettes, man. Don't stop,' said Arun.

'It's not that,' said Rohan, grinning at them. He made a call. 'Yes, I have arrived,' he said.

'What's going on?' asked Arun.

'Wait and watch,' muttered Rohan.

'What the fuck?' cried Sam.

They saw Sohail walking towards the car, chewing paan, with a couple of his gangsters walking beside him. Much to their astonishment, Rohan got out of the vehicle and clapped his hands, excitedly. 'Well done, Bhai! It was perfect. How did you manage it?'

Sohail shrugged casually as he spit out the paan juice. 'Security was tight at the hotel. Getting to the parking lot with the drugs was the hard part. But once there, we unlocked the car, put the drugs inside and called our Malvani tipper, who informed the cops.'

Rohan took a parcel wrapped in newspaper out from under the car seat. 'I have already paid you for the drugs. Here's the five lakh rupees for the job.'

Sohail grinned, checking the amount quickly. 'If you want anything else, let me know.'

Rohan nodded. 'Yes, yes.'

Sohail peeked inside the car, waving at everyone and then strolled away.

*

Rohan gulped down the whisky, grumpily, eyeing the people dancing around him. The trance music was deafening and the lights hallucinatory. Large bubbles were floating in the air, which the crowd was trying to pop. He and his friend Akash, the son of an industrialist, were at a foam party. Lather poured down from machines in the ceiling, covering the dancefloor and reaching up to his waist. There were four girls in their group, none of whom Rohan had seen before that night. In the colourful, pulsing and whirling lights, the girl next to him took off her skirt to whistles and catcalls from her friends.

The semi-naked girl suddenly threw foam at Rohan's face. 'Your turn now,' she giggled, naughtily.

But he was in no mood for it. He turned and trudged through the foam and water, away from the dance floor.

Rohan stepped out into the balmy night and looked around. The party was being hosted at a bungalow near Aarey Colony, a forested area in the suburbs of Mumbai. He could hear the drone of crickets over the sounds of the party. He lit a cigarette, standing on the bungalow porch. He was drenched, smelling of soap and feeling annoyed.

Akash came out. 'Wanna do lines?'

Rohan shook his head. 'No, man.' He had not tried drugs. Yet.

'OK, I'm going upstairs with the girls. Listen, if you wanna have fun, join us in our room before they pass out...' he chuckled.

Rohan nodded. He watched Akash scurrying away and then strolled into the garden of the bungalow, finding himself a bench. He sat listlessly, mulling things over. He had destroyed his enemy. Of course, Siddharth Agarwal had managed to get bail in no time and Rohan knew that the guy wielded considerable clout and would not be penalized. The investigation would be squashed easily. But Siddharth Agarwal's carefully cultivated reputation was now in tatters. All along he had cleverly marketed himself as a youth icon and a neo-nationalist and people were furious at being let down. He was attacked viciously on social media and investors were distancing themselves from him. The hero had become the villain.

Instead of thanking him for vanquishing their enemy, his friends had been very disturbed by what he had done. Sam had raged on and on about how it was morally wrong. Subhrasree had been deathly silent, with only contempt for him in her eyes. Even Arun had not supported him.

But more than anything else, what bothered Rohan was that he felt no satisfaction, despite wrecking his enemy's life. He told himself that Siddharth Agarwal deserved it and mentally listed all the grudges he held against the guy: the dinner at which Siddharth's parents had humiliated him in front of his parents, Siddharth's attempt to steal Troll Hunter from him and then to derail the angel investment for HI STRANGER!.

Rohan felt no contentment at having taken his revenge. Just an inexplicable, overwhelming unhappiness at everything. He felt tired and empty and was in no mood to party. But he didn't want to go home either. Subhrasree usually worked late and he didn't want to face her when he got back. So he asked the event manager organizing the party to arrange a room for him in the bungalow. When he got to the room and hit the bed, he fell into a fitful sleep.

*

It was noon when Rohan strolled into the penthouse. He was surprised to see Sam and Arun still at home. 'Not at work?' he asked.

'We tried to call you but your phone was switched off,' said Arun, irritably.

Rohan shrugged. 'Yeah... the battery died. I was with Akash at...'

'She's gone, dude.' Sam interrupted him.

'What?'

Sam glared at him. 'Subhrasree left.'

'What do you mean left?'

'She quit,' said Arun.

Rohan laughed. 'You're kidding.'

Sam was seething. 'It's your fault.'

Rohan gulped. This wasn't a joke. 'She... she can't quit. I mean, she owns part of the company, she has shares and everything, right? She can't just walk away.' He hastily walked to Subhrasree's bedroom. 'Is she here? Let me talk to her.' Rohan opened the door and looked around. The room was empty, the cupboards open. Her things were gone.

'She took an early morning flight,' said Sam. 'She's with her parents in Siliguri.'

Rohan rubbed his head, stunned. He couldn't believe what had happened. He couldn't imagine running the company without her. 'She'll come back, this is just temporary,' he muttered.

Arun shook his head. 'She's out for good. We fucked up.'

'What the hell? She can't do this. She can't just leave,' cried Rohan.

'Check your email. She's forwarded her resignation letter to Rubix,' growled Sam.

Rohan was angry. He glared at Sam. 'Why didn't you stop her?'

'Don't blame me, Rohan,' said Sam, furiously. 'You fucked up. You're not ready for the big time. You can't handle it. You can't shoulder the responsibility, that's the truth. You wanted to play gangster, didn't you? Well, your games have backfired. Now pay the price. She is gone.'

# 15

As the next few weeks passed, Rohan could see that things were spiralling out of control. He felt miserable. He had pleaded with Subhrasree to come back, but she had firmly refused. So he had had no choice but to find a replacement for her. The new CFO was a smart IIM-Stanford grad, who had just moved back to India after a five-year stint with Bay area start-ups. It was only after Subhrasree had left that Rohan realized just how many things she had been handling at the company. The new CFO had impossibly large shoes to fill and although Subhrasree helped him remotely with the transition, the company was no longer functioning smoothly.

Rohan knew that Rubix had lost all faith in him. From his increasingly strained conversations with the VC firm, he could tell they were looking for an excuse to get rid of him. It made him furious to think they might kick him out of the very company he had created. Meanwhile, the international launch of HI STRANGER! had been postponed.

Arun's behaviour was becoming more and more erratic. Of late, he had begun posting drunk, expletive-laden tweets, ramblingly attacking all his perceived enemies, which included other start-up founders, investors and even Bollywood actors when he hated their films. Strangely, his notoriety had actually made him a media darling. Rohan couldn't understand it. The worse they behaved, the more famous they seemed to get and the more fans and followers they attracted. They had become the 'bad boys' of the Indian start-up scene, with write-ups, editorials and social media debates furiously discussing how they had been let down by the system and how the world failed to understand their genius. They had become a staple of the Page 3 scene, getting invitations to everything from film premieres and art exhibitions, to high-society events and hip Mumbai parties. Such positive reinforcement of their unruly behaviour only made them go more crazy. There was even talk of a movie being made about them.

Sam had become gloomy after Subhrasree left. He rarely spoke to Rohan or Arun and had begun drinking heavily. Like the other founders, his work performance began suffering too. The employees of HI STRANGER! ploughed on, despite the bad and mostly absent, leadership.

Rohan could see that things were getting from bad to worse, but he couldn't figure out the reason. Subhrasree had believed it was the drinking and the parties that were the problem, but Rohan felt those were symptoms, not the cause. The parties were a distraction because he was unhappy. But why was he unhappy? What had changed? Where did his passion go? Why wasn't he motivated to work anymore? Maybe I burnt myself out. I flew too high, too fast.

*

'Let's do a Eurotrip,' suggested Akash.

Rohan and Arun looked at each other. 'Can we?' asked Arun eagerly.

'I dunno. Rubix will freak out if we leave the country.' Rohan laughed.

'Well, fuck them,' said Arun, glowering.

Rohan shrugged. 'I need to think about it.'

It was 2 am and Rohan and Arun were chilling at Akash's bachelor pad, a 4BHK in a luxurious residential tower in Worli. Akash hated his family for a series of real and perceived grievances. He was an only son and his busy parents had tried to compensate for not spending time with him by showering him with money.

The usual crowd of pretty girls was not with them that night. Rohan and Akash had been partying hard for the past few days and wanted to relax for a change.

But Akash was a party fiend, with no other interests in life. He began planning the next bout of revelry. 'See, we'll do Ibiza-Berlin-Amsterdam-Barcelona-Ios-Krakow,' he said. 'That's the hottest party circuit these days. I want to check out the latest underground trance.'

Arun grinned. 'Sounds good.' He noticed a line of cricket bats kept neatly in a glass case on the far side of the living room. 'What's with that?'

Akash followed his gaze. 'It's my father's collection. They belong to different famous cricketers, collected over the years. This is my house now; he should take his fucking things away.'

'Doesn't he own a League cricket team?' asked Rohan.

Akash nodded as he emptied some coke on the glass living room table and made lines. He rolled a note and offered it to Rohan, who shook his head. 'I haven't done this before,' he muttered.

'There's always a first time,' coaxed Akash.

'I might end up an addict,' protested Rohan.

Akash laughed. 'Are you kidding me, dude? Don't believe what society tells you about drugs! Do it moderately and you'll be fine.'

'What the hell.' Arun sighed and took the note. He had seen his model friends do it enough to know the method. He snorted a line, blinking his eyes. 'Wow.'

Arun offered the note to Rohan, who finally relented and did a line. The feeling was euphoric. Rohan felt a sudden surge of confidence, his problems disappearing. 'Fuck it. Let's do the Eurotrip,' he cried.

'Hell, yeah.' Arun jumped up and high-fived him.

Rohan was pacing around the room, excitedly, thinking about the Eurotrip, when he got a call from Shripat Kamble. 'Hello?' he boomed into the phone.

'We have the first recording,' said Shripat.

'What recording?'

'You said you wanted to listen to their phone conversations.'

Rohan beamed with pleasure. 'Oh yes, yes.'

'It's from earlier today. Right now, we are only tapping conversations between the girl and the boy. If you want more people included...'

Rohan interrupted him. 'Send it to me.'

'It's already been emailed.'

'Great.' Rohan hung up.

He grabbed Akash's laptop and hurried to the large balcony of the flat. He opened his email anxiously and downloaded the mp3 file. He played it.

Zubair: Hey, baby.

Suhana: Hi.

Zubair: Where are you?

Suhana: Work.

Zubair: Still?

Suhana: Yeah.

Zubair: Do you have a bikini?

Suhana (laughing): Why?

Zubair: Because I have never seen you in one. I'm having a pool party this Saturday at my resort and it's a good opportunity to flaunt your hot body.

Suhana: How many people will be there?

Zubair: About twenty.

Suhana: Then, no. I don't want to be in a bikini in front of so many.

Zubair: OK, maybe Sunday evening, when we'll have the place just to ourselves.

Suhana: Wait a minute, I can't do Lonavala this Saturday.

Zubair (sighing): Why?

Suhana: I have the art event.

Zubair: What event?

Suhana: My friend has his exhibition at Jahangir. I told you about it.

Zubair: I don't remember. Is he that artist I once met?

Suhana: Yes, Kabil, my school friend.

Zubair: How boring. Fuck it.

Suhana: No, Zubair, I'm going for it.

Zubair: Come to the pool party.

Suhana (thinking): OK, maybe after the exhibition. But I'll get there only by 11 pm or so.

Zubair: That's fine.

Suhana: So what are you doing tonight?

Zubair: Chilling with weed.

Suhana: I finish work in an hour. Do you want to go out for dinner?

Zubair: Fuck dinner. Come to my flat. I want you, baby! Thinking of you in a bikini...

Suhana: I'll see you around 10. But first, we'll do dinner at a nice place. OK?

Zubair: Yeah, yeah, fine.

Suhana: Bye.

Zubair: Bye.

Rohan was disturbed. He had long stopped trying to get in touch with Suhana, being satisfied with just stalking her. He had become used to the security agency's twenty-four-hour updates on her, but the audio recording was dangerously intimate and emotionally overwhelming. The balcony was large enough for him to walk around and around in a wide circle. He wondered what to do. He wanted more audios. But why stop at that? That's not enough. I want something more.

He phoned Shripat. 'It's me,' he said. 'Listen, I need...'

'Please don't use any names,' said Shripat, hurriedly.

'OK. I need the... the camera thing... you once spoke of.'

'Yes.'

'How soon can this happen?' asked Rohan.

Shripat was thoughtful. 'Well, the best location to set-up cameras will be the boy's Peddar Road flat, as they go there at least two or three times a week. This can be done in two days.'

Rohan dithered. 'It's a posh place with security. It might not be easy...' Should I be doing this? Do I really want to see her in bed?

'It's as good as done,' said Shripat, confidently.

Rohan hung up. He walked back into the living room. 'Akash, bro, I need another hit. I feel fucked, man.'

Akash grinned. 'That's the spirit, boy.'

They did more coke. Rohan paced around the apartment. 'Fuck them all,' he shouted, feeling power and energy fill him up.

'Yeah,' agreed Arun.

'You know what,' bellowed Akash, jumping on a couch and taking off his T-shirt. 'I wanna fight. This VC you keep talking about, where the hell is he? I'm gonna fuck him.' He punched the air, savagely.

'You're a good friend,' said Rohan, approvingly. 'But the VC firm is halfway around the world.'

Arun narrowed his eyes. 'But, guys, they have their India-operations office in Worli.'

'That is true,' said Rohan, elatedly. 'Maybe we can send them a message.'

'We'll break everything in their office!' yelled Arun.

'Wooohoooo...' Akash jumped around, doing karate moves against an invisible opponent.

Rohan rubbed his chin. 'But won't we need... a weapon... to destroy the place?'

They all thought for a moment and then eyed the far end of the living room. Akash's father's invaluable cricket bats were gleaming brightly.

*

They sped to the Rubix office in Akash's red Ferrari. Rohan was very pleased with the effects of the coke. It seemed to have built a warm, cosy, confident layer between him and the world. He phoned Sam from the car, inviting him to join the fun they were about to have. Sam was horrified and tried to coax him out of it, unsuccessfully.

The car screeched to a halt outside a large building. The three of them scampered out, giggling like school children. Rohan and Arun had visited the Rubix office before and the two security guards standing in the lobby knew who they were. Many of the offices in the building operated twenty-four hours and the security guards didn't stop them, gazing at the Ferrari parked outside, admiringly. 'Beautiful car, sir,' said one guard.

'Are you going to play cricket at this time, sir?' asked another, surprised at the bats the three were carrying.

Arun grinned. 'Something like that.'

They took an elevator to the floor of the Rubix office. To their delight, the office had a glass pane door and they swung their bats at it. The glass shattered and as the alarms started going off, they clambered inside. They switched on the lights and started destroying everything around them – computers, wall hangings and furniture. In the middle of it, Arun had an idea – to live stream the incident on Facebook. He talked gleefully into his phone camera as he swung the bat.

By the time Sam arrived at the building and rushed to the Rubix office, it was long over. Rohan, Arun and Akash were cheerfully sitting on the corridor floor, handcuffed, as teams of private security personnel and policemen studied the damage. Sam cringed when he saw that a few reporters had already arrived and flashes were going off.

A constable looked at Sam, suspiciously. 'Is he with you?' The man asked Rohan.

'Yes,' grinned Rohan.

The constable narrowed his eyes, studying Sam. 'Did you have anything to do with this?'

'What?' asked Sam, confused.

'It was his idea,' said Arun. 'He is our ring leader.'

Rohan, Arun and Akash rolled on the floor, laughing uncontrollably, as the policeman handcuffed a stunned Sam.

*

The cops didn't even take them to the police station. After the reporters had gone, they were quietly dropped home. Rohan assumed it was because Akash was with them. The police knew that Akash's father was too powerful a man to offend.

Sam lay on a sofa, lethargically looking at the ceiling. He wasn't really surprised at what had happened. It had been building up to this. They had not been able to handle the success. He had known for a while that it was just a matter of time before they self-destructed.

'You know what this means...' muttered Rohan. His head was clearing at last and the effects of the drugs were wearing off.

'We are done,' said Arun. 'The Board will fire us.'

'Well, technically we are almost half the board though, aren't we?' mused Rohan. 'We can fight if we want... create some drama...'

'Do what you want,' retorted Sam. 'But I'm voluntarily resigning tomorrow morning.'

Rohan grimaced and looked at Arun. 'What about you?'

Arun thought for a while and then shook his head. 'No, dude. I don't have it in me. I want out.'

Rohan took a deep breath. 'At least we went out in style.'

'So what now?' asked Arun.

'For me, a beach somewhere, far away from this city,' said Rohan.

Arun nodded. 'Cool. We can go...'

'Hey, man...' Rohan interrupted him. 'Please don't take this the wrong way, but you are no good for me, dude. You are going to fuck my life up. It's better we go our separate ways.'

Arun stared at Rohan for a moment, hurt, but then he shrugged. 'Whatever.'

# 16

Subhrasree bit her lip as she concentrated on stirring the shukto with a flat wooden spoon. She opened a bottle of salt and took a pinch of it. She sprinkled it onto the boiling curry, and then hesitated, looking weakly at her mother, who was inspecting the dish, over her shoulders. 'Is that the right amount of salt?' asked Subhrasree.

Her mother sighed. 'No, it's not. And you have put too much bitter gourd in the curry.'

'But, when you showed me, I think you put this much...'

Her mom lost her temper. 'The quantity you're making is half of what I made. So shouldn't all the ingredients be proportionally lesser? It's unbelievable. I have done everything I can to teach you, but you just won't learn!'

Subhrasree's shoulders slumped. The cooking lessons had been going on for more than a month and still her dishes were barely palatable.

Her mom snapped her fingers and two maids, who were hovering around watching Subhrasree cook, bustled forward. 'She'll keep making this...' Her mom ordered the maids. 'Till she gets it right.' Then she glared at Subhrasree. 'I'm not going to let you shame our family at your in-laws' place. They will be horrified that we have raised such an unladylike daughter.'

'Won't they have cooks and maids?' asked Subhrasree.

'And who is going to oversee them? You! If you can't cook, how can you order others? Half your life is going to be in a kitchen from now. You'd better get ready for the responsibility.'

Subhrasree became teary-eyed. Her mom flashed her a look of disgust and stormed away. The maids gently patted her back, consoling her. They had been with the Dasgupta family for years and had seen Subhrasree grow up from a naughty tomboyish child to a pretty young woman.

'The groom's family is very big in Calcutta. They are said to own twenty-five cars and eighteen buildings,' said one of the maids.

'You'll live like a princess,' said the other.

Subhrasree didn't say anything. She knew her life wasn't going to be anything like that. She had met Shubhojit and his family and they had been a cold, haughty bunch. They had come to her house and her parents had fussed over them like they were royalty. The conversation had started with a detailed discussion of the dowry. They had made extravagant demands; for not just money, but cars, gold and property.

Shubhojit had looked bored throughout the visit. When she had been alone with him in the garden of her bungalow, he had barely even bothered to talk to her, remaining aloof and uninterested. Since he was most likely being forcibly married to her by his family, for money and caste reasons, it wasn't that surprising that he seemed to dislike her. Maybe he loved someone else. The only time he had become lively was when she had asked him about the only thing that really mattered to her. Could she work after marriage?

He had laughed, absolutely astonished. 'Don't let these words even slip out by mistake in front of my mother.' He had advised her. 'Or, she'll crucify you.' He had been amused to see her crestfallen. 'The world is a brutal place,' he had stated, philosophically. 'You have lived a pampered life so far. Well, it's time to experience reality. You'll give me three children and keep the house organized. Do this well and we'll leave you alone. Fail and I promise you... there will be severe consequences.'

Subhrasree had tried to talk her parents out of the match, but they had made up their minds and would brook no argument. It was then that she realized that coming back home to her parents was the worst mistake she had made in her life.

'I'll do this later,' muttered Subhrasree, putting the spoon aside.

The maids exchanged a glance. 'But Madam said...'

Subhrasree walked out of the kitchen and made her way to her bedroom on the first floor. She didn't know what to do. She was trapped. The TV in her room was on and tuned to a business channel. To her surprise, a report on HI STRANGER! was going on. She increased the volume curiously. The story focused on how an Indian product had crossed over to the global market. The founders' names were briefly mentioned and Subhrasree felt a pang of regret thinking about the old days.

Her parents didn't know anything about her start-up career and probably never would. Most of the press and bloggers had been obsessed with Arun and his crazy antics. The drama had been too good to not cover. Subhrasree, on the other hand, was only mentioned briefly in the various articles and she knew her parents or even her relatives would not have connected her to the company. And now, what was the point of telling them? They wouldn't understand or appreciate what she had done. The app had been launched internationally almost a month ago and was a hit worldwide. She knew her friends were all out of the company, although they all still owned considerable amount of stock.

She desperately wished she could go back in time to the dingy Hawa Mahal flat. She had never been happier in her life than during those days when she was working on what she loved, with people she loved. She had cut herself off completely from Rohan, Sam and Arun. She didn't answer their calls or emails because she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it. The regret at the loss of her past life would be too much to bear.

She lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. For a long time, she had avoided thinking about how bad her married life would be, rationalizing and distracting herself, but it was time to prepare for the very worst. She would never be able work in tech again. It was over.

The emotions overwhelmed her and Subhrasree sobbed like a child.

*

Rohan strolled along a mud path in the midst of lush, green paddy fields. A pair of lapwings flew nosily past him. The majestic ruin of the stone temple in front of him, a remnant of the ancient Vijayanagara Empire, sparkled in the golden light of the evening sun. Rohan liked Hampi. The quiet town in Karnataka had perfect weather, beautiful scenery and a rich history. The neo-hippie culture that had sprung up in the place had made it popular amongst Bangalore college students and foreign backpackers.

Rohan passed by the temple and cut across a thick mango grove to get to the riverside resort. It had been almost three months since he was thrown out of his company. He was surprised at how much it hurt to have his baby taken away from him. He had left Mumbai, wandering from place to place in a state of despair and confusion, before deciding to settle for the foreseeable future in Hampi. He didn't know why, but the place had somehow calmed him. It was probably the serene palaces and temples, or maybe it was the slow pace of life in the quiet, rural town. Sometimes he reminisced about the past, but it always left him sour and moody. It suited him to be cut off from the outside world. He didn't have his computer with him and only used the internet once or twice a week when he visited a nearby cyber café. He had deactivated his social media accounts, not wanting to know what the world now thought of him. No one knew or cared about his past in Hampi and it was liberating.

He waved at Ari, a middle-aged Israeli man, the owner of the resort he was staying at, who was pruning bushes near a shack restaurant.

'Someone has come to meet you,' called Ari.

Rohan was surprised. 'Who?'

Ari shrugged and nodded towards the river. Rohan followed a dirt track to the river bank. He grinned on seeing Sam and Arun, sitting on rocks, staring at the water. 'What are you fuckers doing here?' he exclaimed.

They turned around and beamed at him. 'Dude, why is your phone switched off?' asked Sam.

'I haven't used a phone in more than a month.' Rohan laughed. It was good to see his friends. 'Well, how did you find me?'

'I have my ways,' said Arun.

Rohan narrowed his eyes. 'No one knows I'm here.'

Arun looked a little guilty.

'How?' asked Rohan again.

'OK, don't be angry, but I hacked into your email account and saw the reservation details for this resort.'

'What?'

'I'm sorry, but I had to track you down.'

'This is fucked. How did you manage it?' asked Rohan, annoyed.

Arun shrugged. 'I hired someone from Silk Road. It cost a fortune.'

Rohan scowled.

Arun changed the subject. 'Do you think about... what happened with us?'

Rohan sighed. 'Sometimes. We fucked up, didn't we?'

Arun was grim. 'We weren't ready for the big time.'

'So how is Sandhya?' asked Rohan.

Arun shrugged. 'We broke up. And how is Audi Girl?'

'I have no idea,' said Rohan. He had finally managed to wean himself off his dark obsession with Suhana. He knew he still loved her, but he had given up. She had brought out the worst in him. Now he knew they were never meant to be together.

'Weren't you about to watch her sex videos?' asked Sam.

'Dude! I didn't do that, all right,' protested Rohan. 'I didn't go that far.'

'Only because you left the city.' Sam interjected.

'Yeah, possibly.' Rohan faced up to the truth. 'What kind of a person had I become?'

'You know what the issue was?' said Arun, throwing pebbles into the water. 'It became about girls and money and fame... and buying a fucking BMW... that's not why we started, is it?'

'It was about the work, man, about doing something exceptional, about creating something special,' said Rohan, quietly. He fixed his eyes on them. 'So what do you guys want? Why are you really here?'

'Subhrasree is getting married,' said Sam. 'Day after tomorrow.'

'Oh.' Rohan thought about it for a moment. 'I hope she is happy,' he said. He felt hurt. She should have at least told him, maybe emailed an invitation for the wedding. After everything they had been through, did he mean so little to her?

'She's going to be unhappy, man,' said Arun. 'The guy she's marrying is seriously fucked up and so is the family.'

'Did she tell you about the guy?' asked Rohan.

Arun shook his head. 'No, I haven't talked to her.'

'Did you hack into her email?' said Rohan, suddenly.

'Well... yeah... but only because I care. And also the guy's email and computer. Dude, he has a string of girlfriends, a fetish for taping all his sexual acts, has been involved in a couple of serious fraud incidents and there is worse... he killed three labourers a few years ago, drunk driving.'

'That was an accident though, right?' asked Rohan.

'Yes and it was covered up easily, but don't you see the personality of the guy? Imagine living with a ruthless, crazy, alcoholic, sex maniac.'

'Have you told her all this?' asked Rohan.

Sam sighed. 'She doesn't want to talk to us.'

'What about her family?' asked Rohan.

Arun scoffed. 'They are the ones who set up the match. We can't change their minds.'

Rohan stared at a passing boat. 'Maybe we shouldn't be thinking of convincing Subhrasree or her family.'

'So what then?' asked Sam.

'It's the guy we should be talking to,' said Rohan, thoughtfully. 'He likes to film himself, huh?'

Arun narrowed his eyes. 'I like what you are thinking.'

# 17

Shubhojit stood in the lobby of the Swissotel in Kolkata. He was in a beige, silken Punjabi kurta and a matching dhoti. Gold was woven into the fabric, making it sparkle and he grimaced as he adjusted the heavy collar flap. He was uncomfortable in the traditional Bengali groom clothes and could feel a dull headache from last night's drinking. He hated his relatives and to see them milling around him, with wide, fake smiles on their faces, annoyed him.

He thought again about the woman from last night. His friends had given him a terrific bachelor party and the high point was the Bollywood actress they had arranged for him to take to bed. She had acted in a dozen films before her career had tapered off. His friends had told him that her rate was ten lakh rupees for the night. It had opened a new world for him. He wondered how many other actresses there were who would be willing to sleep with him for money. He wished the stupid wedding would be over soon so he could research it.

The small group of close relatives and friends standing in the hotel lobby were waiting for a convoy of cars to arrive that would take them to a spectacular, colonial-era Government heritage property where the wedding was to be held. Shubhojit noticed a white BMW screech to a stop outside. He saw pink satin ribbons and colourful bouquets on the car bonnet. Shubhojit scowled, his temper rising. The girl's family was tasked with making all the required arrangements for the wedding. He had specifically asked for a Rolls-Royce Phantom to ferry him to and from the wedding. Couldn't they get such a simple thing right? Two guys, dressed in flashy maroon kurtas and elaborate turbans rushed into the lobby. They stood for a moment, looking around, searching and then they saw Shubhojit and hurried to him.

'We are Subhrasree's brothers! Welcome to the family,' cried Arun, giving him a bear hug.

Shubhojit disengaged, distastefully. 'OK. Where is the Phantom?'

'What phantom?' asked Sam.

Shubhojit gritted his teeth. 'The car I wanted.'

'Oh. It's... it's waiting for us on the way,' lied Arun. 'Listen, we have to go. Everybody will follow us later!'

People from the wedding planning team crowded around Shubhojit to find out what the mix-up was about. He glowered at them. 'These are the girl's brothers. Where the fuck is the car I wanted?'

'But we were informed it's coming in ten minutes, with the rest of the convoy.' One of the team members told Arun. 'We coordinated with Dolas, your event manager.'

Arun smiled. The chaos and confusion of a big wedding was perfect for their plan of action.

'The car will meet us on the way,' said Sam, forcibly. 'It's a culture in our family that brothers ride to the wedding with the to-be brother-in-law.'

Shubhojit frowned. 'I don't want to do this.'

'Who are you exactly?' asked a rough voice.

Sam and Arun saw a tall, stern man eyeing them suspiciously. The way everyone around them moved aside deferentially as he approached made it clear that he was Shubhojit's father.

'We are Subhrasree's brothers,' said Arun, his confidence sapping.

'She has no brothers!' growled the father. Part of the reason for his agreeing to the match was the knowledge that Subhrasree was an only child, who would inherit all her parents' wealth one day.

'Cousins, actually,' said Sam, smoothly. 'But after our parents died, the Dasguptas have been very kind to us.'

Arun nodded, sombrely. 'Please, sir, it would mean a lot to us if he comes in our car.'

'Only half way, sir,' beseeched Sam. 'Then he can change cars... get into the Shadow.'

'Phantom.' Arun corrected him.

The father mused. 'This is strange,' he muttered. But it could do no harm. He had already extracted a lot of things from the girl's family. A return favour was important to keep them firmly in his control. He nodded.

*

Shubhojit sat moodily in the BMW. Arun was driving the car, while Sam and he were in the back seat.

'We know about the videos,' said Arun, suddenly.

Shubhojit frowned. 'Huh?'

'You like to film your sex life.'

Shubhojit's mouth dropped open, but then he put on a cold face. 'You have wrong information.' His heart was hammering. How could they possibly know this?

'Come on,' said Arun. 'I have every single video. There are TV actors, small time models and Russian prostitutes in them... since you catalogue every video carefully, it's easy to find out who the girls are.'

'I don't know what you're talking about!' he hissed.

'But my favourite...' Arun continued, coolly. 'Is the one you filmed in... was it Greece? Well, that place was beautiful, with the distant bay, dotted with yachts, hills with white houses. Then there was your terrace, with a red mattress in the sun, beautiful vines on the walls... dude, it was all so exotic. But the best part was the sizzling, hot man you were fucking... was he an escort or...'

Shubhojit screeched in panic and anger and launched himself at Arun. The car swerved dangerously in the traffic. Sam immediately jumped on Shubhojit, pushing him back against the seat and crushing him with his weight.

Shubhojit struggled. 'Get off.' He yelled.

'Say please,' grunted Sam.

'No!'

Sam pushed against him harder.

'Please, stop, stop!' cried Shubhojit.

Sam waited for a few seconds and then moved off him. Shubhojit rubbed his body, wincing. His fight was gone. 'I'm not gay. That was just one time,' he said quietly.

'It doesn't matter to us if you are,' said Arun.

'How did you find it?' asked Shubhojit.

Arun eyed him in the rear view mirror. 'We hacked into your computer.'

Shubhojit took a deep breath. He thought for a moment. 'So how much do you want?' he asked.

'Oh, it's not about money,' said Arun.

Shubhojit gaped. 'Huh?'

Sam watched him, warily. 'We want you to call off the wedding.'

'What?'

'You heard me,' growled Sam.

'Why?'

'Because she deserves someone better.'

'No,' snarled Shubhojit.

'What did you say?' asked Arun, threateningly.

'Even if I wanted to, my parents won't allow me to break it off now.'

Sam glared at him. 'Do you want the videos to go public?'

'Listen, if the videos come out, know this, I'm going to hunt you down,' said Shubhojit, coldly. 'I have underworld contacts.'

Sam laughed as he video-called Rohan on his phone. Shubhojit observed him, suspiciously.

'Where are you dude?' cried Sam.

'Ready to rock and roll,' grinned Rohan.

Sam showed Shubhojit the phone. Rohan waved at the camera. He was standing near a table with a laptop placed on it, white chairs neatly arranged all around him. Behind Rohan were lanterns, flowers and decorations stretching out in the beautiful, green lawn. Guests were already arriving and there the atmosphere was festive.

Rohan moved his phone to face a large screen towering above him. 'Your wedding planners originally intended to show a collection of your childhood photos. But... what have we now?' A video was paused on the screen. It showed a terrace and Shubhojit gulped as he realized that it was the first few seconds of his Mykonos video, before he and his Greek lover stepped into the frame, naked.

'He clicks one button and your gay video plays,' said Sam.

Shubhojit was sweating. 'No, no,' he muttered. 'I'll... I'll do what you want.'

Sam beamed. 'Excellent.'

Shubhojit sighed. 'I'll call off the wedding,' he said, softly.

'Yes,' said Arun, cheerfully. 'But you'll do it in style.'

*

Subhrasree walked slowly towards a beautiful marquee, erected on a decorated platform in the middle of the huge lawn. Priests were sitting on the stage, waiting for the bride and groom to arrive so the marriage rituals could begin. She was in a red and gold sari, a large bindi adorning her forehead, with red and white patterns drawn around it. She wore a delicately crafted mukut on her head and lots of gold jewellery.

Her eyes were downcast. She knew everything would change after today. She yearned for the life she had left behind and barely noticed the beautiful decorations or the teeming guests. When she happened to look up, she stopped, stunned. In front of her were Rohan, Sam and Arun. She looked at them for a moment and then hugged them fiercely, one by one. Her family and relatives, who were watching her, tut-tutted seeing the bride show such affection to strangers.

'What are you doing here?' she asked.

'We came,' said Sam, his voice choking with emotion.

'I'm so sorry, Subhrasree,' said Rohan. 'I fucked everything up. Everything we built... when I think back...'

She interrupted him. 'Do you know what I remember about those days, Rohan? The way we made the app... the house we lived in... Yacht and Janata and smoking at Pali Naka... our pitches and presentations, even that Jalebi... it was all beautiful... at least, I have those memories now.' She was getting teary-eyed.

'You haven't fallen in love with the guy, right?' asked Arun, suddenly.

'I don't even know him,' winced Subhrasree.

'He's not a nice guy,' said Rohan.

Subhrasree shrugged. 'It's too late to do anything about that.'

'Maybe it's not.' Arun looked a little worried. 'See, don't be angry... we...' He hesitated, unsure how to proceed.

'What have you guys done?' asked Subhrasree suspiciously.

Rohan moved closer to her and whispered. 'Some things might happen today, OK? Just stay cool and everything will be fine.'

Subhrasree's eyes widened. 'What the hell?'

Rohan smiled. 'Someone once told me: In the end, it always works out.'

Subhrasree's mom suddenly rushed to her, looking angry. 'Hurry up! Talk to them later! Everyone's waiting for you.'

As Subhrasree made her way to the platform and stepped onto the stage, to her surprise, Shubhojit suddenly grabbed a mike. 'May I have your attention please?' he grunted.

Everyone was surprised. Marriage ceremonies did not usually include an impromptu talk by the groom. Shubhojit gazed at the big screen next to him, a thought suddenly crossing his mind. If he could get his bouncers to unhook the computer, dismantle the screen and grab hold of the three guys, maybe he wouldn't have to carry out the grisly task ahead. He was about to call the security guards when he noticed the dozen men standing around the screen. They were all dressed for the wedding in black Pathani suits. Though they were lean, they radiated a dangerous physicality. He realized that they were with the three guys, guarding the screen. He cursed under his breath. He couldn't risk the video being played while his bouncers tried to get past them.

'I... I have something to say,' Shubhojit said slowly into the mike.

'What are you doing?' hissed his father from below the stage. 'Speeches are during the reception, not now!'

Shubhojit ignored his father and took out a piece of paper from his pocket. 'I'm calling off the wedding,' he read.

His father gaped at him, astonished. The guests began whispering among themselves. Subhrasree immediately turned towards Rohan, Arun and Sam, who were all grinning at her.

'Shut down the mike!' ordered Shubhojit's father, furious.

Three burly bouncers hurried towards an enclosure next to the stage where all the audio equipment was arranged, but Sohail and three of his boys moved quickly to block their path.

'Move aside!' ordered one of the bouncers.

Sohail smirked at the man. 'No.'

The man reached out to grab him, but Sohail deftly stepped away and aimed a quick kick between the man's legs. The man grunted in pain, doubling over and before he could look up, a couple of swift punches to his neck sent him sprawling to the ground. The other two bouncers stopped in their tracks. Shubhojit's father's security men were all big, chosen for their size. They were used to intimidate and bully, but none of them had been in a real street fight before. There were more bouncers scattered around the lawn, but when they saw the paan-chewing gangster enjoying the attention, as he flexed his wrists, they all stood where they were. There were gasps of shock from the guests, but no one interfered.

'She doesn't deserve this.' Shubhojit continued reading. 'No one should be forced to marry for family, caste or... money. Freedom is more important than culture. She should marry the man she wants to, when she wants to. I know she is not ready for this now. She might want to focus on work in the immediate future... after all, she is the founder of HI STRANGER!. She has a long career of world-changing innovation ahead of her. So I'm not going to marry her.'

Arun hurried onto the stage and grabbed the mike from Shubhojit. 'That's it, people. Go home. No wedding today.'

'I'm calling the police!' hissed the guy's father, as he stepped onto the platform. 'No one can stop this wedding!'

'I can,' said Subhrasree, crossing her arms and staring at him.

'Shut up and sit obediently, girl,' roared the father. 'You'll do as I say.'

Subhrasree marched to him, her face inches away from him. 'Hey, don't you get it, you moron? I don't want to marry your son. You can't force me! Understand?' she said, coldly, unafraid.

Shubhojit's father was shocked. 'But... what... I...' he blabbered.

There was pandemonium all around. The guests were stunned, with many secretly pleased to witness such a spectacle. Subhrasree's furious parents hurried to the stage to try and control the situation. It was the most humiliating experience of their lives, but then something strange began to happen. Their friends and relatives started crowding around them, eagerly.

'Why did you keep it a secret?' demanded someone.

'What secret? You think we knew this nonsense was going to happen?' asked Subhrasree's mother, with great exasperation.

'I'm talking about your daughter founding HI STRANGER!' hissed an aunt.

'What is hi stranger?' asked Subhrasree's father, angrily, trying to make his way towards the stage. He believed that a good scolding would make the bride and the groom stop all their theatrics and get married. 'Stay back all of you,' he growled.

But more and more people began gathering around them, asking questions.

'Where did Subhrasree study?'

'Is she really the founder of HI STRANGER!?'

'How long has she been in the start-up world?'

'Can I invest in her company?'

'My son is interested in start-ups. Could she advise him?'

'What's going to be her next project?'

'What's the real story of why the founders were fired?'

'Stop!' screamed Subhrasree's father, silencing the people around him. 'What are you all talking about? What the hell is this hi stranger thing?'

People looked at each other, surprised.

'You really don't know?' asked a middle-aged woman. 'It's this really amazing application on your phone that lets you...' She broke off, suddenly looking very self-conscious.

Her husband looked at her, dumbfounded. 'How do you know about it?'

'I don't use it. I have just, um, heard about it,' she protested. 'Wait, do you use it?'

Her husband gulped. 'No,' he said quickly.

'I want to see your phone!' snarled the lady, suspicious.

'Our daughter created a computer program and you all know about it?' asked Subhrasree's mom, completely amazed.

'But she never told us,' said Subhrasree's father, frowning. 'Why?'

A family friend broke the silence. 'Would you have listened?' he asked. 'Would you have understood her?'

*

A large group of young people had rushed to the stage, mobbing Subhrasree, Rohan, Sam and Arun, pushing the groom and his father away.

'What the fuck?' cried Rohan. 'Are they going to fight us?'

Arun clenched his fists, readying himself. But to their astonishment, they noticed that the youngsters were laughing and cheering.

'You guys are my heroes!' roared one guy.

'Because we stopped the marriage?' asked Rohan, confused.

'No, man. You are the HI STRANGER! founders.'

Another guy nudged Subhrasree on the shoulder. 'Why didn't you tell me you created the app? No love for your cousin, huh?'

'We stopped working on it a while back,' said Subhrasree, a little wistfully.

'We were fired actually,' said Sam. 'We failed.'

'So?' asked the cousin. 'Listen, people care about you, the creators, not some big corporation that owns it now...'

'That failure wasn't so bad, I guess.' Rohan mused.

'Don't you get it?' asked a teenage girl. 'You have shown us a dream. That anything is possible.'

'We did, didn't' we?' said Arun, thoughtfully.

'Yeah!' cried the girl.

'Wow. We are awesome,' said Arun, grinning.

Rohan looked around him, beaming. He felt alive... like he hadn't in a long, long time. Something had changed in him. He felt the once smothered hunger stirring in his soul again... to create something special, to prove a point to the world. He would not bow down and give up because of his HI STRANGER! failure.

Rohan noticed the guests were now in a jovial, celebratory mood and were impatiently calling for food and drinks to be served. Someone had put on loud Bollywood music and a group of people, led by Sohail and his gangsters, started dancing. The drama the crowd had witnessed had been delicious and people had gleefully enjoyed it. For many, despite the fact that no marriage actually took place, it was the best wedding they had ever attended.

# 18

The first floor office was small, but cozy. It was in an old, Portuguese-style bungalow on Chapel Road in Bandra. The area was a Bohemian enclave, with the large windows of the office overlooking a quiet, narrow lane, with walls covered by thick vine and spectacular graffiti art.

Rohan, Subhrasree, Sam and Arun sat on plastic chairs around a long desk. The office was yet to be properly furnished. A piece of paper was pinned to the wall with 'Spook Labs' scribbled on it and next to it was a white writing board.

Rohan chewed on his pencil. 'The IT service sector is overcrowded. We need to think beyond just apps and programs,' he said.

'Maybe we focus on products,' said Subhrasree.

'If the definition of a good start-up is one that solves a problem...' said Sam, thoughtfully. 'Let's not forget that India's great problems lie in areas like agriculture, water, education...'

'That is true,' said Arun. 'And as we are brainstorming... we should even think of space. At some point, the human race will need to get off this planet.'

'OK, working in the space sector is impossible,' said Sam, rolling his eyes.

'Is it really?' asked Subhrasree, solemnly. 'Everything is possible. Listen, we are rich, people. Maybe we don't have it in cash yet, but after the HI STRANGER! IPO, we now own a significant amount of stock in a billion-dollar company. We have the capital to start something crazy, maybe create a prototype or system that requires heavy investment and is labour intensive.'

Rohan suddenly stood up. Can it be? He hurried to the white board and grabbed a marker.

It's too crazy but...

He started pacing around the room, feverishly mumbling to himself. Everyone looked at him curiously. After a few seconds, he stopped suddenly, his eyes wide.

'What?' asked Subhrasree.

Rohan took a deep breath. 'I have an idea,' he smiled.

# EPILOGUE

Rohan stepped out from the business centre of the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel in Colaba. The first meeting with their potential new VC had gone quite well. It had been a casual meet and greet session with Jeffrey Saltzmann, a famous billionaire start-up investor. The funding deal was in the early discussion stage, but over the next few weeks, Rohan was hopeful that Spook Labs would clinch the first round of funding for their ambitious new project.

The reason Saltzmann wanted to meet Rohan alone and not with his co-founders was because of his concerns about Rohan's past. After all, Rohan had been quite irresponsible during his HI STRANGER! CEO days. What was the guarantee it would not happen again? Rohan smiled, wondering if the VC had half-expected a drug-addled, drunk guy to waddle in for the meeting. He knew he had learnt from his past, but it was understandable that Saltzmann would be a little nervous. The opportunity to invest in their idea was too good to miss and Rohan knew that the VC would eventually commit.

This was Rohan's first visit to the colonial-era hotel and he walked around, admiring the architecture and soaking up the history of the place. He noticed the hotel bar and after a moment's hesitation, stepped inside. It had been two weeks since he had had his last drink. He tried to live a disciplined life now and was careful not to overindulge.

He walked to the bar counter and got himself a chilled beer. His phone buzzed and to his surprise, HI STRANGER! popped up.

Didn't I uninstall it? He couldn't remember. Despite the fact that months had passed since he was fired from HI STRANGER!, it hurt seeing the app on his phone screen. A wave of nostalgia washed over him.

Rohan realized that someone nearby had pinged him. He wasn't in a mood to talk to girls and was just about to close and uninstall the app when he saw the photo. He gulped. It was Suhana. He accepted the ping, almost unconsciously, wondering if it was a dream. She began to type.

Suhana: I'm sorry. I just got this app. Yours was the only profile around so...

Rohan: I can't believe it's you!

Rohan was facing the bar counter and was suddenly too terrified to turn around. It had taken him a long time to finally get over her and he knew seeing her again would bring back all those feelings. He kept his eyes fixed on the phone screen, his heart pounding.

Suhana: Do we know each other?

Rohan: I gave you a cig once. A long, long time back. And we met a couple of times...

Suhana: Yes. Yes, I remember. I liked your Hulk costume.

Rohan: ...and then things became a little awkward.

Suhana: I was rude, I think.

Rohan: It wasn't your fault. I was a little messed up those days.

Suhana: It's strange meeting again like this. My friend installed it after my break up... Well, this app is so cool!

Rohan: Thank you.

Suhana: Huh?

Rohan: I created it.

Suhana: Created what?

Rohan: HI STRANGER!

Suhana: Very funny. Some guys called Arun and Rohan were the founders, I think.

Rohan smiled. He realized he had somehow never told her his name. And HI STRANGER! did not put names to profiles for security reasons during the matching process and first chat.

Rohan: My name is Rohan.

Suhana: Sure.

Rohan: I'm serious.

Suhana: Wait a minute. Let me Google the founders.

Suhana: OMG! It's really you. Why didn't you tell me when we met?

Rohan: I was just working on it then. It hadn't been launched.

Suhana: Wow. So how did you get the idea for this?

Rohan thought of the night on the terrace. He had given up after the Troll Hunter setback. And before he left Mumbai, he had desperately wanted to talk to Suhana one last time. Could he tell her all this? And everything else that followed?

Rohan: It's a long story.

Suhana: I have time.

Rohan finally turned around. She was sitting at a corner table. He gazed at her for a few seconds. She was wearing a white dress and playing unconsciously with her hair, her lips pursed as she concentrated on her phone. The yellow wall lights made her glow. She looked up and smiled at him.

He walked to her table.

THE END

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