by Kunal Sharma
As Good as a Replay
A week later, Nakul saw Viraj come in to office early and, sensing opportunity, knocked on his door and wished him.
“Good to have you back, sir” said Nakul.
“Aao, aur batao kya chal raha hai” said Viraj.
“How was your trip to Singapore?” queried Nakul.
“All too good. I met my good friend Abhiyudya,” said Viraj, mentioning the rising star of business in Asia, “and he told me something I already knew. He said ‘Viraj, business is moving away from India.’ I said, ‘Dude, do you think I was in some sort of jail? Or was I on a lecherous trip to Thailand with your secretary?’ See, you've gotto have the balls....gote hone chahiye...to be the guy that I am.”
“Hahaha” chuckled Nakul.
Everytime any of his employees met him, Viraj doled out one unbelievable story after another. It seemed that in his world, he contributed a good whole number to the nation’s GDP. He was connected to all the right people and businesses everywhere were seemingly talking to him. Yet, Nakul couldn’t help but refuse to buy Viraj's banter, never mind his unrelenting way of saying all this.
“Batao, I have a meeting with this Japani person-he has been trying to get into India for the past 5 years, he says to me ‘Viraj tell me, with all my billions, why is India still elusive?’ and I said ‘..because you didn't see the lighthouse called Viraj, you idiot’…” said the pompous Papa.
“Viraj, sorry to interrupt you…your insights are great but wanted to ask you if we can take the NewAge mandate further, I think there are some interesting buyers out there for this company. We do stand to make a good amount in transaction fee as well…,” said Nakul, hoping to build the conversation on the NewAge deal and then, if all goes well, planning to mention his dilemma of working under Rohtaj.
Viraj didn’t nudge from his seat. He looked like a fat school boy in a laboratory viva that was not going well. He wanted to change the pace of the conversation a bit.
“Nakul see, there are couple other opportunities that I don’t want us to forego…I want us to get on their case. But your point is well taken and I have better sense of timing than you. You were still in liquid form when I was wearing a uniform, right? Hahaha..” Papa ranted on, “I am already thinking of the next step we’ll take to bring this…the mandate…to closure...details later, ok?”
Nakul got the cue and got up to leave, thinking if he had learnt anything in the past 2 months that he had been working with here...except to act as a banker, keep up with the torments and whims of the bosses.
Anyways, he had done his bit. Nakul wondered though, why this time Viraj’s assurance did not feel as good as when he offered him the role. Nakul decided to anyways slug it for a few weeks more, then if things still did not change; he decided, staunchly this time, that he will be out of this place irrespective of whether or not he has a job at hand. Nakul felt like the haze in his life was finally giving way to clearer sights and that he was probably in control of his life, after all.
Prashar accompanied him down the hallway soon after the big bosses had left for the day.
“Man, gotto give it to you, you practically asked the man to sacrifice his hen that lays golden eggs,” said Prashar, once they were in the coffee room.
“Golden Eggs?” asked Nakul.
“How else does he pile in more clients? He shows them the contract he signed with NewAge,” said Prashar.
“Dude, this contract is of what use if we don’t deliver? NewAge is just sitting there and we aren’t doing anything to bring them closer to the investors,” said Nakul.
“Nakul, PanAsia thrives on small deals, they can’t risk closing a deal as big as NewAge. If NewAge happens, they will come directly under the eagle eyes of the law. We don’t want that. We are a front company, remember? The underworld wants Viraj to give them just enough without any trouble. Viraj is using big fish like the contract with NewAge, just to get smaller fish. Smaller fish will swim safely past the legal submarine,” said Prashar.
“He will never close NewAge, just like his other deals…we will never have a tick on our CVs…bankers without a closed transaction, do you know how much of a taboo that is in the IB world? How much business have we won lately?”
“Maybe 2-3 really small deals in the past quarter…”
“…Keeping market factors constant, word has probably gotten around that we are nothing but worthless piece of works who do nothing but sign lame contracts and then play ‘office’ from 9 in the morning to 10 at night. No wonder those ISB graduates refused working here. I cannot remember anyone in the past turning down an investment-banking offer. Repute goes around and this business is so dependent on repute. Nariman Point laps up bad news faster than a forest on fire. Soon, our CV’s with PanAsia written right at the very top would be worthless. Add to that the kudos this lends to our confidence…the fact that we work under the likes of Mona and Rohtaj, their sadisms and whims…,” said Nakul.
“I for sure…I am done working under that Rohtaj…the Satku,” said Prashar, mentioning the epithet that Rohtaj had earned because of his random tantrums.
“Satku! Ha! Let’s list this down as the achievement for today, we’ve finally christened our tormentor!” said Nakul.
“Anyways…all this…that’s a lot of food for thought, can I save it for later? I can’t wait to hit the sack,” said Prashar hastily as he realized that Nakul was zoning out too. The friends called it a day and parted ways.
Pigeonholed
Nakul always comes back to a dark apartment. He reaches his flat after 10 and there’s usually no one to put the lights on for him. He orders in and sits through the next hour or two flipping channels on TV. When things get lonely, he chats up a few friends over the phone. He just can't bring himself to social networking sites yet. Maybe those are for people who know their place in society and revel in it. Occasionally, he gets a phone call from his parents who get down to a no holds barred rap expressing their anguish over the apathy he had lent to the institution of marriage. Invariably, his parents hang up making him feel like your everyday under-achiever.
Tonight was no different. Nakul had just got off the phone with his parents and he felt like a loser.
“I don’t think I need a phone call from home to remind me of that,” thought Nakul.
He did a good job of letting the TV distract him until the time he was ready for bed. Most times, he is lucky to doze off before he lets his thoughts stray backwards in time. At other times, just like today, he is not so lucky and stays up a couple of hours in bed thinking, wishing and regretting.
Tonight he gazed at the ceiling fan for at least an hour. The crocs on TV do that, be still for hours, that is. He was looking up the fan that was swish swashing slowly, blades cutting the crisp a/c air. He knew he didn’t want the fan but it was on and it was whispering:
You followed a success blueprint
With a perfect CV and wondrous job stint
Lived solely for more money to mint
Of happiness, though, there is not a hint
Nakul finds himself in a dark alley somewhere in Cuff Parade, Mumbai. He somehow knows he is dreaming and thinks, “I wouldn’t mind giving in to ignorance knowing that sunshine is just a curtain pull away.” Suddenly, a strong feeling of being permanently in a dark cell, a nether land for people who have practiced their inclination for misadventures. It is in fact an old, dilapidated mall. The people he can sight don’t mind staring back at him.
“They need to feel appreciated for living within the confines of the unspoken norms,” thinks Nakul.
He is suddenly in a temple. The mast atop the tallest part of the holy house is fluttering a flag in the gentle breeze, taking away all the emotional toxins exuded by the worshippers. Nakul looks up at the deity and the weightiness of all his problems makes him teary eyed and he can’t see. A sense of dejectedness starts creeping in, which is good, considering that he hadn’t had any feelings in a long time. He gets tapped in the shoulder by someone who i
s next in line and he arches his neck, a tad too quickly-it hurt.
Nakul wakes up in the middle of the night. His neck hurts and he is very thirsty.