MBA for the Mafia

by Kunal Sharma

Bottles and Models

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

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

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

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

  “For money,” the Chef had said casually.

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

  “...And good morning to you,” thought Nakul.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I am Nakul,” said Nakul.

  “That’s a … very different name,” said Raju, the Pencil Nose.

  Nakul shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “PanAsia.”