by Nikita Singh
‘Umm, ladies? Someone needs to tell Ma and Papa,’ Sarthak said and rotated his chair back to his computer screen, headphones on.
They broke their hug and looked at each other, eyes wide.
Maahi had expected Laila to be every parent’s nightmare—with her constant cursing and no-fucks-given attitude—the first time she had introduced her to her family. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her parents loved Laila, who seemed like a capable, sorted young woman to them. They liked her enough to overlook her black, white and everything- in-between wardrobe and she was decent enough to watch her language around them.
So when they decided to tell her parents about their bakery, they agreed that it would be best if Laila was the one who led the conversation. But before they did that, they laid out the building blocks of their bakery. They assigned themselves roles—Laila was in charge of finding funding and space, and Maahi was taking care of creating the business plan and calculating start-up cost to begin with. They would take care of pricing, menu, purchasing appliances and equipment, design and marketing once they got to that stage.
They were in the pre-planning phase of their bakery, but even so, they created a PowerPoint presentation and brought a couple dozen assorted cupcakes and cookies with them as pacifier and proof of their talent. As always, Rohit’s wide network of connections didn’t let Maahi down. His uncle was in the culinary business in the outskirts of Delhi and had agreed to guide them. Anil uncle was acting as their mentor, helping out with the general directions and answering all their questions. They felt much safer with someone experienced on their team.
Laila also thought that asking her mother to come to their meeting would be a good idea. Her mom had accepted the fact that her daughter was a free spirit, a self-made, independent child who would anyway do whatever the hell she wanted to. She hadn’t been overjoyed at the idea of Laila quitting her day job to work on this start-up, but she got on board when they assured her that Laila would keep at least one of her jobs until they got funding.
So on D-Day, they came armed with a presentation of their vision and mission, cookies and cupcakes and Laila’s mom.
It was a Saturday night, and the Kothari family had invited Laila and her mother over for dinner, a plan orchestrated by Maahi. After dinner, they went back to the living room, where Maahi was bringing them dessert. Everyone took position—Laila’s mom opposite Maahi’s parents, Laila next to her. Sarthak sat back with a hidden grin, waiting for the drama. Maahi could almost see the popcorn bucket in his lap.
‘Who is going to eat all of these? There are only so many of us!’ Maahi’s mother said when Maahi brought two trays, one filled with cupcakes and the other with cookies.
‘I’m on it,’ Sarthak said. Maahi glared at him. He picked up a cookie and retreated.
‘Our daughters are so talented. I’m so proud,’ Laila’s mom opened.
‘Yes, we simply adore their baking. Maahi brings these back from the coffee shop all the time,’ Maahi’s mom was quick to agree.
Maahi panicked and blurted out, ‘Which reminds me—Ma, Papa, I have something to tell you. And I request you to please hear us out before you say anything. I know that you have certain expectations from me, and I want to keep you happy, but I don’t know if I can do this any—’
‘Maahi,’ Laila said, firmly pulling her down and making her sit. She muttered, ‘Stick to the script.’
‘Right,’ Maahi murmured. She looked down at her feet and sat like that the rest of the time as Laila explained the situation to her parents. She stole glances at her mom every few minutes. Her dad was quiet too, which scared Maahi.
Laila’s mom shared her concerns, eventually explaining how she got over them and decided to give the kids a chance. Laila went through their plans for the business and projected timelines. She finished everything they had planned on saying, and asked Maahi’s parents if they had any questions, neither of whom had spoken the entire time.
Maahi dared to look up, mostly out of nervousness. She tried to guess their response and was met with blank expressions.
‘Are you saying you will drop out of college?’ Papa asked.
‘Again?’ Ma added.
‘Not if you don’t want me to,’ Maahi said, dejected. She had really hoped they would understand. But if staying in college meant they would be okay with her starting a business, she was willing to make that compromise.
‘But Cookies + Cupcakes is not a side thing. It’s their main thing,’ Sarthak said. Maahi looked at him in surprise. ‘I’m sure it’d need way more attention than a part-time job.’
‘Sarthak’s right,’ Laila joined in. ‘We’re serious about this. This is going to be our career, and we’re going to give it our everything. At least we plan to.’
It was in vain. They tried to convince them with everything they had, but her parents remained hell-bent on Maahi staying in college and finishing her education. Maahi made a point that even if she finished college and got a degree, it would just be a worthless piece of paper, as she didn’t plan to do anything with it. The time she would spend pursuing that piece of paper would take precious time away from their start-up. Her parents said they would rather have her get that piece of paper than not.
The conversation went off-track when her parents kept arguing about her education instead of discussing the bakery. Laila and Sarthak kept trying for a long time, but Maahi became quiet. She accepted defeat. She saw the look in her father’s eyes. He wasn’t going to change his mind. Her mother didn’t even try to listen to anything anyone was saying. She repeatedly voiced her concern over having a twelfth-pass daughter with no future. When she asked Laila’s mom how she could get on board with their daughters’ ridiculous whims, Maahi decided it was time for Laila and her mother to leave. She didn’t want Ma to say anything to Laila’s mom that would offend or hurt her.
When Laila squeezed her at the door, tears finally escaped Maahi’s eyes. She stayed in Laila’s arms for a minute to compose herself, wiped her tears and went back inside.
When she returned to the living room, they weren’t there. Their bedroom door was closed. Maahi turned off the living room lights and went to her room, a lump in her throat.
Hours later, she heard a knock on her door. It was soft, but unmistakable. Her heartbeat fastened. Was it her mom, there to lay down more rules for her to follow? Or her dad, to tell her how she had been a disappointment to them? She contemplated ignoring it, pretending to be asleep, but at the same time, if they were there to tell her that she wasn’t allowed this pointless pursuit, she’d rather not wait to find out. She got up and opened the door.
‘Couldn’t sleep?’ Sarthak asked.
‘What do you think?’
‘Get dressed.’
Maahi didn’t question him. In the cold November night, they rode to Gurgaon on his bike. Laila and Siddhant were waiting for them at the coffee shop. Maahi looked at Siddhant, who smiled at her, a smile of condolence. Laila looked dejected. No one said anything. Maahi didn’t let anyone hug her; she was afraid she would break down. She walked right inside to do the only thing she could to help her get over some of her frustration. Laila took a step back and let her do the baking. Both Sarthak and Siddhant sat on either side of the counter, close to Maahi, yet keeping a safe distance.
They slowly began talking, mostly Laila talking to Siddhant, and then to Sarthak. Eventually, Sarthak and Siddhant started talking to each other. The circumstances under which they were meeting for the first time weren’t ideal, but they did their best to cheer Maahi up, without actually talking to her or getting in her way.
Maahi was making banana walnut cupcakes with a simple cream cheese frosting. It was only once she started beating the eggs that she began to relax. She didn’t talk much that night, but she was actively involved in the conversation, listening to everything, observing how her three favourite people interacted with each other.
She even smiled once, when she removed the baking sheets from the oven. She
brought the golden-brown cupcakes to the cooling rack, taking in the heavenly aroma of the life she craved.
Part Four
13
Maahi went over their pitch presentation one more time, while Laila sat next to her and peeked in. She was overwhelmed by the time she reached the end of it. All this preparation, instead of adding confidence, made her nervous. The more content they put into their presentation, the more room they created for cross questioning. Being rejected those last few times did nothing to help her anxiety.
‘What? Why do you have that look?’ Laila asked.
‘I don’t know…’
‘No. Don’t even start second guessing at this point. We’ve been on this for six fucking months and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. We need funding, now.’
‘I’ve been on this with you for these six months too. Only I know how I’ve managed to manage this alongside my fourth semester. I understand your frustration and trust me, I share it. But do you really think we should add these slides about our possible competitors? We don’t even have a space yet. How do we know these bakeries are going to be our competitors?’ Maahi asked.
‘Then what should we do? How is this pitch complete without talking about our competition? How do we show them what’s unique about what we are offering if we don’t compare it with others?’ Laila asked. She ran her fingers through her short hair, starting at the base of her neck, going up. She pulled at the ends before releasing them.
‘You’re going to go bald if you keep doing that.’
‘I don’t care. As long as we have funding.’
‘We will! If we stop pitching the entire business plan! Listen, I know we need to have a detailed business plan, but we need that if we are asked. Why can’t we just have our vision, what we’re offering, target market, revenue model, sales and marketing strategies, and financials in the pitch?’ Maahi ticked off points on her fingers. She pointed to the OneNote file open on her laptop and said, ‘We can always have other details—the competition, traction and validation, the use of funds and all of that in the actual business plan—when we know we have their interest and they’re listening when we talk to them? If we mention all of this in the elevator pitch, they’re going to get frustrated. They just want us to get to the point. What did Anil uncle say? Short and succinct. Remember?’
‘Short and succinct,’ Laila repeated. She looked at the computer screen. ‘Short and succinct.’
‘One page. We only have ten minutes.’ Maahi deleted the unnecessary details from the pitch presentation and started moving the content around the page as Laila sat watching. ‘And I read an article online that said a pitch should be able to stand alone without us presenting it. So we’re going to have to remove these bullet points and finish these sentences.’
‘I don’t know how you’re doing this,’ Laila muttered.
‘Sometimes I don’t know either. But when you panic and go a bit loony, someone has to hold the fort. And in a two-people team, that responsibility inevitably falls on me.’
‘Right. You have to step up—no other option.’
‘Yep.’ Maahi adjusted the font size and moved back to observe how it looked on the page. ‘Looks good?’
‘Not bad,’ Laila said.
‘Come on. I hate when you sound so low. Cheer up!’
‘How? We’ve literally tried everything. Angel investors, venture capitalists, banks, equity investors—what else can we do?’
‘Keep at it,’ Maahi said. She put her laptop away and stretched her back. ‘That’s the only thing we can do. And not lose hope. The only two things we can do at this point.’
‘I can’t live on my Cozy Coffee and home-baking income forever, Maahi. I can’t.’
‘I can’t either. Good thing we don’t have to. It’s going to happen.’
‘Soon?’ Laila asked. ‘Because I really don’t know how much longer I can take this. And it’s kind of creeping me out how calm you are about this.’
‘I’m really not calm. Not at all. I don’t remember the last time I slept for more than a couple of hours. Siddhant was just saying last week that he’s getting seriously concerned about my health. This is the only thing I think about. But I have faith. I don’t know … I know it’s going to happen. We have everything. We worked so hard on the business plan—the research, the plan itself—and it’s at a point where there are no leaks, we just need someone whose vision aligns with ours, and we have everything else.’
Laila nodded, still looking sombre.
‘Trust me on this, Laila. You have to. You can’t lose hope. Hell, you’re the one who came up with most of this in the first place! And before you say it—I know it hasn’t worked yet. But it only has to work once. We’ve only learned and become better with every time we’ve been rejected. It’s not all for nothing. Our business plan has improved several times from the first one we came up with, and it’s all because of the feedback we’ve got along with the rejections.’
Laila sat with her legs folded under her in the middle of Maahi’s bed, looking completely lost and out of place—in her grey tank top and black shorts, against the red-and-green floral bed sheet. Her curly hair was no longer tied in a bun on top of her head. She had got it cut down to just above her shoulders, tendrils of curls framing her face in layers. Maahi missed her bun phase, but thought the pixie suited her well.
It was in quite a contrast with Maahi’s hair, which had grown significantly, reaching down to her waist. Laila’s hair was much darker, almost a midnight black, compared to Maahi’s coffee brown. Laila sometimes straightened her hair to make her look tougher, but it didn’t work, neither did her colourless outfits.
Laila finally spoke. ‘Ugh, I hate when you’re right. Also, who the fuck asked you to grow up and become this career woman or whatever the fuck you’re trying to pretend to be?’
Maahi laughed. ‘Now you’re just hating on me!’
‘You deserve it.’
‘Why!’
‘Because you’re the one who showed me this dream. You come in—the wide-eyed child all enthusiastic about baking and learning. I always planned to bake, sometimes even thought about setting up my own bakery, but not right now.’ Laila narrowed her eyes. ‘You with your experiments and shit. I had never had anyone to do all that with before and oh, Maahi, why? You showed me this dream. I even quit my day job—and here we are, with nothing to show for it. It’s still a dream, it’s still far, far away.’
‘You sound like a regretful wife, realizing you never should’ve married me. Never should’ve said yes when I proposed!’ Maahi chuckled.
‘Exactly! I never should’ve said yes!’
‘Well, I, on the other hand, am glad you did.’ Maahi pulled Laila to her in a bear hug. ‘And I know it’s going to happen for us. I know it. You think it’s easy for me? Taking a stand, doing what I want, going against my parents’ wishes, almost dropping out of college for the second time? You’ve seen all of it happen. You know how hard it’s been. And that’s exactly why we can’t give up now. I can’t afford to give up now.’
‘Yeah,’ Laila pulled away from Maahi and said. ‘If you drop out now and our bakery plan fails, Aunty will probably send you back to college to study electrical engineering or shit like that. At least I have a bachelor’s degree and my mom is on board with Cookies + Cupcakes. You’re the twelfth pass loser with no fallback options.’
Maahi shook her head grimly. ‘Thanks for pointing that out. It wasn’t enough to just live it. Hearing it is always a pleasure.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Laila replied cheekily.
Maahi was working on the design of their logo when Sarthak knocked on her door, later that evening. ‘Come in,’ she said, knowing full well that he would’ve even if she hadn’t asked him to.
‘Busy?’ he asked, sitting down on her bean bag.
Maahi swung her chair around to face him, laptop in hand. She turned the screen to Sarthak. ‘How does this look?’
‘Meh.’ Sartha
k shrugged.
‘Thanks. I’ve only been working on it for like, five hours.’
‘It’s going to represent your brand for as long as the brand exists, so yeah, let’s not look at the big picture here.’
‘You’re so annoying,’ Maahi sulked.
‘Just because I’m right, I’m annoying. Why did you ask me if you didn’t want to know?’
‘God, stop lecturing me. Why are you here anyway?’
‘You only have to tolerate me for one more month and you can’t even handle that?’ Sarthak said, his face sullen.
‘Oh, the drama!’ Maahi said, but she felt sad thinking about her brother moving away next month. Never having had the reputation of being serious about anything, Sarthak surprised everyone with his JEE results. Maahi always believed that if he got his shit together and concentrated on something he really wanted, there would be no stopping him. Plus, he had a natural talent for numbers. He got into IIT Mumbai for aerospace engineering, completely changing his position in their parents’ and Sushanti aunty’s eyes. In the process, Maahi looked like more of a failure. It still bothered her, but not as much. She had learned to develop thick skin. And she couldn’t be prouder of her brother’s success.
‘It’s true. You don’t have time for me anymore.’
‘I have time for nothing right now. Not until we get funding! And even less after that!’
‘So you’re just going to ignore me for the next few years? Is that what you’re saying?’ Sarthak asked. His face looked so deadpan, Maahi couldn’t tell if he was kidding or serious.
‘Of course not,’ she said seriously. She put her laptop back on the desk and closed the lid. ‘Is something up?’