by Savi Sharma
The crowds were beginning to thicken, and I realised I was nearing the famous Mapusa Market. I smiled, already looking forward to the crush of bodies and loud voices.
It was a fun trip, and I enjoyed squeezing my way around people to barter with vendors for trinkets. I had learned during our stay how much Pari enjoyed sewing her own clothes, so I was especially happy to find a cloth vendor and hastily started to barter for a beautiful print for her.
I was delighted at the price we settled on eventually, although I feigned disgust, to the seller’s obvious enjoyment. Package in hand, I turned to hurry away before he could tempt me with more of his wares.
‘Vivaan?’ I heard a voice call across the heads of several people. I spun around, looking for a familiar face but saw no one. ‘Vivaan,’ the man called again, and I stopped to wait for the person to emerge from the crowds.
As soon as I got a good look at his face, I was astounded. ‘Parth!’ I said, greeting the man I had shared an Uber with in Bangalore. ‘What are you doing here, my friend? How are you?’
He laughed; a deep, hearty sound. ‘I’m here to celebrate my birthday with some friends,’ he responded. ‘And to answer your other question, I am terrific—much, much better than when you and I last saw each other!’
I was surprised. The last time we spoke, he was a pleasant companion, but it was obvious that he was a thoroughly unhappy man who felt trapped in a boring, dead-end job. I knew the feeling well from when I worked at the bank. But now, a different man stood in front of me, eyes shining brightly. His smile lit up his face and his voice had an excited lift.
‘Do you need to be anywhere soon?’ he continued. ‘I would love to catch up with you over a coffee. So much has happened over the last few months!’
‘I would love to,’ I responded, curious at the complete change in his attitude. In fact, I don’t need to be anywhere for a few hours.
We looked around for a place to sit but decided to walk around a block where the crowds were thinner, and we could speak without having to raise our voices. Sitting in a café that reminded me nostalgically of Kafe Kabir, I spoke first. ‘Now, tell me what has changed in your world. You look like a completely different man! What is your secret to happiness?’
Parth laughed again. ‘It’s no secret, but yes, everything has changed.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially and looked me in the eye. ‘I took your advice,’ he said in an exaggerated whisper.
‘You did?’ I responded, delighted. ‘You left your company?’
‘Yes!’ he said so enthusiastically that other people turned around to stare at his outburst. Amused, I watched him give an apologetic smile with a shrug that showed the perfect balance of regret without embarrassment.
I took a sip of my latte. The rich, creamy beverage was delicious, but it lacked the depth that I got from Kafe Kabir. Wow, I really was becoming a coffee snob. ‘Thank you for this,’ I said and lifted the mug in a silent toast. ‘To you and your next steps. . .’ I offered. ‘So, what are you doing now?’
Parth took a sip of his own coffee thoughtfully. ‘Well, it’s this. Have you ever sat down with a senior and listened to the stories that they have to share about the ‘good old days’? Maybe it’s a story about how your grandparents met; maybe it’s their childhood memories. You know, back before television was even a household item.’
I nodded. ‘Absolutely. My Auntie used to tell the most amazing stories.’
‘Can you recall them now?’ he asked curiously.
I frowned. ‘Bits and pieces, but nothing specific unfortunately. And Auntie passed away about a year ago.’ Just thinking of the night I received the phone call brought a wave of sadness over me.
Parth winced a little. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ he said sombrely.
I shrugged and gestured for him to continue. I had a feeling I was going to love what my friend had to say.
He sat back and collected his thoughts once more. ‘The same thing happened to our family, but before my grandfather passed away, one of my younger cousins ‘interviewed’ him for a school project and happened to record the conversation. Now, back to your aunt’s stories. Imagine how precious that would be to you now, to have her own words at your fingertips so you could remember them over and over again.’
‘Like a memoir?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘Yes and no. Yes, in that they are her stories in her words. But no in the sense that it is not necessarily a formalised piece of writing that you can order from your bookstore.’
‘Keep going,’ I said. ‘I think I’m liking this idea a lot.’
‘My company is called ‘Yaadein’.’ He stopped to see if I understood the significance of the name.
‘‘Memories’,’ I said, deep in thought. ‘A beautiful name. But what do you do?’
‘My staff, when it is up and running, will manage a group of freelance interviewers across India. At the request of a senior, or the family, we can go and conduct a series of interviews with the person. The interviews will be recorded, of course.’
‘It sounds expensive,’ I mused.
He shook his head. ‘That’s the beauty of this. The way I have everything set up, it’s a tiered system. For a small price, the recordings will be transcribed and given to the family. For a different price, they can have the recordings. For a larger investment, we will have staff writers at Yaadein develop a formal mini-memoir, with a book cover, and get it professionally printed. With the publishing platforms available these days, they can order one book, or one hundred!’
‘What about combining a number of interviews from members of the same family?’ I suggested.
Parth’s eyes lit up. ‘That could be the platinum programme,’ he said. ‘What a great idea.’
‘It’s a fantastic idea,’ I responded. ‘It will capture all those stories, family history that might otherwise be lost when a family member passes away.’
‘In this world of smartphones and smart devices, we are looking at the future,’ he said, ‘at the price of forgetting the past. When my grandfather died, my cousin remembered he had those recordings and he brought them to the funeral celebration. It was only ten minutes of recordings, but to hear his voice, to feel his laughter rumble through the room . . . it was a priceless gift we will have always.’
‘I do love it,’ I said, with sincere respect for my clever friend. ‘So, have you launched it?’
‘We’re close to launching right now,’ he said. ‘We’ll be starting small, but it has the potential to grow tremendously as the idea takes hold.’
I took another sip. ‘I am sure you will be very successful, Parth. I am very happy with what you have accomplished in the months since we met!’
‘I truly wouldn’t have had the courage to do anything like this, had I not met you, Vivaan. For that, I am so grateful that destiny put us in that car the same day.’ He clapped his hands happily. ‘Now you! Tell me what has been going on with you since we met?’
I was hesitant to mention anything about the events that had unfolded in my life, not wanting my frustration and shame to taint Parth’s excitement. After all, I was the one who convinced him to take a chance . . . what a fool I would seem now that he followed my advice and was soaring, while I had fallen flat on my face.
My fingers worried the edge of the white napkin my coffee cup was sitting on. ‘It’s nothing as exciting, I’m afraid.’
‘But you were going to speak to some investors about your travel company,’ he said. ‘What happened? Did you change your mind about starting your company?’
I shook my head sadly. ‘No, I did manage to start it, even though the investors decided not to take on my startup,’ I told him the whole story about how I was building the company and was on our first trip when the police found drugs in my bag.
‘Oh no,’ he groaned. ‘Was it the person who was sitting beside you?’
‘It had to have been,’ I said. ‘Because I can assure you, they were not mine!’
‘I can tell,’ P
arth said sincerely. ‘You would never put your company in jeopardy like that, I know.’
I starred out the window for a few long moments, feeling the frustration and shame once more. ‘Never,’ I said vehemently. ‘But it doesn’t matter. The accusation was made, and enough doubt was cast over me. The company folded almost right after it started.’
‘I can’t believe it.’
‘Honestly, I still can’t either. All my hopes and dreams. Gone.’
‘It is very odd hearing these words from the man who had given me so much hope. But I think you’re going to be able to regain it. In fact, it’s easy when you think of it this way. Your success or failure is yours to own. You are the weaver of your destiny, whether it happens because you made a mistake, or if someone wronged you. Of if they supported you. Success and failure are merely signposts, the roads are yours.’
‘I don’t know about that. I used to see the future so clearly but I can’t now. Once, I felt like I was sitting under the most brilliant star, one that guided me and brought good fortune to my life. But you know what happens with stars? They can be there one moment and come crashing to earth the next.’
‘No, my friend. I do not believe that’ Parth said. ‘It’s all about how you live your life, not what seems to be lighting your way. The story of life can be summarised in a few short words. It is never-ending. No matter what you are going through, no matter how difficult the journey is, no matter how fate tests us, life never stops; it endures.’
I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling that old frustration. ‘I just don’t understand though. How did this happen?’
‘A simple question may end up taking years to form. And decades to solve. And sometimes, there is no cause for this effect. Not really,’ he said sadly. ‘But don’t wait for time to take away the pain. Take control and do it yourself.’
‘How?’
‘I’m not sure but I do know this. You need to believe one truth about yourself, Vivaan: you are more qualified than you realise and more gifted than you can believe at this moment. Take your talents and fly. Hope is the catalyst that gets things done.’
His enthusiasm was contagious and I grinned a little bit. ‘But there were so many attacks, not just on me, but Meera too.’ I told him how this whole incident affected Meera’s career and life.
‘How can you judge a person’s life by a few actions or the people that they influenced? Maybe judgment can’t and shouldn’t be made on anybody’s life but your own. Vivaan, life is like a puddle and sometimes you need to just leave that water alone. The grime eventually settles, leaving clear water. If you keep going back to it, you will only stir the mud up again.’
‘Interesting analogy,’ I said drily. ‘But sometimes I just can’t wait. The more time I try to figure out things, the tighter my situation becomes.’
‘Time is a busy word, isn’t it? Time can fall behind, time can race ahead; it can be on your hands or tell you something. The tragedy, though, is also when time runs out. It most certainly has not run out for you.’
‘You do have a point.’
‘Of course I do,’ he chuckled. ‘So, what will you do now?’
‘I’m not sure,’ I confessed. ‘I’ll need to—’
‘Wait!’ he cried. ‘I have an idea!’
Well, this was unexpected. I felt an absurd glow of hope in my stomach while I waited for Parth’s next words. ‘Tell me,’ I urged.
‘I need a CFO,’ he said. ‘I feel that Yaadein is going to be a huge success. So many people are asking when we’ll be ready. But while I am hiring the freelancers I need, I can barely keep track of everything now. I need someone who I can trust to be my right-hand man, someone to handle all the financial aspects while I throw myself into marketing the company.’
I thought about his idea. It was an interesting one, but did I truly want to go back into the bland world of finance? After all, it was the black-and-white bleakness of those numbers and incessant calculations that drove me half-crazy in the first place.
‘Hm, I don’t know. . .’ I started and took the last gulp of my now-cold latte to give myself a chance to think. Yuck.
‘The more I think about it, the more I love the idea,’ Parth enthused, leaning across the table. ‘I can tell what you’re thinking: crunching numbers. That’s what you wanted to get away from, right?’
I nodded.
‘I can offer you a very good package and stock options,’ he said. ‘You’ll be coming in at the ground level, helping me to get things up and running. You’ll be my number one guy.’
‘Parth, this is a truly generous offer,’ I started.
Our coffee empty, we stood up and left the café together, stepping back into the bright sun. ‘First of all,’ he continued, ‘it is not too generous if that is what you are thinking. I really need a man I can trust, because I am not a numbers person. Second, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your words of inspiration that day. If it wasn’t for you, honestly Vivaan, I would still be in my miserable job doing my miserable work.
‘It was you, and you alone, who gave me the confidence to leave and start my own company. For that, I cannot thank you enough.’ He stopped and looked at the time on his phone. ‘I’m sorry but I need to run now. . . my friends have likely slept off last night’s festivities and will be looking for the birthday boy.’
I laughed. ‘It was great to see you again,’ I said. We pulled out our phones and exchanged numbers this time.
‘Vivaan,’ he said. ‘Take your time in thinking this over. I know it’s a big step, but I think you and I will work well together. Of course, you’ll have to come to Bangalore, but’—he held out his arms jokingly—‘I am a fun person to work with! It won’t be a bore, I promise.’
‘I really appreciate the offer,’ I responded sincerely. ‘I will definitely give it a lot of thought and be in touch as soon as I decide, if that’s okay?’
‘Of course!’ Parth’s phone started to ring, and he looked at the caller ID, rolling his eyes. ‘And there they are,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll talk to you soon!’
With a few footsteps, he disappeared into the crowd so suddenly that I wondered for a brief moment if I had imaged the encounter.
I thought about Parth’s news as I made my way back to the villa. That night, the four of us took Pari out to a restaurant to thank her for taking us in. We laughed and had a great time, and I gave her my humble gift. She was delighted at the gesture and invited us to return anytime.
Pari then turned her wise eyes to mine. ‘You are responsible for your life, not Kabir’s, not Meera’s, and not mine. Yours. Just as I am not responsible for yours. The only one who can live that life is you. Go live it, my friend.’ Then she looked at the group. ‘You only have one shot at living this life. Live it with passion, not regrets.’
I hugged her, my throat tight at her offer. Between her confidence in me, and learning about Parth’s career change, I was filled with bright hope. Before we left for Goa, I felt like I was on an island, trying to cross a long channel to get back to the land I knew would bring me happiness. I could see it, I knew it was there, but how could I navigate those dangerous waters to get back to where I wanted to be? Somehow in a matter of days, a bridge had been built, but though the journey would still be long, I knew I could make my way back.
Arriving at my apartment that night, I felt the relief of coming home again. After being in Pari’s immaculate villa for so many days, I noticed that things were a little untidy. But still, it was good to be home. As much as I loved travelling, it was always a relief to be back in my own space again.
After tossing my laundry into the hamper, I took some time to wander around the rooms that made me feel so welcome; it was as if I was greeting an old friend once more. Finally, I felt settled down, sliding into my recliner and flipping open my laptop.
I wanted to do a little research into Parth’s idea. Always a numbers guy, I was curious to learn the statistics of the elderly in Bangalore, and then I wondered about Pun
e. I started clicking through links to different regions in India and felt that familiar ache that grew from wanting to share the beauty of our country with other people.
Exiting my web browser, my screen flashed to my desktop and I saw one of the many pictures I had taken of the Hirni Waterfalls in Jharkhand. Suddenly, I was there once more, looking up at the cascading falls, hearing the rush of water echoing in my ears, and feeling a light mist on my face. I loved how the Ramgarha River spread tendrils of plummeting liquid down the rocks until it settled calmly into its next journey.
How tall were the falls? I frowned, trying to remember, and turned my browser back on to look up more information about Hirni Falls. I ended up on an Instagram feed and tears filled my eyes as I looked at the beautiful images of our country.
Meera called later that evening and I was quaking with excitement. ‘I’ve made a couple of decisions that I was going to tell you about,’ I announced.
She could hear the enthusiasm in my voice and her tone matched mine when she responded. ‘Tell me!’
‘A couple of things,’ I started, still staring at the picture on my desktop. ‘First, I decided I’m going to take the job that Parth offered, assuming it’s still available.’
‘I think that’s a very wise decision,’ Meera responded. ‘I know finance isn’t something you’re eager to get back into, but his company sounds like a great idea. I have no doubt there will be a lot of challenges, but I have a feeling you will enjoy working with him.’
‘I’m sure I will,’ I said. ‘I wish you had had a chance to meet him, but. . . ahem. . . you were sleeping in.’ I couldn’t help teasing her about her lazy morning the day I went to the market, remembering returning to the villa only moments after she admitted to waking up.
‘It was a lazy day,’ she protested lightly.
‘You know I’m teasing, right?’ I took her giggle over the phone to be a ‘yes’. I continued. ‘I’ll call Parth tomorrow to get more details, but I do think it is a good next step for me. Plus, he knows it’s a stepping stone for me so when I am able to, I’ll return to my own dream of taking tour groups on trips. Which brings me to my other decision.’