Kanu shook his head. He was unwilling to accept her explanation. After a while, Darshu asked, ‘Do you have a cabin I can use?’
‘I don’t think we have any free. Here, you can use my computer.’ Kanu checked his register. ‘I usually don’t allow people to use it. But you can. It’s the one to the left – at the extreme end.’
‘Thank you!’ Darshu smiled.
‘You are a journalist, Darshu. Now, don’t dig too deep into my files.’
He winked.
While working on his computer, she realized Kanu’s defining quality was his openness. Why else would he give his private computer to me? A reporter? The desktop icons on his system – agriculture research database, university research database – indicated his interest in making information freely available to all. There were no hidden agendas.
It did not take long for Ritika to reach the cyber café. She headed straight to Kanu. She extended her hand but it was not a mere handshake. It lingered.
‘Is Darshu here?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, she’s in my cabin. At the extreme end,’ Kanu said, pointing.
Ritika did not bother to move. Perhaps she didn’t want to disturb Darshu. Perhaps she didn’t want to go anywhere. She dialled Darshu’s number.
‘Yeah, I am in the café. Why don’t you come out?’
‘Give me a minute,’ Darshu answered, ‘I am checking my e-mail.’ Her voice was audible to everyone.
When Darshu emerged, it appeared as if Ritika was using her charms to lure Kanu. He was laughing heartily with Ritika. Their body language seemed borderline inappropriate to Darshu.
‘Are we done with the report?’ she butted in.
‘Yeah, we are getting the printout,’ Ritika said.
‘Oh, printouts.’ Darshu was reminded of her first visit to the place.
‘Who knows if someone walks in to wipe the hard disc clean,’ said Ritika.
‘Again!’ added Kanu.
Darshu was least amused by their banter. ‘I know I owe you an apology, Kanu. I will correct this someday.’
Later, Darshu and Ritika stood outside, discussing something that mattered to them both.
‘What was that? You were flirting with him!’ Darshu exclaimed.
‘What’s wrong with you, Darshu? He is such an eye-candy! And so cooperative.’
‘You know, Ritika, this guy is someone very dark.’
‘That’s so rare,’ Ritika laughed. ‘Handsome and dark!’
Darshu was speechless for a while. ‘I mean dark in the sense, D-A-R-K. Shady. I am telling Ritwik about this.’
‘Go tell him. He is too busy with someone else.’
‘Poor Ritwik. Such a jerk, actually both of you are! I never liked him in the first place. So are you dumping him?’
‘Kanu said he will get a case study on agro-forestry!’
‘I asked you something,’ Darshu insisted. ‘About Ritwik?’
‘No, for God’s sake, why would I dump Ritwik?’
‘Then what was that inside?’
‘I told you, he said he’ll get a case study on agro-forestry tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, he will do anything for you. I don’t know how you do it. I need to learn a trick or two from you!’
At 10.00 p.m. that night, Darshu saw a used wireless CDMA phone on the sofa of their living room. She studied the device closely. Where does Ritika get all these freebies? Garage sale? She concluded Ritika must have borrowed it to make long-distance calls to her boyfriend. It was late in the night. She went to her room.
In the morning, Darshu woke up to the sound of chatter coming from the living room. Ritika and Kanu seemed to be connecting the wireless CDMA phone to their computer. Is that an amplifier attached to the phone? The ugly-looking electronic device had two wires connecting the phone and the computer.
‘What’s happening in here?’ Darshu asked.
‘We are getting Internet!’ Ritika replied.
‘You’re still on Windows 98. That must be slow. I’ll get you the best pirated Windows XP,’ said Kanu.
‘A pirated copy!’ Ritika squealed. She lived for a rush.
‘Remember, this is a 56k modem. It’s running on WLL technology. Not many people know this device can double up as a router. Remember, this is Windows 98, so it can slow things down. But I am installing it anyway.’ Kanu was busy setting up the device.
Darshu realized her presence was not required. Blushing, she went back to her room.
After establishing the connection, Kanu looked at Ritika and pointed to the monitor that was loading a webpage on the browser. Ritika reached for the mouse and smiled as she saw another page coming up on the screen.
‘Wow! Thank you so much!’ she said.
‘Any time! Got to go,’ he said.
‘I think you should meet Darshu before leaving.’ Ritika shouted at the top of her voice, ‘Darshu, the Internet is working! Kanu wants to say bye to you.’
‘Okay, bye!’ Darshu shouted back.
Kanu smiled and was gone.
Ritika closed the door and came back to check her computer. The web browser was slowly loading text and images when Darshu walked in.
‘Aren’t you guys going way too fast?’ asked Darshu.
‘Look, the Internet is working,’ said Ritika.
‘Why do you keep changing the subject?’
‘Going fast? What do you mean by fast?’
‘You invited him to our apartment.’
‘How else do you think he could hook up our Internet connection?’
‘Did you ask for it? Or is he giving it away just like that?’
‘I paid 400. In the market, it’s selling for just 100 bucks. “Monsoon Hungama Offer”, remember? That guy is smart. He made a profit of 300 per cent on this sale. He said, use it as long as you want, then throw it away.’
‘Yeah, I know it’s illegal. And now he can easily hack into our computer and get our passwords!’
‘Darshu, grow up!’
Darshu stared at the monitor, shocked. ‘Did you see that? My files are already gone!’
‘I put away all your files in the “Desktop Darshu” folder. Look, here!’
Darshu did not say anything.
The next day, instead of going to office, Darshu showed up at Kanu’s cyber café first. She had her reason for the visit. Kanu was cleaning up the place when he saw Darshu walk in.
‘You looking for Ritika again?’ asked Kanu.
‘No, I came to see you,’ she replied.
‘Me? No, I am not available.’
‘Seriously, why did you leave an illegal WLL phone at our home? Are you trying to get your revenge or something?’
‘Revenge? Hey, calm down.’
‘I know how these phones are procured. You must have given wrong addresses, wrong telephone bills. They are all illegal.’
‘Why do you consider everything illegal?’
‘Because, it’s illegal, that’s why. Ritika said we could use the phone as long as we want, then throw it away. Why throw it away? She is very innocent. She does not know all her phone calls can be tracked.’
‘You take white-collar crime way too seriously. Where do you get all this information from?’
‘Does that matter?’
‘Yes. Everyone around here has a WLL phone. The technology is simple. While others obtain them by producing fake electricity bills, we have them through our shop’s address.’
‘Do whatever you do. But please take away your illegal telephone.’
‘Believe me, it’s not illegal. It was lying around. That’s why I gave it to her.’ He shook his head in frustration.
At Sathyamev, Pranjal was busy collecting the printed pages of the Action Taken Report. The document contained a list of activities undertaken in the wake of the data breach reported in the Deccan Courier. When the report had been mailed to Samba Rajput, he was utterly disappointed with his team.
Many questions remain unanswered, he thundered at them. How can we miss out naming
the culprit? Did he store information only for fun or is this his usual business? What value does this information have in the outside world? Are there any customers for Sathyamev’s data?
The report was unacceptable.
Samba summoned Venkatesh to his office. ‘Do you understand the importance of getting the correct news to our CEO? No, you don’t. This report is useless.’
When Venkatesh read the report, he agreed with his boss. ‘I will handle this issue myself,’ he assured Samba. ‘I thought Pranjal would have taken corrective actions.’
Samba nodded. ‘Venkatesh, you have our SISI team at your disposal. Get our men to dig out every detail about this cyber café guy. But make sure to tell them to be subtle, you know, without fiddling or becoming too obvious.’
‘Sure,’ replied Venkatesh grimly.
Darshu left the Deccan Courier office at 6.30 that evening. She took the stairs down to the ground floor and spent the next five minutes walking along the footpath to reach St Mary’s Church, close to the ITCC office. She was aware Ritika would have gone out with her office friends. Yet she dialled her number.
‘I am outside your office, next to the exit gate of the church. Where are you?’ Darshu asked.
‘I am in Banjara. Something important?’ Ritika replied.
‘No, nothing. See you at home.’
‘Enjoy madi!’
The ecstatic reply from the other end did not surprise her. It was Saturday evening after all. Darshu decided to go home and finish her blog.
Back in the apartment, she booted up her computer. The Internet dial-up icon was a new addition to the desktop shortcut menu. She double-clicked the icon. In no time, a new window popped open on the screen with the system connected to the Internet.
Darshu logged into her Hotmail account and spent the next hour sifting through a dozen friendly mails. Send this to your 20 friends? Delete.
She felt a bit puzzled as she opened a mail from a certain Pankaj. The sender was: [email protected]. His message was short:
Hi,
Read your story. It was nice. If your e-mail ever gets hacked, I’ll let you know.
Pankaj
Darshu felt a sudden terror. She had no idea how Pankaj – if it was really him – came to know of her personal e-mail ID. What is he trying to tell me through this message? Is he trying to suggest my e-mail can get hacked? Has it been hacked into already? She straightened up and logged out immediately.
After about an hour, there was a knock on the door. Ritika was back.
‘You won’t believe what just happened. I received an e-mail from this guy called Pankaj,’ said Darshu breathlessly.
‘Now, who is Pankaj?’
‘The guy who was my source for the hacking story.’ Darshu looked distraught. ‘Remember?’
‘Okay …’
‘He messaged me to say that if my account gets hacked, he will inform me. Or maybe he will hack my account and inform me. I don’t know what he meant!’
Ritika’s face was blank, as if she were unsure of what the excitement was all about. ‘Someone messing with you?’ she finally asked.
It was a Sunday, bright and sunny. Darshu walked out of her apartment up Marredpally Road to Rezimental Street. She was drawn to MNR Cyber Café out of curiosity. But the shutters were still down when she reached the place.
She headed straight to the quaint little bakery in front of MNR. An old man, who looked like the same person from her previous visit, approached her with a glass of water that seemed muddied.
‘I will take mineral water,’ she said.
‘Anything else?’ asked the old man.
‘Can I get a strong, hot cup of tea? Like you made last time?’
‘Anything else?’
‘What all do you prepare at this early hour?’
‘Everything that you see on the menu.’ The old man waited for her order.
She studied the menu. ‘No, that’s about it,’ she said, handing the menu to him back. ‘Do you know when this shop will open?’ She pointed to the MNR Cyber Café.
‘It usually opens at 8.30. But on Sunday, it will open around 10.30.’
‘How long have they been in business? Are they new?’
‘No, they’ve been here for more than three years. Maybe more.’ He looked on at the shop and couldn’t seem to recall exactly how long it had been around.
‘Whose shop is it? Is it rented?’
‘This was originally a fruit shop. When that closed, these college students started running their computer business here.’ He shrugged, as if to say he didn’t understand what their business entailed.
‘There are two owners, right? They must be making lots of money?’
‘Yeah, sometimes there is a rush. You know, college season. Sometimes even a fly refuses to enter the shop.’
She studied the signboard with an advertisement for a mobile operator. A small inscription at the edge mentioned the shop’s name. They truly are small-time shopkeepers!
She finished her tea, paid her bill and sat there staring at her mobile uncertainly while the cyber café remained closed.
The colourful light from the computer screen flickered on Darshu’s clothing. This was not her usual white-text-over-black-screen display. She was sitting in a special cubicle in the newsroom that was connected to the Internet.
She finished doing the first task she had set for herself. She changed her password into a new alphanumeric one. She deleted all the personal contacts stored in her e-mail account. She also removed her profile picture. Later, she did the same thing on Ryze social networking site, just to be sure that everything remained safe. She searched for a piece of paper before dialling Ritika’s number from the office landline.
‘Ritika, this is Darshu. Do you have Kanu’s number?’
‘What are you doing in the office on a Sunday?’ came the reply from the other end.
‘I came here to delete my account.’
‘You what?’
‘My e-mail got hacked.’
‘You are sounding like an idiot. Someone sent you an e-mail, right? It’s just an e-mail, right?’
‘Yeah, I know. That’s why I need Kanu’s number.’
‘He’s coming this afternoon. He said he is busy now!’
‘He’s coming? Ritika, have you two started dating?’
‘No. What’s wrong with you? The system broke down. I paid 400 rupees,’ Ritika clarified.
‘Okay, fine.’ Darshu breathed a sigh of relief.
Kanu was already there when Darshu reached home. He was wearing a jacket over T-shirt and jeans. An Afghani scarf was wrapped around his neck for extra protection from the dust. He was sitting on the floor with his unique phone-attached-to-amplifier-attached-to-computer device. Darshu was not surprised that the jugaad did not last too long. Yeah, he calls it a modem. And it is broken!
Kanu greeted Darshu with a couple of questions. ‘You wanted my phone number? Something wrong?’
‘Nothing. My e-mail. You know, Pankaj sent me a message saying that if someone hacks into my e-mail, he will inform me. First of all, I didn’t give him my personal e-mail. How did he get it? Second, how will he know if my account gets hacked? That’s scary, isn’t it?’
Kanu turned to Ritika. ‘Is she always like this?’
Darshu was not finished yet. ‘Now, tell me, my closest friends keep sending me photos. I sent back photos to my friends. That’s not safe. Is it?’
‘I agree. That’s not safe,’ Kanu said. He turned his attention to Ritika again. ‘You know, I was talking about this WLL network. Not many people know that this device can be condensed into a small chip which will directly connect the user to the Internet.’ Kanu continued talking about computers and programming that made no sense.
Darshu threw her hands in the air and went inside. Ritika also went into the kitchen while Kanu continued with the work.
‘Gosh, this is way too messy!’ he cursed before getting up and dusting his hands as he tried to tuck the CPU back i
nto the cabinet. ‘Do you have a piece of cloth or something for dusting?’ he called out.
Darshu threw a piece of silk cloth in his direction. It was Ritika’s spaghetti strap top, as Ritika came out with a tissue box in her hand.
‘Darshu, why did you give him my new spaghetti?’ she screamed.
Kanu looked perplexed. ‘You call this spaghetti? I thought spaghetti was some Italian food!’
‘There are many things you don’t know then, mister,’ Darshu said teasingly. She then turned to Ritika. ‘Rits, I’ve told you many times before, don’t leave your clothes in my room.’
‘Please, don’t use that. Take this!’ pleaded Ritika, as she gently pulled her spaghetti top out of Kanu’s hands.
‘That’s okay. You girls can do the cleaning part. My work is done here. The system is working.’ Kanu worked his hand into his jeans pocket and withdrew the key to his bike. ‘Got to go,’ he said.
‘Where are you going? I was about to order biryani from Alps. You can have some biryani with us!’
‘Alps? I thought you girls cook.’
‘No, we never do the cooking part,’ informed Ritika.
‘Wait, you girls don’t cook? I can show you a place that’s the best of the best.’
The girls looked at each other.
Darshu, Ritika and Kanu sat inside Uncle’s Kitchen food canteen with steaming parathas on their plates. It was a small joint, a little further away from Somajiguda Street. The newly-built flyover with a no-entry barrier from the left side had made access to the eatery even more obscure. Yet its patrons, mostly college students, never deserted this place.
‘I told you, this place is superlicious!’ exclaimed Kanu.
‘They have six different kinds of parathas! And I can’t finish my second,’ Darshu added.
‘I am surprised no one told you about this place!’ Kanu said.
Kanu was sharing a portion of garlic paratha with Darshu, who was having the seasonal methi paratha. The onion paratha was yet to be served. For the first time in five days, Darshu was feeling comfortable in Kanu’s presence. She had found out that he too was vegetarian like her, and both of them shared the same interests in music and movies.
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