Digital God

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Digital God Page 11

by Nikhilkumar Singh


  Silently, Kanu pulled out his laptop and a small black device – no larger than a regular mobile phone – from his leather bag. As he powered on his machine, punching keys to log in and connect to the network, tiny red and blue lights blinked on the device. Soon Kanu could read ‘Coffeeshop Poolside’ and ‘PC&A Notebook’ on the network window of his laptop screen. The black device, although small in size, was intercepting the signals he needed.

  For the next few minutes, Kanu worked on his laptop with surprising speed and grace, the soft instrumental music in the background blocking out the tapping of keys. In less than ten minutes, he had learnt everything there was to know about the white-skinned foreigner sitting with the laptop.

  The man, Julian Covey, was an influential hedge-fund manager of a US-based multi-strategy private asset management firm called Panther Capital Advisor. Though the firm was registered with the stock market regulatory body its managers had been embroiled in controversies for their alleged role in insider trading. From his intercepts, Kanu learnt that the mandate for Julian was simple: dump banking stocks and liquidate their position, irrespective of market conditions.

  Kanu opened his mailbox and sent an encrypted e-mail to an unknown group. His message was simple and did not include any justification. ‘Get rid of all ICICFC and all other banking shares. PC&A to liquidate their position today.’

  Later that morning, Kanu strolled away from Hotel Royal-Hilton, his black leather messenger bag still hanging from his shoulder. All that the two guards watching the surveillance camera feeds noticed was the familiar sight of a tech yuppie walking out of the coffee shop with one hand in his pocket and a black leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

  Outside, an ambulance wailed relentlessly at being stuck in traffic, while on the sidewalk a group of college girls stood underneath a large umbrella eating masala corn and giggling.

  Kanu stood there, as if waiting for somebody. Soon a shiny black BMW pulled up next to him. He opened the rear door, tossed his laptop bag inside and slid into the car.

  TWELVE

  6–31 December 2007

  T

  he voices and chatter were impossible to ignore, and they seemed to grow louder with every passing second. Under ordinary circumstances, these distractions wouldn’t have made Darshu lose focus. As a copy-editor of the Afternoon Times, her morning stint at the desk consisted of revising copies for the afternoon pull-out. She sat in her cubicle dressed in a collared white shirt under a black sweater and a pair of blue skinny jeans.

  Eventually, the growing chatter made her turn around. Almost all her colleagues had gathered around the desk of Kiran Shah.

  Kiran was a senior business correspondent of the Afternoon Times and had pulled up the trading terminal from a wire that gave instant trading positions from the Mumbai stock exchange.

  ‘I just don’t believe this. It’s a vertical drop,’ Kiran exclaimed, pointing to the screen that displayed a moving graph. His personal laptop, right next to it, although slow in reporting positions, flashed the breaking news from the CNB website: Stock Exchange down 400 points. ‘It’s actually 485 points down and it’s still sliding,’ Kiran shouted.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Darshu asked, as she reached Kiran’s desk to get a better understanding of what was going on.

  Nobody spoke except for Kiran’s shrill cry. ‘I’ve never seen it this bad. The stock market is down 500 points in just three minutes! The market is baked!’

  ‘500 points down?’ Darshu asked.

  ‘Yeah, it’s touching the depths of Niagara Falls!’ a cheerful voice from behind said. It was Suhail, a young reporter.

  Darshu stared, mouth agape, as the readings on the screen went down from 510 points to 530, then 577.

  The graph on the terminals didn’t make sense. The downward movement every millisecond resembled the movement of the stock market. ‘Now it’s 620 points down. It’s madness,’ exclaimed Kiran shaking his head.

  The other reporters who had gathered around Kiran’s terminal were also trying to figure out the mystery.

  ‘RILL is down 4 per cent. Sathyamev is down 10 per cent. ICICFC Bank is down 15 per cent. Would you believe this? 15 per cent down in three minutes flat!’ came the cheerful voice of Suhail again.

  Suhail hovered over Darshu’s shoulder. He enjoyed watching the market go boom and then crash. Today was his lucky day.

  ‘Sathyamev is down? How much did you say?’ asked Darshu.

  ‘87 points. It must be more now. But look at all the banking stocks. Collectively they just shaved off 20 per cent in a matter of minutes!’ said Suhail.

  ‘It’s mayhem out there!’ Kiran exclaimed. ‘Thankfully … have they suspended the trading? Yup! This is going to be one of those days I use to explain to my kids why not to invest in the stock market.’

  Just then a middle-aged lady in a purple sari tapped on Darshu’s shoulder. ‘There’s a phone call for you on my landline number. Some guy. Keanu?’

  ‘Hello … Darshu here.’

  ‘Darshu, this is Kanu,’ the voice answered. ‘So good to hear your voice.’ Kanu paused. He was calling from the comfort of a luxury car, cruising through the Queen’s Necklace in Mumbai. ‘Hello? You there?’ He paused again.

  ‘Yeah, I am listening. Is that really you, Kanu?’ she said.

  ‘Hey, how are you?’ he said.

  ‘Hey, I am good. Thank you. How have you been? What took you so long to call?’

  ‘I was in Mumbai. Wanted to meet you. How about Goodies outside CST Station, that’s where your office is, right?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘See you at two, during the lunch break.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Before she could say any more, the line went dead and Darshu was left holding the receiver. She kept staring at the receiver, distracted. Figure out the stock market collapse or meet Kanu? Why did the market collapse so suddenly?

  Seen from a distance, the Goodies Restaurant didn’t look like much, especially considering its small entrance on the ground floor that led to the main dining area above. But, of the many food joints on the street, Goodies served authentic Gujarati dishes, making it the most sought-after place for office-goers.

  By the time Darshu reached, it was already 2.35. She walked inside the restaurant and realized the man sitting alone, wearing a grey suit, tie and shiny black boots, was in fact Kanu. Whatever happened to his jeans?

  Kanu caught her eye and stood up, grinning. She flashed a smile but only shook his hand, a little unsure how to greet him.

  ‘Thank god! You’re here,’ she said. ‘Look at you, how have you been?’ The smile never left her face as she pulled out the chair opposite him.

  ‘Good. I can’t believe you’re here. Where have you been all this while?’

  ‘In Mumbai. What about you?’

  ‘Different places.’ He smiled. ‘Have a seat. What will you have?’

  ‘Thanks.’

  The waiter approached the table just as Darshu was about to take her seat. ‘Would you like to have a bottle of mineral water?’ the man asked.

  ‘Yes, please,’ replied Kanu. After the waiter had left, Kanu looked at her, eyebrows raised. ‘I’ve been waiting and waiting. I thought you wouldn’t come. You are late by forty minutes.’ He looked at his wristwatch and then his cell phone. ‘Now, forty-two minutes!’

  ‘You didn’t give me a phone number to call you back. What was I supposed to do?’ she said.

  The waiter appeared with a bottle of water. ‘Would you like to order something?’

  ‘So, what will you have, Darshu?’ Kanu asked her as he glanced back at the waiter. ‘We’ll let you know in a minute.’ Then, very earnestly, Kanu leaned forward to inform her. ‘I thought you wouldn’t come, so I ate!’ he whispered.

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Look at this place.’ Kanu threw his hands up in air. ‘They wouldn’t let me sit here without food on my table.’

  ‘That’s so mean. You called me for lunch a
nd you couldn’t wait?’

  ‘Look at this man.’ Kanu pointed at the waiter who was busy collecting menus from the nearby table, not far away. ‘Do you think he would have allowed me to sit here without stuffing my face?’

  She glanced at the waiter, who looked more like a bouncer from a movie. ‘Okay, I’ll forgive you this time.’ Then, turning to the waiter, she called out, ‘Excuse me.’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am.’

  ‘We’d like to have, um, two paav-bhaji and two mosambi juices.’ Then she glanced back at Kanu. ‘The second one is of course for you.’

  ‘Thanks, but no thanks!’ he said after the waiter left. ‘So what are you up to these days?’

  ‘I am with the Afternoon Times. Been a long time. You know how it was in Hyderabad.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Those were tough days. Every day in the office I had to pretend that things were normal. After my story on Sathyamev, our editor got himself a plush car! I know what must have happened. Soon after I started looking for a job and this is where I landed.’ She poured water from the bottle into one glass and then the other. ‘So you are on a business trip? I mean, here in Mumbai?’ She slid one glass in his direction.

  ‘Thank you,’ he smiled. ‘I live here.’

  ‘You live here? Really? How long have you been here, Kanu? At least you could have called me.’

  ‘Almost one year. But I don’t stay anywhere very long.’

  ‘Where do you live?’

  ‘As I said, in Mumbai.’

  ‘Yeah, where in Mumbai?’

  ‘Do you really want to know?’ He paused and stared at her with his eyebrows raised, like she’d asked the wrong question. ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘Okay, if you don’t want to tell, forget it!’ she said, laughing.

  Kanu felt bad about jumping all over her, but he had his reasons. ‘Remember, the last time when we met it was the sixth of December? Your article was published a day before?’ he said.

  ‘Really? You remember that –’

  ‘And today is the sixth. That’s the reason I called.’

  ‘You mean to say, you waited for this day to call me?’

  ‘Why else would I tell you this?’

  ‘C’mon, you could have called me any time.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right. But things were –’

  ‘You don’t have to explain,’ she said, not quite looking convinced with her own statement.

  The waiter arrived with two plates of paav-bhaji and two glasses of juice, placed everything in front of them, and went away. Darshu turned to Kanu. ‘The food looks good. Let’s see if it tastes just as good.’

  ‘It’s delicious. This is the second time I’m eating it!’ He smiled.

  ‘So what is it that you do?’ she asked.

  ‘I am a stock market analyst, um, rather a hedge-fund manager. I think stock market analyst is a better term?’

  ‘Really? What are you doing out here? The market just crashed – you are in the wrong place!’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right. But I’ve a team. I can afford a day out.’

  ‘So you are the boss,’ she said, nodding her head mischievously.

  ‘Yeah, see that shiny car outside? On the other side of the street?’

  ‘The red one?’

  ‘No, the black one.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well, that’s not mine.’

  She smiled. ‘Okay?’

  ‘But I can rent a luxury car for a day or two. I earn a decent living. No complaints.’

  ‘So you’re are stock market broker, but you don’t work, ’coz you have a team and you can hire a chauffeur-driven car. Am I missing something here?’

  ‘You’re a damn good detective. You’re hired!’ he said as they both started to laugh.

  Kanu’s phone rang, interrupting their conversation. He didn’t answer it right away as he considered the name flashing on the screen. ‘Sorry, I have to take this,’ he said before speaking into the device. ‘Yeah, Sandhu?’ Kanu paused to take in the information. ‘455. It’s still high. I think it will go down further. We did our bit, now we just need to keep tracking Ghoshal’s move. You know what I mean?’

  Kanu put the phone on the table and picked up the juice that came with their meals.

  ‘Did you notice the unusual movement in the stock market today? It’s a vertical collapse! It’s more than 600 points down in a single trading session.’

  ‘Now it’s down by over 1,000 points. But it will recover close to 600 points before the close.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘That the market will recover?’

  ‘Wild guess. And there’s something called margin calls? These promoters and companies will do everything to bring back their valuation.’

  ‘Hmm, so you know a great deal about the market,’ she said. ‘I think Sathyamev stocks are also falling sharply. Banking stocks were hit the worst.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It all came back to me when they were talking about Sathyamev today. It’s a coincidence that you chose this day to call. How have you been?’

  ‘Life is good. Sathyamev is doing what it does best. Pushing numbers.’

  ‘Kanu, you’re still upset?’

  ‘Not sure …’ He looked away.

  Darshu wanted to ask, but figured it was best to leave it alone.

  It was 3.20 when the waiter returned with the cheque. Kanu raised his hand, gesturing that the bill was for him.

  ‘It was nice of you to come and meet me after all these years,’ said Kanu, putting the money in the folder, cash sticking out. ‘You know how it was …’

  ‘Yeah, I know … I am so glad to see you too!’ she said.

  Since she arrived at the restaurant an hour ago, she had remained oblivious to the world around her. Now she was out on the street again.

  ‘Mumbai. This is my place. I feel like I belong here.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘But sometimes when I open my e-mail account, I have this nagging fear someone might be accessing it.’

  ‘What are you looking at me for?’ He smiled.

  ‘Have you been looking through my e-mail?’

  ‘No. Why would I? I have my own work.’

  ‘I know. Just that creepy feeling.’

  ‘Do I look like a creep?’

  ‘It’s not –’

  ‘Your office is not far away. Can I walk you to your office? I mean, if I don’t sound like a creep already.’

  ‘You don’t have to ask.’ She smiled.

  They walked along South Mumbai Street, and then turned left towards her office. Their walk didn’t last for more than five minutes. Kanu looked up at the towering Afternoon Times office, then at his watch, before fixing his gaze on her.

  ‘It didn’t feel awkward, really, to walk you to your office,’ he said, eyes still on her. ‘Now, don’t look at me like that. I’m being honest here.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘No, I mean it. I don’t know … I just feel there’s so much to say. You know? Lots of catching up to …’ He looked at her uncertainly.

  She was smiling.

  THIRTEEN

  6–31 December 2007

  T

  he next afternoon, Darshu was at her desk when Mrs Desai walked up to her with a scornful look on her face.

  ‘Who is this Keanu Reeves guy? He’s on the phone again for you, Darshu,’ Mrs Desai said.

  ‘Thanks!’ said Darshu as she hurried to take the call.

  ‘Yeah, Darshu here,’ she said, picking up the receiver.

  ‘Hi, it’s me. Lunch at two? Same place?’ Kanu said.

  ‘Can you call on my mobile? My boss is getting angry.’ She smiled at Mrs Desai who had returned to her seat.

  ‘But I don’t have your number.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll give you my number when I come. And don’t finish your lunch before I arrive!’

  The conversation lasted just a minute. When Darshu put down
the receiver, she winked at Mrs Desai. ‘Yeah, you’re right. He’s the same guy from A Walk in the Clouds!’

  ‘I hate you!’ Mrs Desai smiled.

  Kanu was waiting for her outside Goodies amid the busy commuters of CST. He seemed to be enjoying the Mumbai winter, wearing a grey sweater over a grey checked shirt and navy blue pants.

  ‘Hi,’ said Darshu extending her hand to him. ‘Thank god you’re not inside stuffing your face.’ She gestured to the entrance. ‘Shall we?’

  ‘Hey, hold on. We’re not going to Goodies? Are

  we?’

  ‘You invited me to Goodies, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, I said Goodies. But that man inside? You know, if it were possible, he would force me to finish my food in two minutes, take away all my money and then throw me out.’

  ‘Now you’re being grumpy. What’s wrong with you? C’mon!’ She tried to shove him in the direction of the restaurant.

  ‘How about Taj?’

  ‘Taj? That’s on the other side of the city.’

  ‘But it’s only a nice ten-minute ride away!’ He looked at the car in front of them and motioned. ‘That car you see there, that shiny black one?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s not yours.’

  ‘Right, that’s the one I’ve hired today.’

  ‘We have a young waiter for a change,’ Kanu whispered, as a young man in a bow tie and a white jacket approached them.

  ‘Good evening, Ma’am, Sir,’ he said, handing over the menu. ‘Let me know when you’re ready to order.’

  ‘Thank you, Kamlesh. We’ll let you know!’ said Kanu.

  The waiter disappeared into the kitchen. The lighting at the Taj was subtle and warm, the temperature just right, and business news played quietly on a TV screen in a corner.

  Kanu leaned in. ‘Did you notice how polite he was?’

  ‘Did you notice the price column in the menu?’

  ‘Point taken.’

  She stared at him as if he were a stranger. ‘You know what? I have a new name for you. Keanu Reeves.’

 

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