‘Hi Rishabh.’
‘Where the HELL are you?’ Rishabh shouted.
‘Just outside, eating.’
‘Wow, that’s what you have come here for. Truly amazing. Do you have any idea what we have missed?’
‘What?’
‘An investor from Indian Investors Network was standing right in front of me. I was searching for you all over, but you were nowhere to be found.’
‘Why did you not talk to him?’ I casually asked.
‘I thought we both should talk together. I would have introduced us as IITians, and besides, since you are a bestselling author, it would have completely floored him. Amol, how can you be so casual?’ Rishabh yelled.
I didn’t respond, marked by a nonchalant indifference and irreverence for everyone present there. ‘You should have talked to him. Anyway, where’s he now?’
‘He’s gone.’
‘He would have gone for lunch. He’ll be back,’ I said and cut the call. I tried Priya’s number to let out my frustration but she didn’t pick up.
Back in the hall, I saw Rishabh interacting with some potential clients. I took out my cards and went to the next stall. Just as I proudly introduced myself as the co-founder of YourQuote, the other guy replied, ‘I already talked to your partner, I guess.’ The same thing happened at each and every other stall that I went to. Rishabh, being so efficient, had talked to each one of them.
I was mortified. I went to the portico, found an isolated spot, and called Priya again. She picked up this time.
‘Priya, why the HELL do you not pick up my calls. Don’t you understand that I get worried?’ Angered with myself, I vented out at my softest target.
‘Amol, talk nicely, otherwise I will never pick up your calls.’
‘Are you threatening me? Don’t pick up, ever. I will come over to your PG and bang doors. I will create a scene everywhere you go.’
‘And I will just cut this call. Goodbye, forever.’
I returned back to Rishabh. He ignored me completely to everyone’s notice, left the seminar hall with a group of people he had networked with for lunch. At first I felt bad and even a bit jealous that I had run away at the time I could have networked with people, but when I saw him going to the restaurant of the hotel itself, I got really happy. I saved money, while he was going to spend a lot.
The lunch was over and people started assembling in the seminar hall once again. I was at the Indian Investors Network (IIN) stall, interacting with the counter boy Shadab who was a college student. I saw Rishabh coming towards me and I was now geared up to please him.
‘Hi, you know what, he’s Shadab. He’s going to connect us to Mr Anand, from IIN, in a few minutes,’ I proudly exclaimed to Rishabh. He was not amused.
‘I already had a talk with Mr Anand during lunch. He hosted us there,’ Rishabh informed and started walking away.
‘Did he pay for the lunch?’ I asked, that being my primary concern.
‘No, the sponsors took care of it,’ I went green with envy. ‘He would recommend us to the IIN monthly presentation to the panel.’
‘Wow, but why didn’t you take me along?’
‘Because food seemed more important to you then,’ he taunted and went away.
Back home, I went to meet Priya for what I told her was to be the last time. She joined me at the Huda City Centre metro station and I made her walk three kilometers till Galleria market with me as I had a lot of things to say.
I thanked her for being a part of my life, for making me whatever I could become in the past three and half years, for inspiring me, for being my support, my honest critic, and listening to my pathetic jokes with a smile. When it was time for me to leave, I hugged her tightly and started wailing, ‘Please don’t leave me, please. I will die without you.’
As I gathered my senses, I apologized for my impulsive behaviour. She smiled and before I left, I mumbled, ‘Can I ask you for one thing, please?’
‘Yes, sure.’
‘Hug me once,’ I asked. And she did. It was the most heartless hug ever.
War with Anjali
November 14
Rishabh and I hadn’t spoken a word with each other after that fateful day of the seminar. He would return late at night, much after I had slept. By the time I would get up, he would be long gone. It was on one of those days that I got up and checked my mails. One particular mail from Rishabh caught my eye. Anjali was cc-ed in the mail.
Amol,
We have had enough of our disorganized lives. It’s time we become serious, else, we will never be able to achieve anything. I’m implementing strict office hours where we will have to report to each other at 8 am sharp and work till 6 pm in the evening, with a one-hour break in the afternoon i.e. minimum 9 hours of work daily.
I have shared a spreadsheet where we need to report our work as we keep doing them, so that we can keep an eye on each other.
Rishabh
I appreciated the mail but didn’t like the fact that Anjali was cc-ed. Who was she to witness my criticism? A cold war had commenced. Without saying a word, I reported 11.30 am as my starting time on the spreadsheet and Anjali remarked soon enough—So you need to work till 9.30 pm today.
Anjali’s comment hurt like a gunshot wound but I chose to remain quiet. In the afternoon, while working, I noticed Rishabh plodding to and fro in the balcony. He had just had a fight with Anjali, who had arrived at our place during lunchtime. The lull that prevailed in the house was ruptured by the screams and ultimately sobs.
Using the same logic, I wrote a mail to Anjali, cc-ing Rishabh.
Dear Anjali,
I would kindly request you to not disturb the harmony of our place during office hours for your personal matters. Just want you to know that our flat is also our office.
Please take care of it from the next time.
Amol
A few minutes later, Anjali was sent back to her hostel and Rishabh returned to the drawing room and opened his laptop. His face turned red as soon as he looked at his laptop screen. My mail had hit the bull’s eye. Sadistic pleasure, ah! He didn’t reciprocate at all till 6 pm after which he left for IIT.
At 7, while I was happily finishing the last task of the day, I received a long sarcastic reply from Anjali.
Dear Amol,
Thank you for your very kind mail. I will certainly not disturb the harmony of your office, which you have certainly maintained to the best of your ability.
When I came today, I didn’t come as an employee of YourQuote, I came as a friend of Rishabh’s. As far as I think, along with it being YourQuote’s office, it is also Rishabh’s and your home, both of you having equal ownership of it.
Anyway, I appreciate your frankness and I promise that I will never disrupt ‘your’ office hours, irrespective of whatever you do at your ‘home’ at the same time, being the director.
Anjali
I was stunned by the mail. I waited for an hour for Rishabh to come online hoping that he would reply and reprimand Anjali. But he remained passive for more than half an hour. Infuriated, I sent a brutal mail.
Anjali,
I won’t be sarcastic with you because it will make matters worse. I just want to be frank with you. I am terribly hurt with your mail and I cannot imagine working in this company if you continue to be working here.
More than my disappointment with you, I am highly let down with Rishabh who chose to remain quiet despite seeing your insolent mail thrown at me in this way.
I don’t know if things will ever be right.
Amol
This time, in less than fifteen minutes I received a long hateful mail from Rishabh.
Amol,
You had no right to ask her to not come. I pay half the bills as you do. If she had ruined harmony of the house for the one hour when she had come, then I can also blame Priya for spoiling the harmony of the house for an entire week during your birthday, but I chose to let it go. Moreover, you have no right to talk about my personal
relationship with Anjali. I don’t give anybody the right to abuse my relationship and if you do it again, you will have to suffer the consequences.
Regards,
Rishabh
I didn’t wait to reply anymore. I had lost hope and I had lost trust in Rishabh. My mind tussled with the choice whether to share my misery and angst with Priya or not. Fearing a nervous breakdown, I gave in and chose to go against my word that I wouldn’t call her. I tried her number but she didn’t pick up.
I called Pratik, told him that things at YourQuote were getting out of my control and I was forced to contemplate quitting the venture for a job, though my heart was still in my company. Pratik, instead of sympathizing with me, chided me.
‘Are you crazy? In this time of recession, how will you manage to find yourself a job? There are a hundred start-ups sprouting every day, and no interviewer pays heed to start-ups until you have raised money. You need to have someone bet money on you to validate your company in front of others’ eyes. So, be calm and find an investor instead,’ Pratik explained. His advice made sense and I decided to sort things out.
I messaged Rishabh on phone: ‘Enough of us wasting time. Let’s sort things out and get back to work.’ It worked. He returned home late at night and together we went to Saket to chill for a bit, much like the old times.
He asked me if there was anything wrong between Priya and me, and I finally told him that she had dumped me. He consoled me and told me things were going to be alright. We mutually decided that office hours would be religiously adhered to, personal and professional matters would be kept apart, and Anjali was not going to be fired but instead made an assistant to Rishabh in his marketing work.
Fair enough, I thought.
A Date with Investors
November
Entreprenurial Leadership Program (ELP) is a recognized international program which carries out a series of lectures on various important aspects of entrepreneurship. We had applied for it during our initial phase in Delhi back in 2011. Due to the competitive nature of the program, with two layers of shortlisting, it had become a sort of status symbol for newbie entrepreneurs and wannapreneurs. When I failed to clear the second level, it caused a cold rift between us. Ironically, we both had made it to the ELP’s first list and they had interviewed us both for the final cut, Rishabh first. Rishabh’s interview went on for an hour, while I was interviewed second for just five minutes. They said Rishabh had answered all their queries and proclaimed himself as the one running the company, while he said that I just handled social media as a co-founder. This was the beginning of Rishabh’s aspiration to become the prime face of the venture. I didn’t say anything to Rishabh about it at first, but when the results arrived, I was heartbroken. I flinched in self-hate for allowing Rishabh to take the lead without asserting control from my side. Rishabh now proudly wrote Fellow, ELP along with Co-founder Director in his team slide, while I was just a Co-founder Director. I accepted my fate.
Being the outgoing person that he was, Rishabh made several friends in ELP and often hung out with them to discuss the b-plan but I never joined him, coming up with random excuses. The truth was that my rejection from ELP had shredded my self-confidence completely.
On a chilly winter morning on November 16, I was woken up from my sleep very early, shocked to see Priya’s name flashing on my cellphone screen. It was after a long time that she had called me. I woke up to her calm and composed voice confessing, ‘I don’t want to be dishonest with you. That’s why this call. I was with Anirudh last night and I kissed him.’
I was too baffled to respond and could just mumble a mild ‘Why?’
‘I just felt like it. It was platonic—it comforted me somehow.’
‘Do you love him?’ I whispered, almost speechless.
‘No. Not at all. I just like him,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. But, as a matter of fact, I’m not really sorry I did it,’ she mumbled. My sleep was history now. Having nothing left to speak, I disconnected the call.
In three days, my condition had become so bad that I started smoking four to five cigarettes a day. I was heartbroken not just by Rishabh’s sidetracking of me, but by Priya’s betrayal as well.
It was her birthday on the 19th and I called her two days prior to tell her not to expect a call from me on her birthday.
‘Don’t do that to me. I’m not seeing him anymore,’ she replied.
‘But you have not yet shunned him from your life. Isn’t it?’
She didn’t respond. As promised, I did not call her. Not once. The entire day passed and I kept getting agitated thinking that she would be with Anirudh. Just when I was about to retire for the day, I received a call from her.
‘I am so sorry baby. I have committed a grave mistake. My senses deceived me. I could not see the wrong path I had taken,’ she lamented.
I chose not to reciprocate and her sobs filled the silence.
‘I waited for your call the entire day, I didn’t move out of my house, didn’t pick up anybody’s call, just because you didn’t wish me. I was angry initially, but then I realized that you had been right in not calling me,’ she said placidly and continued, ‘I didn’t deserve your wish.’ She burst into tears.
‘Happy Birthday. You can’t imagine how difficult it was for me to not call you,’ I said finally. ‘I miss our old times, the old you, the one I fell in love with.’
‘I would bring her back, for you. I promise. I’m so sorry,’ she whimpered.
‘Do you love me?’ I asked.
There was silence.
‘At present I don’t, but I know that if given a chance, I would—truly, madly, and deeply,’ she said with an unparalleled conviction.
‘Can you do one thing for me? Call Anirudh and tell him that you never want to meet him again,’ I asked.
‘I have already done that. When he called to wish me, I told him he was the worst person I had come across.’
‘What was his response?’
‘He asked me why I was saying so. I said because he was a doper and didn’t treat me well. He abused me after which I hung up the call.’
‘What did the fucker say to you? I will call him and teach him a lesson.’
‘Amol, chill. He’s history now. Ignore him. Let bygones be bygones and go to sleep.’
But sleep seemed like a distant possibility when my mind was abuzz with a million questions about our future together.
November 20
Our long overdue business PPT for Excel Ventures was still to be finalized and Rishabh took the responsibility on himself to complete it. He asserted that he had got a lot of insights into how to prepare a business plan through ELP and would do justice to it. Rishabh had this innate habit of needlessly delaying anything that he undertook. He could not do anything on time, especially tasks that required deskbound work from him.
In the meanwhile, we started pitching to investors who we had interacted with earlier through mails talking about our progress and vision. Some showed interest, others comfortably ignored.
We got introduced to the CEO of ClickToCloset, who was eager to invest in us. The CEO of the company was an NRI Tamilian named Kartikeya, popularly known as KT. KT had previously worked in McKinsey & Company for ten years in the US and had returned to India to start-up and get acquainted with the opportunities that shining India had to offer. During his internship, Mishra had mentioned to him about YourQuote, about the fact that we were a Private Limited Company, about the fact that we, the founders, had left our jobs for the start-up and were looking to raise money. On one lazy Friday, Rishabh called excitedly and informed me that KT wanted to meet us. He told me that KT’s NRI friend Rajan Biyani wanted to invest in Indian internet start-ups. This was like a godsend opportunity for us—while we were searching for interested investors, an interested investor was looking forward to meet us. The meeting was scheduled at CCD in Nehru Place, Delhi’s commercial hub near KT’s office. We had been waiting for around 20 minutes.
‘Do big
guys always arrive late? He said 5, it’s almost going to be 5.30,’ I complained. No sooner had I uttered the words that a fair skinned man entered CCD in haste and Rishabh stood up to welcome him. It was KT. His impeccable dressing and a Rolex watch on his wrist assured me that our lunch expenses would be taken care of. The two of us ordered the costliest delicacies on the menu, while he was content with just a cup of cappuccino. Once the food arrived, KT came to the point straightaway. ‘Who among you two handles the business end?’ he sternly asked. Rishabh shyly raised his hand, as though he was going to get ragged.
‘I want to know your entire time table. How do you spend your day? Right from the first call that you make to the last mail that you do. Tell me,’ KT began. I knew that he had no answer. Highly disorganized, he would begin and end things at his own sweet will.
Rishabh fumbled and then I took over the reins saying, ‘Most of the major decisions are taken by a mutual discussion between the two of us.’ Rishabh echoed my response. KT, who played the strict cop, was not satisfied. ‘Business decisions need to be taken by one person. One person is the CEO, not two. If you are on a call with a client and he offers a final deal, you wouldn’t ask him to wait until you two discuss it with each other, would you? Your decision prevails. Who takes that decision?’
‘Rishabh,’ I said truthfully. He was the only person at that time dealing with clients. I gave him the co-founder status without foreseeing that tomorrow it would place me second in my own venture.
KT wooed us with his smooth talks and asked us about our strategies for the future. We told him that we had hit the gold mine by finding an untapped Search Engine Optimized word (SEO), which had more than 100 million searches on Google every month. That did the trick and got him excited about our idea all the more. He said that he would schedule a meeting with his NRI friend Rajan Biyani at the earliest and prepare us for the angel pitching.
He got a call from someone and left our meeting abruptly, saying that he would call a meeting sometime later. Everything seemed okay until the waiter came towards us with the check, which KT had easily forgotten about and left. We had eaten stuff worth a thousand bucks and it was a huge blow to us. We calmed ourselves by the fact that we might get investment fairly soon.
Because Shit Happened Page 20