Because Shit Happened

by Harsh Snehanshu

  Epilogue

  June 2012

  Dhanbad, Jharkhand

  It had been four months since I left Delhi. And, to add to the ongoing banter amongst my friends, relatives and neighbours, I was jobless. My parents, having wrongly trusted me once, were visibly concerned, while I was irritable, reticent, and reserved. I didn’t meet anyone during this phase, and did not even come out of my house a single time. Often, I overheard my parents discussing among themselves whether I was in depression, or whether they should take me to see a psychiatrist. They tried hard to talk to me, but I always avoided any conversation that involved questions related to YourQuote, Rishabh, Anjali, or Priya. My secrets were meant to be buried within me. My laptop was my only companion, in front of which I spent countless hours, perhaps the only sign of normalcy that I displayed to my parents.

  In mid-March, I was informed that Rishabh had shut down yourquote.in as he couldn’t run it solo and got hired by another start-up at an executive position. The news failed to register its effect. It couldn’t make me happy, couldn’t make me sad. I was indifferent to everything that belonged to my past.

  ‘Are you depressed? Your father and I have been very concerned all the while,’ asked my Mom, concerned about my health.

  ‘No, not at all, Mom,’ I instantaneously replied.

  ‘So, what have you decided with your life? An IIT degree doesn’t look good when it’s not brought into use. Why aren’t you thinking of a job? Your uncle called yesterday and was saying that Mr Mukherjee, that investor from HUL, could hire you in his company. Do you want me to talk to him?’

  I stared into her eyes and questioned, ‘Mom, remember when we lived in Patna, I had once very emotionally asked whether you would ever leave me.’

  ‘Yes, I remember. I still wonder what made you ask that question.’

  I took out my business card from the drawer, which stated ‘Amol Sabharwal, Co-founder and Creative Director, yourquote.in’ and crushed it in front of her. She was trying hard to read my mind.

  ‘Do you remember what you had answered?’ I asked and threw the card on the ground.

  ‘Yes, … and I realize that I was wrong. Apparently, you left your child, and didn’t ever turn back,’ she said, pointing to the crushed card on the floor.

  ‘Mom,’ I whispered, ‘you were not wrong, because…’ I made her more puzzled, as I continued, ‘I didn’t leave my child, I just divorced my partner.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I took my laptop, maximized the browser, and placed it in front of her. A brand new website with a new domain name, with a suave user interface and the tagline, ‘You deserve to be quoted’ lay before her wet eyes. She was dumbstruck.

  ‘I just renamed my child, Mom and I’m the father—the founder. This child has no mother, this time.’

  I smiled and took her to the bottom of the page, which said, much like the first version of Facebook, ©Amol Sabharwal Production.

  Her eyes had become heavy, as she hugged me and said, ‘But, it has a grandmother.’

  ‘The last four months, building this was what kept me busy, Mom. And yes, do ask Mr Mukherjee if he still wants to invest in my venture.’ I winked at my mother.

  My Dad sleepily walked into my room and said, ‘Where is my grandson? I just overheard something.’

  We both laughed as I introduced my baby to his grandfather. He couldn’t believe it at first. He looked at me with his big eyes that had to be assured that he really was awake. When the reality dawned on him, he hugged me and lifted me in his arms.

  It was time to cut the umbilical cord. I logged into the website and penned down the first quote there:

  In a war where both sides are wrong, the side which loses first, wins.

  I re-read the line twice. There was something that didn’t seem right. The statement, though the first ever quote in my new website, didn’t do what it said. It didn’t make me feel like a winner. Not at all. I logged into Facebook, opened my block-list and unblocked two names from there. Priya Singh and Rishabh Dev. I stalked their profiles.

  Beneath Rishabh’s cover pic that carried his happy face, his designation said ‘COO at ApparelFactory followed by ‘in a relationship with Anjali Yadav’. He looked happy, he looked satisfied. He didn’t look like a loser.

  I opened Priya’s profile. It was for the first time ever since I last blocked her that I saw her face. She was sitting on Anirudh’s lap and they were looking at each other, smiling. Her relationship with Anirudh was four months old now. Clearly it wasn’t a rebound relationship. Even she looked happy and for a change I genuinely felt happy for her. I didn’t need a cigarette now since I quit.

  I read the first quote that I’d posted on my brand new website once again. Again and again, until I allowed my gut feeling to guide me in my venture. I removed it and cut the ribbon with another new quote:

  And they lived happily thereafter, without each other.

  Acknowledgements

  No one deserves more gratitude for this book than my parents, Sudha and S.S. Pathak.

  This book is also for my sister Saumya, my choti ma Neetu Pathak, my mentor Ashish Tulsian, and friends who have stood by me like a pillar of strength during my difficult phase—Keshav Agrawal, Ravi Mehta, Akshay Gupta, Sohail Gupta, Abhishek Gupta, Vidhu Garg, Ankit Prashar, Shruti Vajpayee, and Durgesh Nandan.

  I am thankful to the extremely professional and prompt team at Random House India, especially Gurveen Chadha and Milee Ashwarya, for giving my story a voice.

  A Note on the Author

  Harsh Snehanshu is the bestselling author of the Kanav-Tanya trilogy, comprising the novels Oops! ‘I’ Fell in Love, Ouch! That ‘Hearts’, and She’s Single, I’m Taken. He is a graduate of IIT Delhi and a former internet entrepreneur. Based in Delhi, Harsh is currently travelling across India writing his fifth book. He is fond of music, photography, and public speaking. You could reach him at:

  www.facebook.com/harshsnehanshu1

  www.twitter.com/harshsnehanshu

  harshsnehanshu@gmail.com