Prologue

(NOTE: Minor editing pending)

Koooo..... Kooooooo.....

The Cuckoo clock is bellowing. I look up, for the fifth time in the last one minute. It is 7PM and I am still waiting for his call. Why is he not calling?

Wait a minute! Has anything gone wrong with my cell? Murphy's Law does say that if anything can go wrong, it will.

Well, only one way to find out.

"Hello... Mom... Call me back!” I hang up.

“There should be something wrong with the incoming calls; the phone should not ring, please”, I pray.

Triiiing.... Triiiiing....

My heart leaps.

Mom calling.....

Shit! It is not him and there is nothing wrong with my phone.

"Hello Mom... No nothing important... Just wanted to talk to you... Yes I received the courier... No, did not show it to the class idiot yet..."

I smile. The content of the courier is lying on my lap-- my fifth class photo.

"...yes Mom he really is an idiot..."

Oh God! What if he calls now?

"... Mom I got to go now, I will call you again..."

Oops, she is furious because I called and I am hanging up so fast.

"... sorry Mom... I just got reminded of something else... Bye"

I pick up the photo and look at the 32 bright faces; I counted a few minutes back to pass time. I am in the front row sitting squatted on the floor between Mansi and Snigdha, my best friends. We all have two pony tails tied up with a blue ribbon. Our school color was blue and our school uniform was a combination of skyblue and dark blue. Our class teacher, Miss Lakshmi, our principal Mr. Thomas, Vice Principal Mrs. Vani and Director Sir Mr Sathyanarayan are seated on chairs behind us. Director Sir has his beloved ancient copy of Wren and Martin in his hands. Behind them are the steps where we used to have our lunch. The steps are partially hidden by three rows of boys, shortest in the front and tallest in the last row. We were told on the previous day that there would be a photo session so all our dresses were neatly pressed, prim and proper, except for one boy. We are all looking towards the camera except for one boy. His face is towards the camera, but his eyes have a sideways glance as if trying to look at something over his shoulder. He has an evil lopsided grin on his face. But what is making him most noticeable in the photo is his half tucked shirt. The left half is somewhat tucked but the right half is not tucked. It is hanging loosely all over his shorts. My guess is he had a fight seconds before this photograph was taken. It is amazing that the photographer did not notice this weirdness. But with him being dark, dirty, thin and short and badly in need of a haircut, maybe the photographer thought correcting this little anomaly would make little difference.

This fellow was horrible at studies. Half the time he was standing outside the class either for not completing his homework or for misbehaving in the class. His handwriting was horrible. I could write better with my right hand. I am left-handed by the way. As if all this was not enough, he stammered while he spoke. He needed three or four attempts to communicate his name properly. I still remember him say ‘I a..am vi…vi…vi..ram’. V.Ram?

‘No Vikram’ the rest of us used to shout.

Dad got transferred when I was in 7^th and we moved to Pune. I kept in touch with Mansi and Snigdha for about a year after that but we never spoke about him. Why should we? He was an insignificant little brat. But I did not forget him because whenever I show someone my album, I stop at this photo and take great pleasure in describing him as the class idiot who was always shabby, was horrible at studies and couldn’t read, write or speak properly.

I never thought I will fall in love with him, but I did, after 12 years.

I look at the large brown Cockoo clock, a little past 7.20.

“Shall I call him? No, I will not! Why should I? He…”

Triiiinng. Triiinng.

Again, my heart leaps. Gingerly, I glance at my cell phone.

Vikram Calling…

At last!

“Hello!” I answer, trying to sound angry.

“Hey sorry Nish, I got stuck with some work. I know I kept you waiting, I will compensate for it, promise”

I smile; happy that he is feeling guilty. But he never gives excuses. He values others’ time as much as he does his own. Even if he is late because he is out saving the world and I am simply waiting for him, he would still feel guilty.

“That’s ok Vikram. No harm done. Say, shall I come directly to Forum instead of you coming here to pick me up?”

“No way! I am coming. Be ready, I will pick you up in 10 minutes” he says and hangs up.

Get ready? I got ready an hour back!

We have been going out for the past 4 months, sometimes just the two of us and at times along with Rahul and Mansi. Vikram got real busy in the last 3 months when he left Indigo solutions and started his own venture. But he still finds time to meet me, mostly over the weekends.

I know he likes me very much, but is it love I cannot be sure. I think it is. Why? He is 24, had no girlfriends and he jovially called our first movie trip as his first date. He enjoys my company and shares everything with me. You can argue that all this is nothing more than friendship from his side, but you will not if you see the way he sometimes looks at me. I can feel that he is longing to hold me and give me a hug but something is stopping him. I don’t know what it is, but there is something, some barrier. Yesterday for the first time we walked hand in hand.

Trriiing. Trrrriing.

“I just reached. You ready?”

“Yup! Will be with you in 5 minutes”

I quickly check myself in the mirror. He likes my hair down, hair ok. No lipstick. No makeup. No nail polish. A thin gold chain. Pink Chudidar. Matching sandals, everything seems to be in order.

But I am forgetting something, I know I am. My eyes sweep the room. Of course, the photograph, I quickly put it in my bag and rush out. I don’t want him to think I am taking revenge by making him wait.

***

I find him standing under the yellow haze of the lamp post opposite my apartment with his back towards me. 5’ 6’’, mediocre, short hair and dressed in Jeans and t-shirt as always. He keeps his hair short because he says it curls up if he lets it grow.

He is staring at something at the other end of the street, completely oblivious to my presence. I start walking making more noise, but the ploy fails to distract him from whatever he is looking at. I stop; two more steps and I will bump right into him.

“What are you looking at?”

He turns with a start, smiling

“Hey! Didn’t hear you coming”

“Next time I will wear a bell around my neck, Ok?”

“Sure, next time I see a buffalo I will steal one for you”

I laugh and hit him playfully with my bag. “What were you looking at anyway?” I ask again.

“My first love”

I strain my eyes to find it. A White Honda Civic is parked a few meters away. It is his dream car and he never stops speaking about it. I am not that much into cars but after hearing him rattle about the Civic, I started liking it too.

“Shall we go?” his voice is quivering with excitement. He is suppressing it with great difficulty and trying to sound casual. Perhaps he won a race with a BMW on his way here. He takes great pleasure in what he calls ‘little achievements in life’.

I nod and he takes my hand and starts leading me away from my apartment.

“Where is your bike?” I ask looking around.

It is nowhere to be seen. He usually parks it under the tree in front of my apartment.

“Still at Exotic”

“Why did you leave it there? I told you I am giving my Activa for servicing today” I exclaim, feeling a little disappointed.

I love riding with him but now we must catch a bus.

Still smiling, he simply shrugs.

“You came all the way here in a bus?”

His house is just 20 minutes from Forum, mine is an hour away and in the other direction. He knows I can take care of myself. It makes sense for him to come on a bike to pick me but absolutely no sense to come all the way in a bus!

“Any idea who is the owner of this car?” he asks ignoring all my questions and stopping beside the front passenger door of the Civic.

“Ya, my boyfriend’s! Really Vikram, how the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Are you sure?” he asks taking out a set of keys.

A dazzling ‘H’ catches my eye.

They are not his bike keys which have a TVS keychain. These have a Honda keychain. A Honda keychain!

He presses a button, the car beeps and flashes.

“What? Where did you get it from?”

He takes my hand, gently guides me inside and closes the door. I look around.

“A brand new car! But how is it possible? Who would have lent him a brand new car? Did he rent the car?”

He gets in behind the wheel. No he couldn’t have rent the car. All rented cars are chauffeur driven.

“Surprise!” he says looking at me. “So how does it feel?”

“Whose car?” I ask.

Thanks to Sherlock Holmes I already know the answer.

When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth.

He has no relatives in Bangalore who own a Civic, it is not a rented car and it is brand new. It is his dream car. There is only one highly improbable explanation.

“Ours… I mean I bought it today”

“How? Did you win a lottery?”

He laughs.

"Well, we made deals with a few major two-wheeler companies and they went on quite smoothly. So I went and bought a Civic” he says casually as if he bought a pani puri.

“But you started your business only 4 months back and a Civic must have cost you a fortune!” I exclaim.

“It was tough, but I was determined to buy this car and have even more pressing reasons to succeed, I worked hard and it paid off” he says.

“Even more pressing reasons” I say questioningly

Without speaking, he turns away and closes his eyes.

What is he thinking? I will give anything to know what is going on in his mind right now!

“I want to ask you something which I could not while working in Indigo” he says looking at me. There is that look again, full of love. I am sure you will agree with me if I take a picture and post it to you.

“Nisha, will you marry me?”

I am about to cry. I don’t want to. I am not going to show any emotion. If he can be so casual about this, even I will be. But my nose betrays me.

It turned red, brick red. It always does when I am close to crying.

“Why couldn’t you ask me earlier?” I ask.

“I was not earning enough to take good care of you and I hate taking Dad’s help”

So this was the barrier which made him maintain his distance with me, I am so touched.

“Nish, I will not force you to take a decision immediately, but I do want to know what you are thinking” he says.

“Is he crazy? Didn’t he realize I fell in love with him within a week after we met?”

“I will tell you, on one condition. Come out first”

I am not going to make it so easy for him. I open the door, step out of the car and start walking towards him. He gets out a little slowly with a puzzled expression.

We are standing facing each other. He is just two inches taller than me. I lean forward and whisper,

“Kiss me and give me a hug. I want to cherish this moment forever”

Words are failing him. He is opening and closing his mouth.

“Nisha! Here!?” he exclaims looking around. The street is pretty deserted.

“Yes here, right now”

“You are impossible! Please not here. What if anyone sees us?” he asks, smiling and shaking his head.

I look at him stubbornly. I don’t care. This is the guy I am getting married to.

He kisses me on my forehead and then hugs me tightly. I burst out crying.

It feels so good.

“Didn’t you realize I fell in love with you days after we met?”

“I was not sure” he says wiping my eyes.

***

We are zipping through Bangalore in the Civic and just crossed the Nice road. Our target is a McD about 80Km from Bangalore on the Bangalore-Mysore State Highway.

After ten minutes of emotional outburst, we finally decided to celebrate and go out on a long drive instead of Forum.

“Vikram, I know you are not all that romantic, but proposing inside a car. Heights of unromanticness”

“Not just any car, I proposed you in our new Honda Civic! Isn’t that romantic?”

“Ya right! You can’t even give me a proper hug in here!”

“Well actually I only planned to surprise you with the car today. I am myself surprised that I proposed. There sure is some magic in you”

“Or between us”

We smile at each other. It starts drizzling. Yes there is magic between us.

***

“Ok here is Chennapatna, we are just 15 minutes away. Wow 55Km in forty-five minutes. That averages to 70kmph” he says

“What! You mean you even crossed 70?” I ask peering over to look at the digital speedometer. It is reading 81.6Kmph.

Oh My God! I get scared when my brother crosses 60 in our Fiat, but now I did not even realize we are touching 80. I am casually chit-chatting with Vikram.

“Doesn’t even feel like it right? You won’t believe me, but when you were busy telling how unromantic a guy I am, we were touching 100”

“Oh My God. It is so damn smooth.”

“Yup! After all, this is my dream car. Its top speed is 206kmph and can sprint from 0 to 60kmph in slightly less than 5 seconds” he says, his voice full of pride.

“How much does it cost?” I have no idea about the cost. Vikram always talked about its sporty and sleek look, its powerful hum and all but never mentioned the price.

“A little over 15 Lakhs including insurance and all”

“What?” 15 Lakhs! I am feeling woozy. My monthly income is Rs30000 including Rs7000 pocket money Dad gives me every month. Even if I save every paisa, which is impossible, it will take me about 4 years to buy this car. On the practical side it will take me 40 years.

“Aha there is the McD sign. Thank God I was beginning to feel we missed it” A large red ‘M’ zooms past us. All that the sign said was McD straight ahead.

A Corolla overtakes us. The gentle purr of the Civic changed to a throaty roar. I glanced at the speedometer. It is ticking 83… 84… 90… 95.

The corolla is slowly closing in and just as we are about to overtake it, it accelerates. Its driver, like me, understood that Vikram is racing. 96… 97… 98… 99… 100… 101. That’s it!

“Vikram, slow down and let him go” I whisper. I don’t want to shout and scare him at this high a speed. 101… 95…. 90… 80… 70.

“Actually I was a bit scared myself but it felt good. I need to get more comfortable in handling this car and I am not supposed to go this fast initially. Ah here it is”

I look out through the windshield. The McD is inside a big and spacious petrol pump. With the help of directions, we find the parking lot and Vikram parked the car between a Volkswagen and a BMW. As we walk towards the restaurant, Vikram turns back.

“Which car looks more stylish?”

The Volkswagen is good and so is the BMW. But the Civic certainly has the sleek look Vikram often spoke about.

“The BMW” I say

“No way”

***

“I never even imagined I would fall in love with that boy” I say pointing to the class idiot.

Vikram burst out laughing finally getting distracted from being so conscious about the cleanliness of the car.

The McD, 80Km from Bangalore and 40Km from Mysore, was crowded. Bangalore is full of crazy people.

So, much to his dismay, we decided to have dinner in the car.

We have paper napkins spread all over! He even balanced two on the steering!

“Hey I don’t have this pic. What the hell am I looking at and why is my shirt half tucked?”

“I should be asking you that”

“Honestly I have no clue, maybe I won a fight with someone and I am staring at him, victorious”

“That is what I guessed. But why don’t you have this photo?”

“Ah that I remember. I didn’t want to waste Rs15 on this. I guess I bought some chocolates with the money Mom gave me for the photograph. Ah here you are, neat and tidy as usual. You look cute. Wonder why I never noticed you then”

“Come on Vikram, we were about twelve-years-old then!”

We completed our dinner over recollecting our days at Jubilee Hills Public School. We spoke about the assembly, the boring prayer, how we used to get punished for not cutting nails or not polishing shoes, how most of us escaped by blaming the overcrowded school bus, about how the school used to organize the sports day, the annual day, teacher’s day and the children’s day. I started feeling very nostalgic. Those days are gone forever.

***

“Your parents must be proud of you. You are doing so well in such a short time” I ask on our way back.

“Yup they are. But they still don’t know how well”

“What do you mean?”

Vikram is the sort of a person who does things secretly. But he must have told his parents that he is doing well enough to buy a luxury car.

“I told them I am able to make both ends meet” he says with a smile.

“Are you telling me that they have no clue whatsoever that you bought a Civic?”

This is heights.

“No clue whatsoever. You and I are the only keepers of this little secret. Of course, my friends will get to know pretty soon”

“But why?”

“Well actually, Mom and Sister want Dad to buy a new car. Our Maruthi-800 is really old but Dad does not want to invest in a depreciating asset though we can easily afford a Swift or even a Honda City. So I decided I am going to drive into the house and surprise everyone”

“You are planning to drive all the way to Hyderabad?” I ask feeling excited. I could join him. It would be so much fun.

“Actually I was hoping we could go”

I glance at the speedometer. We are touching 80Kmph, too risky to kiss him now.

“What makes you think you can talk me into such a crazy idea?”

“Come on Nish, I know you will love it. It will be so much fun.”

I burst out laughing. Our ideas of fun do match.

***

“This is it, no point waiting any longer” I tell myself. Preethi and Sweetha must be waiting for me.

Sindbad the sailor from Rock on ended and Tum Se hein from Jab We Met started the moment we stopped in front of my apartment. It was 10.45PM, pretty late but I remained seated. I love this song, but more than the song, I wanted to give Vikram time to think about how to tell me goodbye. I wanted himto realize that it would be nice if he kisses me and this time not on my forehead. But, Tum Se Hein ended and he did not budge.

The unromantic class idiot is still humming the song, long after it faded away.

“Ok Vikram I got to go now. It’s already late” I say and put my hand on the door to open it.

“Hey wait” he says, I freeze.

He steps out, comes over to my side, opens the door, takes my hand and gently guides me out of the car.

“See how romantic I am” he says still holding my hand.

“Should I laugh or should I cry?” I ask myself

I am hoping he will kiss me but he simply pulls me out of the car and says he is romantic!

“I never thought pulling a girl out of the car is romantic” I say, laughing and moving a little closer to him.

He takes me in his arms and kisses me on my forehead.

Ok I give up.

“I got to go now Vikram. Even you have to get going, it is already eleven” I say, gently releasing myself.

“Oh I almost forgot” He says and pops his head back in the car and pulls out his bag. Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, he pulls out a spiral binded book.

“Exotic Entrepreneur Engineer by Vikram Gulgatia”

He wrote a book!

“Vikram, how do you get time to do so many things?” I ask, shocked for the third time this night.

“I want to encourage people to get out of the secure IT industry. There is a lot of talent hidden in there and India needs it to be used in a better way. Just thought this might be a good idea to spread the word. Just read through, if you think it’s useless, throw it away”

“Don’t be crazy. I think this is really a good idea. If I find it boring, I will help you edit it, Ok?”

“Wow Thanks Nish! One advantage in marrying an editor!” he says with a smile.

There is that look again. He came closer to me. I know what is going to happen and close my eyes. His lips touch mine and we kiss.

The red taillights are getting smaller and smaller. I so much want him to come back and take me with him but I know it is not possible.

I stealthily unlock my apartment door. All the lights are off. Swetha and Preethi must be sleeping. I secure the door and tip-toe to my room. The bedside clock is showing 11.00PM. I put the book on my reading table and quickly change into my night dress. I wear the white Hercules t-shirt which Vikram, a stranger then, helped me win. I pick up the book and lay down on my bed. I am too excited to sleep anyway.

I open the first page.

Chapter 1

(NOTE: Minor Editing Still Pending)



“Imagine a profit of Rs4000+ a month! You are being stupid not investing in shares”, says Rahul.
Investing in shares never did and never will attract me. I hate letting other people decide my fate. Investing in shares is like handing over the reins of my life to some stranger; one wrong decision by some CEO and I might be doomed.
But now, I feel a knot in my stomach. Four thousand rupees! That’s about one-fourth of my salary. The thought of earning additional four thousand a month is lucrative.
“No yaar, not shares.” I say, trying to be confident but feeling a little uncertain.
“Why?”
“Nothing in specific but there are lots of small reasons which all add up and pull me away”.
“Reasons like?”
I never thought much about this. It is more of an intuitive feeling.
“I don’t know. But let me ask you something, are you sure you can repeat your success next month by carrying out a similar exercise?”
Rahul falls silent, he is doing some thinking. I got him. Shares are so damn unpredictable.
I sip my coffee, it is no longer hot. It always happens with me. I start with hot Café Americano but by the time I take the last sip, it turns into Iced Americano.
“I don’t know. Well ok, I cannot be sure. But I might” he says slowly.
“So if you make a profit in one month, there is absolutely no guarantee that you can repeat it again. In fact there is an equal chance that you might even lose, right?”
“Well yes. But if I am careful and invest only the profit, I will not lose any of my money except perhaps the initial investment in the worst case”
“Then what is the point in carrying out this exercise if you make profits in, say, the first two months only to lose it subsequently?”
“Then what do you suggest? Do nothing, play safe and stay happy with our meager salary? Wake up dude. Almost everyone is making money this way”
“Hmm… I don’t know, but I would like to divert my efforts to start a business. In business, once you make your mark, it guarantees a constant source of income, well in most cases.”
“Oh really? Then from where will you get the investment to start a business?”
“Come on man, you are not attacking the problem properly. Investment is not the problem, IDEA is the problem. If you have an idea which will help the society, all you have to do is to convince the investors and believe me there are plenty of investors out there”
“So you have some ideas now?”
“Nothing solid, but let’s not digress. The argument is about why I am not interested in investing in shares and that’s because I want to divert my efforts towards starting a business and if I invest in shares I might get carried away”
“What is the not-so-solid idea anyway?”
“Well ok. See sometime back I had this idea of advertising. I pay restaurants, food courts, malls etc and ‘buy’ a small portion of their wall where I mount a TV. Then I contact companies to advertise, charging according to a tariff”
“Why would anyone want your help in putting up a TV? They could do it themselves” he quickly points out.
“I did say it is a feeble idea but I can reason it out. Firstly, the people who manage the places I am talking about have enough problems and would prefer a fixed monthly rent without any additional management overhead. Secondly, I can form a big network, co-ordinate it and widen the audience. This will attract more companies to advertise and also justify the tariff” I say
“Hmmm… sounds interesting. Did you make any enquiries or calculation on the feasibility and the profits?”
“Nope, laziness and office work are delaying me”
“So there is no way that you will invest in shares? I was hoping my initial success will encourage you to join me”
“I admit I am tempted, but no. Come on, we are engineers. We have the ability to do things much more interesting, exciting and rewarding. What say?”
“Well I don’t have anything like that right now and since I am quite successful, I will continue trading. Don’t feel jealous if I buy my Merc before you buy a Civic” he says with a grin.
“Of course not! I hope you buy one fast, can’t wait to drive”
“I will not let you drive”
“But I will”
We laugh. We often end up counting our chickens before they hatch.
“When is the party?” I ask suppressing a smile.
“Party?”
“Come on, your four-thousand-rupees profit party!”
“Acha, I take all the risks and tensions only to treat you? Get lost!”
“That’s the tradition. Don’t you remember Gowri? She used to slog during the exams, top the class and end up treating us”
We laugh. Those were the good times, the college days. No tensions, full masti even during exams.
On the normal days, we used to play LAN games day in and day out. But during exams, we used to feel guilty to play but also bored to study. Group study was the only solution. The first person in the group to get bored would shout ‘I hate this college. I hate this education system. I hate …’ One of the things he hates would start a debate. The topics ranged from ‘how good is our education system’ to ‘does God exist’. Our favorite topic was ‘Are we in the right place?’ Most of us were IIT aspirants and discontent with our private deemed university was ubiquitous. But I had no complaints. In fact, after two years of claustrophobic and torturous JEE preparation, the freedom of the hostel life felt like heaven.

I look around. The crowd in the cafeteria is thinning out. The clock is showing 11.05AM. We were sitting in the cafeteria from 10:20. A forty-five minute tea break is going to give Rakesh, my Manager, a heart attack.
“Time to go” I say and get up unenthusiastically. Rahul stretches himself and with a painful look stands up, with equal reluctance.



***



Router crashes instead of giving error when user enters the date 43rd Feb.
In over a million lines of code, split across tens of thousands of files, my job is to isolate a few buggy lines or sometimes one buggy line or sometimes just one single buggy symbol. This is my life, my boring life. When I was tagged as “the debugger” in my college, I never imagined that I would be stuck at it for so long. At times, when I realize that I might be stuck up with a job like this for the rest of my life, I end up feeling like running away, keep running and never stop, like Forrest Gump.
But now, I am stuck to my seat and have a bug to squash.
I curse Hang Ho, a Chinese in the testing team for finding this bug. Why the hell will someone, intelligent enough to use a router, enter the date as 43rd Feb? I open the bug description and the answer stares at me. Instead of typing 4, I typed 43 and the router crashed. I look at the keyboard. This guy or perhaps a girl must be having real fat fingers to have achieved this feat. Curious, I search in the online Indigo Employee Directory and zoom in on the photo. Two small eyes of a sleepy, fat Chinese stare at me.
His podgy face confirms my guess. He must be having equally podgy fingers.
“Who is he?”
Oops! I dread this sarcastic voice, it always spells trouble. I turn around; Rakesh is looking curiously at the zoomed photo.
“Submitter of the bug” I answer.
“Maybe you could send a mail across on how to solve bugs by looking at submitters’ photos. I see everyone else struggling hard with the code”
Thankful that Hang Ho did not turn out to be a lady, I look around. Everyone is busy, even Vinodh, I can swear that he had orkut opened a while back.
“Any progress on this?” Rakesh asks.
The only progress I made today is to find out how Hang Ho typed 43 instead of 4. Sure that this cannot impress him, I started blabbing about my feeble progress in the last three days.
“Try to finish it by end of business today” he says and walks away.
Ridiculous! It is impossible to meet that target.
“Well better get prepared to face his wrath tomorrow” I tell myself.
“Didn’t you observe him in the back of you da?”
I turn around to face Vinodh my cubicle mate.
I was right; Rakesh is barely two cubicles away and already a tiny photograph on the left, an advertisement on the right, two monsters on the top, ‘Orkut’ and ‘Welcome, Vinodh’ replaced the boring code.
“I am not as good as you are in sensing the presence of unwanted agents in the vicinity, next time try and warn me”
Vinodh can actually sniff out Rakesh’s presence.
Initially I used to laugh at his English. But soon, I realized that he does not consider this as a handicap. He has the ability to confidently address any audience in his lousy English. This made me stop laughing and start admiring him.



***



After 8 hours of continuous work with just half an hour break for lunch at 2 and ten minutes for tea at 5, I am feeling exhausted. Debugging is like searching for a pin in a haystack. It would be so much easier to go and buy a new pin. But unfortunately, the cost of buying a pin works out to be much higher than to hire people who will look for the lost rusty pin. Yes rusty; with thousands of people fixing hundreds of bugs everyday, the code is in a mess, like an overused rusted pin.
.

I open Sametime, the Online Instant Messenger,

Vikram: Come let’s go. There is no way I can solve it today. Rakesh doesn’t understand any technical details and yet sets deadlines. Wonder who made him a manager.

Rahul has been pinging me for the last one hour. We started playing table tennis 3 months back and we are now TT addicts; leaving without playing will render our day incomplete.
No response. The large round bubble against his name is red, meaning he is away. But only 10 minutes back he said he is going to wait for me.
I call him up.
“Hello” he answers after two rings.
“Where are you?”
“In my cubicle, waiting for you”
“Idiot! Why didn’t you reply? I wasted a rupee calling you”
“Reply to what?”
“I just sent you an Instant Mess… Oh my God”
I stare at the screen. My mind goes blank. This is not possible. This is the end of my career in Indigo Solutions.
I sent the message to Rakesh instead of Rahul.
“I didn’t receive any Instant Message” my cell phone squeals.
I throw it aside, run to Rakesh’s cabin and look through the glass door. No bag on the table, he left for the day. He will be oblivious to this message until he logs in tomorrow. Once he reads the message, I will be fired; there is no doubt in it. I want to quit Indigo, not fired!
I slowly walk back to my cubicle thanking God for small favors. I am an optimist. A pessimist would be cursing the world now, but I know the situation could have been a lot worse like what if Rakesh is still working; highly improbable considering the fact that he runs home the instant the clock strikes 6.30PM but not impossible.
Rahul is waiting for me beside my cubicle.
“Kya bey, what happened? I called you about 10 times. Hey, you look so worried. Why are you sweating?”
I look around, some cubicles are still occupied.
“Come to the cafeteria. Emergency” I say, tension evident in my voice. Rahul started following me without another word.

“I just screwed up my career” I say, choosing a table in the remotest corner of the huge cafeteria.
“What?”
“I sent an IM to Rakesh instead of you!” I blurt out.
“Rakesh? Your manager right?”
“Yes”
“What did you send?”
“I wanted to take out my frustration. So I typed in a message saying that he does not know anything and it is a wonder that he is a manager now. I IM’ed it to him instead of you”
“Jesus Christ! You sent him that?” asks Rahul horrified.
“Yes! As usual he already left for the day. But he is sure to see the message first thing he logs in tomorrow. We don’t get along well and now this. I am dead!”
Rahul falls silent.
“There is one way out” he says slowly.
“Please, anything to get myself out of this mess”
“Turn off his computer”
I stare at him. Turning off his computer sure would erase my accolade without a trace. But for that, I need to go into his lair.
“Are you crazy? You want me to go inside his cabin and turn off his machine! If someone sees me in his cabin now, I am dead.”
We, the lowly software engineers are given cubicles and Managers are given cabins.
“You are dead anyway” he replies shrugging.
That’s right. But turning off his computer? Something does not sound right.
“What if he is running any scripts? They will all get terminated”
“Jesus Christ Vikram. You are sure to get fired if he reads the message and you are worried about some stupid script he might be running?”
“Just thinking if there is some other, more benign, way out”
“Yes there is. Let’s go and kill him tonight” he says changing the very definition of benign.
I smile, for the first time in the last fifteen minutes.
“Ok I will do it” I say feeling a little hopeful.
“Good. We need to do it tonight. It is 8.30PM and the office will be deserted. I will keep watch outside the room”
Oh no!
“What if the room is locked?” I asked, suddenly remembering the golden keyhole present in every door.
“Don’t worry the cabins are never locked. They lock up anything important in their lockers. So all you need to do is go inside and switch off the system. I suggest you plug out the power cord just to be sure”
“Ok” I say, too willing to leave all the thinking to him.
“Can we find someone else to help us? Two levels of watch will be much better because no one should see you going in or coming out”
“Vinodh!” I exclaim. “He can sniff out dangers like this” I say clicking my fingers.
“Is he still around?”
I call him up, no answer, calling him again, still no answer.
“That’s ok. We will manage” says Rahul as I am calling him up for the third time. He answers on the fourth ring.
“Hello Vikram” he whispers.
“Hey Vinodh, emergency. Where are you?” I whisper back.
“Why the hell is he whispering and why the hell am I whispering back?” I ask myself.
“I… I… am going to shit da”
“Can you go after 5 minutes?” I ask, desperate.
“Uh…no… I already in middle of it da”
Middle of what! Oh I understood.
“How much longer will you be there?”
“Oh God! What am I asking?”
“Uh… five minutes” he replies sounding puzzled and annoyed.
“Ok come to the cafeteria as soon as you can”
“Ok da” comes back the reply and he hangs up immediately. I am too tensed to feel guilty for disturbing him in midst of such an important activity.
“He will be with us in five minutes. Oh God, I just hope it works” I pray.
I am agnostic. Dad always says mental tension increases our faith in God; he is right.
Why don’t you and Rakesh get along anyway?” Rahul asks.
“Well, in one of the team meeting, he proposed his idea of restructuring the entire code to make it modular. I opposed saying that it is an impossible task considering the size of the code base and the fact that almost everyone who wrote it left ages ago. I suggested it would be better to design from scratch”
“Designing from scratch? Come on that would be one hell of a job” interrupts Rahul.
“Believe me not more than restructuring a million lines of muddled up code. Anyway, he took an analogy and asked me whether I would prefer to renovate or destroy and construct to redesign an old house. I told him it depends on the extent to which I want to redesign the house and the availability of blue prints”
“Well he ignored me and suggested his idea to the big guys who sit on his head. They rejected saying that designing from scratch is the only option for which we do not have enough resources now. Guess it hurt his ego and he has been giving me a tough time since then”
“What da, why are you calling so urgently?” asks Vinodh joining us, looking very irritated.
I apologize and explain him the situation and the plan.
“What da, such carelessness from you I did not think” he says, his eyes as big as saucer plates.
“I know. Please, will you help me?” I want him to help me, not admonish me.
“Ok, I will be standing in the corridor and calling Rahul if someone is entering inside. Correct?” he asks.
“Correct” says Rahul getting up.



***



On our way to ground zero, we started fine tuning the plan. Vinodh will stand outside in the corridor and give Rahul a call if anyone walks in. This is critical since Rakesh’s cabin door is right opposite to the entrance to the office area. Rahul will stand in front of the glass door monitoring the surroundings. He will raise his hand if anyone is close by or if he gets a warning from Vinodh and will put it down when it is safe for me to walk out.
Leaving Vinodh out in the corridor, we casually walk in. The office is sparsely populated. Only Gautham, one of my teammate, is still hard at work. We casually stroll down towards Rakesh’s cabin and stop in front of the door. I look around, nobody is watching us. With Rahul shielding me, I put my hand on the cold metal knob and turn expecting it to be locked. But Rahul was right, it turns without resistance and the door opens. I am saved. Heaving a sigh relief I walk towards the lone computer which is humming to itself. I was about to crawl under the table to pull out the power cord when curiosity grips me. I want to have one last look at my message, in Rakesh’s computer. I royally sit on his chair, switch on his monitor and press Ctrl+Alt+Del.
Shit! I don’t know his password and I have wasted precious minutes which could jeopardize the mission. Cursing, I switch off the monitor and crawl under the table. Tracing the power cord I pull it out. The CPU fans stop and the machine falls silent. I count 5 to make sure that every bit in the RAM is erased and then plug in the power cord. I started bolting towards the door; I freeze half way. Rahul has his hand up, but I cannot see anyone in the vicinity.
“Shall I run out an be done with it?” I ask myself.
I crawl back under the table forcing myself to stick to the plan. Sneha walks in and turns towards her cabin. She goes out of sight and Rahul puts down his hand. I rush out and give a thumbs-up.
I did it. We did it. We quickly walk away from the place of crime.
I entered Rakesh’s lair and sabotaged his computer! This is my best day in Indigo!
We exit the office area and burst out laughing.
Vinodh joins us and we could not stop laughing for the next 5 minutes.

“Dinner is on me guys, you pick the restaurant” I say at last.
“Ice cream on me, I am very happy today. I wanted to something crazy for a very long time” says Rahul. We both turn towards Vinodh.
“I will be needing to go to the toilet now because it stopped midway, only 5 minutes” he says and scurries away. We burst out laughing again.