As he knotted his sunset yellow silk tie into a neat upturned triangle, he muttered to himself, "Perfect!"

Perfect was how he liked things. From his crisp Italian cotton shirt and shining shoes to his clockwork schedule, everything was simply spot on. His card read, "Saurav Kumar, Senior Analyst, Synthetic Equities, Affaires Internationales Bank".

He dabbed the final bit of Chanel No 5 on his wrists. It felt good, he felt good. Right at that moment, he was a man completely in love with himself.

There were of course people who were incapable of understanding such finesse. A prime example was the low life that was lying on a bed in the adjoining room with his ass pointing at the ceiling.

Bagchi, he was called.

Saurav had no idea why anyone would pay Bagchi for anything. For starters, he never saw him awake; all he ever saw was Bagchi's ass pointing at the ceiling. He was almost always late on his bills and Saurav was prepared to swear that Bagchi had never touched the washing machine. Everything about him reeked of Old Monk Rum, which apparently was the only thing that Bagchi ever drank. No wonder why the ceiling was pretty much what Bagchi's ass ever got to see.

Not that Saurav wanted to see him awake anyway. On a rare morning that Bagchi had a bit of trouble with his digestion, he caught Saurav in middle of his 'dabbing Chanel No 5 on his wrists' ritual.

"Why do you do that?", Bagchi shot a question as he sank into the living room couch, toothbrush in hand and mouth brimming with foam.

"Do what?” Saurav made little attempt to hide his irritation.

 "This", Bagchi replied nonchalantly, rubbing his wrists in imitation. A few tiny drops of white Colgate foam raced out landing dangerously close to Saurav.

Saurav paused in exasperation. Part of him just wanted to slap all the foam out of Bagchi. The rest of him wanted to see him lay bricks for the rest of his life.

"I haven't got time for that now, gotta rush", Saurav said as he walked out.

"Whatever works for you”, Bagchi called out as Saurav could feel the brimming foam spraying all over the living room.

2.

Just as he slipped his right foot into his shoe, pain shot through his big toe.

A chill ran down his spine.

He slowly brought his foot out and removed his sock, his nerves taut in anticipation. And there it was, an inch long nail sticking out of his big toe. 

Just like yesterday. He poked at it with a finger and discovered a small amount of pain.

Yesterday it was his left big toe where the inch long nail had appeared. He never missed trimming his nails every alternate night, so an inch nail one morning was shocking. He had dismissed it as an unimportant aberration.

But today, he was nothing short of alarmed, considering that he had double checked all 20 fingers last night.

Walking past Bagchi's room to get his nail trimmer, he could almost visualize Bagchi snigger, "Not so perfect now, eh?"

As the cab drove him to his office, Saurav considered his options.

Well, it was an abnormal nail each morning. No big deal, he told himself. Maybe it was some rare medical condition. It had to be.

The thought calmed him down. After a couple of deep breaths, a solution presented itself. He had to see a doctor about it, end of story.

Relaxed, he whipped out his smartphone.

"So, who do you see about a nail", he muttered to himself. 

He googled 'nails'. Along with a multitude of images of dotted nail art, he found a wiki page that said 'Nail (anatomy)' right at the top. It was an interesting page with details of parts of a nail, some geeky facts like 'nails contain 7-12% water' and a usual host of information.

Eventually he found what he needed in the 'Health and care' section which said 'Nail disease can be very subtle and should be evaluated by a dermatologist...'. His disease wasn't exactly subtle but he decided that it had to be a dermatologist after all.

After the initial flurry of morning activity, armed with a cup of steaming bad coffee, Saurav Kumar settled down to decide on a dermatologist for himself.

He went to Justdial to look for dermatologists near M G Road. Right at the top was Dr. Shetty's Medical and blah blah blah, which looked suspiciously like a sponsored ad. A quick google search confirmed his suspicion. Dr. Shetty had a 1.7 rating on google plus.

Next up was 'Kaya Skin Clinic' at Prestige Meridian building. 2.8 stars, familiar name. Could have been better but what the hell. He copied the number and the address.

He was lucky. Right after lunch, he managed to sneak out for a couple of hours for a discreet visit to Kaya Skin Clinic.



3.

The Prestige Meridian building was barely five hundred meters from his office. He decided to walk.
Saurav enjoyed walking, but on a busy stretch of road with ever honking traffic and 'pee-ed on' sidewalks, it wasn't much fun. At least Bangalore was cloudy this time of the year and it was kind of cool.

As he walked along the 'pee-ed on' sidewalks, he evaluated the gravity of this niggle in his otherwise perfect life. The cool breeze brightened him up. "It's a toenail", he told himself. "And I am going to fix this right away".

Reaching the Meridian building, he scanned around, looking for the skin clinic. He was not sure what he was looking for. Despite his affinity for perfection, he wasn't exactly the pedicure manicure type.
A security guard gave him quizzical looks. He walked up to him.
"Kaya Skin Clinic", he said out aloud. He suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if he was asking for a gay bar.

"Skin Clinic?"
"Right. Kaya Skin Clinic". 

"Where is this Skin Clinic", the guy proceeded to ask his apparent superior, who made a lazy gesture towards the right of the building.
Taking his cue, Saurav proceeded. All of the sunset yellow silk tie, crisp black shirt and 'not so shining anymore' shoes, thanks to the walking he had been doing on the pee-ed on sidewalks.

He found the entrance all right. A glass door with the picture of a woman with glowing skin that said "Kaya Skin Clinic".
Once inside, he paused for a second to look around. Water bubbled out of a small fountain in a corner. Much of the walls had been converted into shelves which were sparsely arranged with what looked like lotion bottles in numerous shapes and sizes. Rest of the walls had photographs of seemingly topless women who had either crossed their arms over their chests or did not have their chest in the shot. Despite the lack of clothes, the photographs looked weirdly demure. All the women, Saurav wondered, had expressions that seemed weirdly connected somehow.

Two north eastern girls in pink flowery Chinese tops completed the rest of the tiny reception area. He was apparently the only person whose skin needed care at the moment.
"Hello sir, may I help you?" The prettier of the two asked him.

"Hi, I am Saurav", he said, wondering why he felt the need to say that.
The girl arched her eyebrows in an quizzical expression of such absolute doll like cuteness that only oriental features can render.

"I need to see a doctor, I have some issues with a toe nail."
The girl handed him a medical form. The form was the usual medical template requiring him to fill out his name, contact details, diseases, allergies and such stuff. Saurav wondered why such information was not standardized, digitized and shared at the flick of a computer mouse. A neat idea for a startup, he told himself.

"Please have a seat sir", she said as he handed her the filled out form, pointing to the lone couch beside what seemed like a magazine stand full of Harper's Bazaars.

Some fifteen minutes later, during which she entered the data on his form into a computer at a painfully slow speed, she announced, "Sir, the doctor will see you now".
Saurav looked up from the Femina he was glancing at. Somehow, he felt a tad nervous. He proceeded to the door marked 'Dr. Suman Awasthi'.


4.

Thankfully for him, the doctor's chambers did not have the same 'beauty parlour' look as rest of the establishment. In the center of the room sat Dr. Awasthi, a slightly plump dark woman with a pockmarked face. Though Saurav felt sure that Dr. Awasthi must have had her face dug out before she had managed her 'skin' medical degree, he somehow could not rid himself of the feeling that she was not the best ambassador for a beauty skin clinic.

"How can I help you?", she smiled, gesturing at the chair in the room.
Saurav sank into the chair. "I have a problem with my toe...umm...toenail."
"Show it to me please", she demanded.

He removed his right shoe and sock. Dr. Awasthi made him move to the recliner and outstretch his leg so that they could together look at his toe.

"Does it hurt", she asked poking his toe with her index finger.
"A little", he truthfully replied.
"Your toe seems all right", she said after five minutes of careful examination. "Slight pain can happen due to a variety of reasons, including strain. I will suggest you take a painkiller and rest your toe." She proceeded to write a prescription.

Saurav realized that it had passed along all too fast. It was time to tell her his real problem. Unless he wanted to go home with a prescription of mild painkillers, that is.
"Well doc, the pain is not the issue."
"Oh! what is it then?"

Saurav went into powerpoint presentation mode. "You see that toenail right there? That wasn't there last night."
"Where was it?", she smiled, probably considering it as some attempt at humor.
Saurav was exasperated. "That inch long nail grew back overnight. It grew one fucking inch in one fucking night! That, dear doctor, is my problem. It is not the pain, it is not any strain, it is just that my toe nails grow one inch in one night. And there is no telling where it is going to happen. One day it is the left toe and the next day it is the right."
In his defence, he was stressed out.

Dr. Awasthi turned white as a sheet.
Exactly seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds later, Saurav Kumar, in a crisp black shirt, sunset yellow tie, in a single 'not so shining' shoe was seen shouting outside the door of Kaya Skin Clinic.
"You can't cure a toe nail and you claim to look after people's skins! Bloody quacks, cheating innocent people of their hard earned money. Watch your fucking ratings drop all over the internet, I am telling you. Saala, you mess with me! What is this, a joke? I come here with a real problem and you treat it like a joke? Who are you? Goddamn Clowns?"

The lady with the glowing skin on the door kept smiling at him.
The stunned security guys had slowly started to regain their senses. Even with his maddening anger, he could sense that he had probably gone too far. That infuriated him even more.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to look into a smiling Mr. Swarnabh Sahay.


5.

Mr. Sahay led Saurav by the shoulder. The security guy came up.

"Kya ho raha hai yahaan pe?"
(What's been happening here?)

Mr. Sahay took over. "Arey jaane do Sir. Garmi mein frustration ho gaya tha bhai ko".
(Let it go Sir. Bro got frustrated in the heat.)

Saurav wondered where the heat was. But that was Sahay's USP. He could get you out of tricky situations. And he could get you into even trickier situations.

Sahay had the hungriest eyes. Saurav had sometimes wondered why Sahay had the exact same hungry look while looking at say, a delicious pomfret, a hot girl or a tin can. The "hungry look" never left him. What did leave him sometimes was his smile. When he smiled, it was hard to tell if he was already crying or if he would start crying in a minute.

Right now, it was Sahay saving his ass. Saurav wondered if it was closure. Or if Sahay would now lead him into some bigger shit.

Back in Sahay's car, Saurav braced himself for some Q&A.
Sahay made the move, "What the fuck where you up to back there?"

An asymmetric monster toe nail was his spookiest ailment ever. Swarnabh Sahay was the weirdest man that he knew. Just fifty hours back, a nuclear holocaust was more probable.
But right at that moment, Saurav told him everything. Every tiny detail that had led him, Saurav Kumar, an otherwise perfectly rational and pragmatic person, to shouting at the door of a certain Kaya Skin Clinic, in a crowded shopping mall.

Sahay listened with interested hungry eyes. He asked a few questions of clarification and muttered a few words of much appreciated sympathy.
At the end of the tell-all, Sahay slowly asked, "So, what now?"

"I have no idea", Saurav replied. "After what just happened, it's not like I can go to a doctor anymore. I don't think I have a clue, Mr. Sahay".

As they stopped in the office parking lot, Sahay drew a card out of his wallet. Without a word, he slowly extended it to Saurav.
Saurav looked at the card.

Ritu Singh,
Bhakt Relationship Executive,

Bhaskarananda Ashram,
Jayanagar, Bangalore.



6.

"Get up!", Mrs. Bagchi screamed.
Bagchi missed Saurav. He hardly ever talked to him, and that was precisely the point. Life was peacefully good.
A few months back, Saurav had suddenly moved out of their apartment. Given their minimal interaction, he had no idea where or why Saurav had left. All he knew was that Saurav had been having some issues with his toenails.
When his mother found out that he had a spare room in his apartment, she decided to pay him a visit.

"In a minute Ma, please!", Bagchi screamed back. He knew it was a battle he had already lost.

Mrs. Bagchi wanted to visit an ashram that morning. It was his duty to drive her there, stay until she decided it was time to leave and then drive her back. The ashram days were the darkest in his otherwise contended life.

An hour later, in about as much time as it normally took Bagchi to brush his teeth, he was seated in his car, having taken a bath and eaten a plate full of breakfast. Mrs. Bagchi was fasting, it being an auspicious day and all. As he started his car, he was ordered to put the Gayatri Mantra on repeat.

The ashram was somewhere on the Nandi Durga Road. A snaky, pot hole ridden stretch that as a friend had remarked, clogged up even when the sky turned cloudy, let alone rained.
At the ashram, they were greeted by a rather short and stocky lady who introduced herself as Mrs. Ritagni Aggarwal. She was dressed in white and led them into a prayer hall which was sparsely done in white. Devotees sat cross legged on the floor in front of a two feet high stage on which several godmen were on display, all resplendent in white.

Out of habit, Bagchi scanned the devotee section for pretty females to gawk at. On certain lucky days, there were pretty women on stage that Bagchi could unapologetically ogle, pretending to listen to the discourse in rapt attention.

There was still hope for today, as the lead godman was yet to arrive. Swami Bhaskarananda, he was called. The chance, however slim, remained that he would arrive on scene with a pretty sidekick in tow.

They still had half an hour before lead Swami arrived. Bagchi wanted to scream why he had to wake up so early. Mrs. Bagchi however, was already swaying to the devotional music, her facing glowing with peace.

Five minutes later, Bagchi was already nodding off. Mrs. Bagchi cast an occasional look of acute disapproval.

Right on time, the music went louder, the devotees clapped and Swami Bhaskarananda entered the hall. Just as everyone settled down, Swamiji took to the microphone.

"Aur sab log theek hain?", he asked in a sing song, cheerful and effeminate voice.

The devotees replied over enthusiastically, "Ji swamiji".
The noise woke Bagchi up. He looked around, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
He froze.

Right next to Swami Bhaskarananda, resplendent in flowing hair and white attire, was Saurav Kumar, the guy who shared his apartment just a few months back!


7.

Bagchi stood stunned for a long time.
There was no way he could map this flowing hair babaji to the Chanel No. 5 rubbing Investment Banker that he knew.
And yet, there he was. There was no sign of the excitable, ill-tempered guy from the angelic smile that he wore.

Finally after the rice-dal-boiled veggies that they called lunch, Bagchi managed to catch up with Saurav.
"What in the name of the lord are you doing here?"
Luckily, there was none of the discomfort that Saurav usually had around Bagchi. If at all, he seemed far more confident.

"You want to know about it all?", he asked.
After Bagchi had conveyed his eagerness, he took a deep breath and started.

"Well, as you probably already know, it started with my toenails growing abnormally overnight. I am sure you understand the dilemma I went through before I finally made the decision to come here. And the turmoil I had to go through before I could actually open up about it to Sanjay."

"Who's Sanjay", Bagchi asked.
"Ohh, my mistake. You know him as Swami Bhaskarananda. That son of a bitch went to school with me, you see. Sanjay Gulati, he was called then. The lousiest ass you will ever find. Not unlike you, I must say. But smart, damn smart. It was he who managed to convince me of a spiritual career", he paused for a breath.

"What about your high flying investment banking career", Bagchi asked.
"They are more similar than you think", Saurav smiled.
"How come?"

"Well, what do I sell people as an investment banker? Dreams of money. Do I always deliver on those dreams? Not really. If the markets are good, people make good money and I take the credit. If the markets are bad, they lose and I blame it on the markets.
You see, that's exactly what I do in this profession. I sell people dreams of peace and happiness. If they become peaceful or happy, I take the credit. If they don't, I blame it on their stars and sell them some stones. Profit, either way. Add to that, no legal hassles.", he grinned.

"You realize what an explosive exposure you are setting up right here?", Bagchi winked.
Saurav laughed.
"That's exactly what I told Gulati the first time he told me all this. And you know what he told me?
He told me to go ahead and help him. You see, any exposure could only help me by bringing my followers closer".

"What?", Bagchi challenged.
"It's human nature you see. What if you made a really big bad investment? Now if you are really cool about it and tell everyone that you made an ass of yourself, you are just not insecure enough to be in our devotee list anyway.

So what happens if you are in our devotee list? You will use the last fiber in your being to defend your investment. If your spiritual guru is suddenly proven be a creepy pedophile, you realize how stupid that makes you look, don't you? So our devotees rally in unison and tell the world how everyone is out to malign their saintly swami. Gulati, I am telling ya, is obscenely smart."

"But how do you manage to start? Now do not tell me that you have a spiritual venture capital firm."
"Nah, not yet. But cool idea man!
As for your question, that works like the stock market as well. Why do people invest in startups? Because they get better ROI if the stock does well. This is exactly the case. You invest in a new swami, and you get access to the stage. After a while, you get to give mini discourses before the main act and when you are ready, you might even be bootstrapped into a spinoff. The guys you saw on the stage today, are all early investors."

Bagchi giggled in amazement at how complete it sounded.
"But what about your toe?", he asked.

"Ohh that! Well Gulati told me how he would kill for something like that. You see, godmen all over the country, right at this moment, are trying to find ways to conjure miracles. And here I have, inbuilt right into me, an abnormal nail. You realize what this means, don't you? All we really need to do now, is to tell our devotees that this nail is my way of soaking up the injustice in the world or some shit like that, it just works! Gulati is working on it.
That's exactly why I got access to the inner circle anyway. Otherwise, I just do not have the experience you see. But for this nail, I had little hope in a spiritual career.", Saurav smiled.

"Gotta go man, it's spiritual time", Saurav prepared to take leave.

"But where do you go from here?", Bagchi asked.
"Ahh! I have a big launch coming in six months.
Anguthananda is what I shall be called.........", he trailed off.


P.S. Inspired by real characters. Probably why the caricatures took precedence over the story at some point.

We are all fans of someone or something. There are a large number of things that I readily proclaim to be a fan of, just like everyone else I know. And without thinking twice.

So far so good. Until I read a post by a friend of mine where she demanded that Salman Khan should be unconditionally pardoned just because he is simply so handsome!

No, I did not flood her with "how ashamed she should be of herself" comments. To tell you the truth though, it was kind of hard not to. It isn't really about her anyway, it's about a specific culture that causes this. Welcome to the world of fans!

The  Merriam-Webster, the Oxford dictionary and other sources define it as a shortened version of the word 'fanatic'. Think of the word fanatic and you form a mental image of mullahs with chest length beards and Pandits with vermilion smeared foreheads running around with swords ready to kill everyone who does not agree with what they say. Well, think again, cause it's YOU!

Come to think of it, the Oxford definition is pretty apt.

As fans we agree to look beyond the mistakes that a public person makes. Now that defies rationale, does it not?

Hang on, we actually take it another step forward. The internet is full of people trying to defend the wrongs of a public person. If it's a person, he is certain to make mistakes.

Not convinced? I will give you an example.

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that Mr. Narendra Modi is a better candidate for the nation's Prime Minister's post than Mr. Rahul Gandhi by miles. Now that said, he still needs all the help he can get to become the Prime Minister.

So is he going around gathering all the support he can get from long standing supporters of the BJP's   ideology?  And perhaps trying to win new and good allies? No, he is doing exactly the opposite. Does he believe that he alone will lead the BJP to majority in the new parliament? Well, he better. Otherwise it just makes him look plain stupid, doesn't it?

Even if he believes that he alone would be able to do it, there is still no harm in not antagonizing a lot of people I believe. Maybe Mr. Nitish Kumar had some pretty unreasonable demands, but the way in which he was hounded out, seemed very brash. I am sorry, Mr. Modi.

Well try explaining that to Mr. Modi's fans. Or posting that somewhere. (Mr. Modi's fans will find you, no worries.)

They will flame you to death. They will compare Mr. Modi to Rambo, saving twelve thousand people in a matter of a couple of days. They will upload Youtube videos with captions like "Narendra Modi's tight slap to ...........". And for anyone who tries to make a watertight argument on something that Mr. Modi did not do right, they will question his right to criticize someone whom he cannot match up to in achievements. That's an absurd argument. Criticism is the only right that I practically have anyway, hindered occasionally when Mr. Kapil Sibal decides to intervene.

But I miss the point. It's not about argument. Fans are not interested in argument or rationale. They would not be called fans then.

Not the political types? More examples.

The Dark Knight Rises was simply not as good as the second part of the Batman trilogy, "The Dark Kinght". And that's immaterial anyway. If I do not like a movie, I have the complete right to say that I do not recommend the movie. Apparently, that's not what the 'fans' thought. 

In fact, a pretty otherwise rational friend of mine, who happens to be a Sachin Tendulkar fan would scream himself hoarse if we said something critical of the little master. And that was when he was perfectly aware that the ONLY reason why we criticized Sachin around him was because we enjoyed watching himself scream himself to throat ache!

So starting today, I admire much of the world, some of it an obscene amount. But I am not a fan of anything, thank you. It's just that I value my rationality a little too much.

Sheldon (USA) - You must stop building nuclear weapons.
Iran - I am not building nuclear weapons.
Sheldon - I do not trust you.

Sheldon - You must let me inspect your apartment.
Iran - Why would I do that?
Sheldon - Because the security council told you so.

(Turning to Leonard(EU), Howard(Israel) and Raj (South Asia)) - Tell him.

Leonard - Leave the guy alone.
Sheldon - Do it or I will tell everyone about ur goof-ups with Penny, Bernadette and Lucy. TELL HIM!

Leonard, Howard and Raj (in unison) - Please let Sheldon inspect your apartment.

Iran - I do not even have nukes. You have nukes.
Sheldon - My nukes are good. Yours are for terrorism.
Iran - I never ever attacked anybody. The same cannot be said of you.

Sheldon - Doesn't make a difference.
Iran - Why is that?
Sheldon - Because I said so. I am brilliant.
Iran - How is that even relevant?

Sheldon (exasperated) - I will impose sanctions on you.
Iran - Hello, I do not trade with you, what will you sanction?

Sheldon (Turning to Leonard, Howard and Raj ) - Tell him you will impose sanctions on him.
Leonard, Howard and Raj (in unison) - Not again!

Sheldon - Well gentlemen, you had your chance....
Leonard, Howard and Raj (in unison, cutting him off) - We will impose sanctions on you.

Raj - Come on Sheldon, now let the guy go!

Sheldon - One last thing.
Iran - What??
Sheldon - You really should bring in democracy.

Iran - Really? The last time I had democracy, you were the one who destroyed it.
Sheldon - Well, I must tell you that it was for your own good.....

• Try to request people to participate in at least one of your surveys every year (maybe twice). Do not forget to post a reminder (or two) saying how desperately you need it.

• Try to post at least one album full of pictures where everyone in sight is wearing a business suit; no problems if it's June.

• Try to give us some expert comments every time our Government is on the verge of making a much publicized policy decision. e.g. FDI, Nuclear deal. Preferably align with whatever the US/Europe happens to be pushing at the time; not that you will ever feel the need to do otherwise. 

• Keep sending us some links to articles that happen to rank your alma mater favorably. If there happen to be no such lists (:P), try posting some which talk about some excellent initiatives that have been taken instead (hint: Dainik Jagran).

• And last, but not the least, as an MBA student, it's part of your social responsibility to keep educating half-literates like me. So keep posting fantastic tidbits of knowledge filled with MBA jargons that make me gasp in wonder. Accentuate the effect by having your classmates comment in equally incomprehensible literature.

P.S. I never did an MBA. Nor am I an aspirant.

Do not get me wrong. I have but the utmost respect for people learning so much more. Just because I dropped out half literate doesn't mean I cannot appreciate that.

And any intended offence caused is humbly apologized for.

One good thing about me switching jobs is that I eventually make a post out of it every time. Thus happened with IBM, Samsung and now Cisco. In retrospect, that is kind of expected. A quick jot of the reasons would look like this:

1. I get loads of time to kill. Wait. Loads is an understatement; its more like Mountains.

2. The Internet speed has improved from College to IBM to Samsung to Cisco.

3. More of alone time leads to more philosophy (not essentially better).

4. I kind of miss the old environment (read people I used to work with) and this point should have been clubbed with the previous one.

5. An entirely new set of females in and around the campus has the creative juices flowing. No pun intended here!

6. Every time I switch, I realize that despite the trillions of pages, there is only so much internet that you can browse.

The body of the post is not related to the title in any way, it's just that the title keeps rolling over and over in the back of my mind as I type.

To end, I would like to say that I find the updated blogger interface decent; this being my first time using it.

Finally, I would really really appreciate if anyone is kind enough to drop a comment, just to let me know that people do still visit my blog.

You are the same

And I haven't added fame (sadly)

The same is my mood

And I still cook my food (I wish)

The same stays my money

And no one calls me honey (still)

I still walk to work

And I still have no perk (Team lunch twice a year doesn't count)

My flat is the same

The same stays my name

There's still traffic on the way

And I'm still late every day

The same jokes people still crack

And HR's still say, "Let me call u back"

My Manager still sits at my rear,

And people tell me "HAPPY NEW YEAR"?????????????

[Consider reading this before you proceed]

Badam became very fond of movies in a very short time. So I decided to take him for Ra.One. As luck would have it, we reached early and Badam started asking me questions again.

Badam: What does Ra.One mean?

Me: It's a sci-fi movie. Ra.One is the name of a Robot.

Badam: So it means nothing. Finally a name that is just a name.

Me: Not really. It stands for random access one.

Badam: What is that? Are they connected somehow?

Me: Not even remotely. Dude, it's just a name.

[The crowd that had turned up was huge]

B: It seems to be a really good movie. So many people have come.

Me: You bet.

B: The acting must be amazing.

Me: Don't bet on that however. Heard SRK plays a Southie nerd who can neither manage the accent nor a believable nerd characterization.

B: Ohh, the story must be amazing then.

Me: Nay, the story doesn't make any sense.

B: Oh, I get it. It's sci-fi. The special effects must be great!

Me: I think everyone here has seen far better special effects; courtesy Hollywood.

B: Why are we here then?

Me: Dude! It's SRK! We have to prove he is bigger than Salman.

B: How come?

Me: You don't get it do you? Salman made a movie that didn't make any sense. It was a blockbuster. Now it's our turn to show them who the star is.

B: But it doesn't make sense either. Anyway, what are we going to gain?

Me: [exasperated]. You materialistic savage, not everything is about gain. There is something called loyalty. [I am furious by now].

B: [mumbling] I don't quite understand....

B: Okay, tell me what I am supposed to say at the end of the movie?

Me: How about this? "I enjoyed Ra.One. I don't know what people are complaining about. Anyway if Bodyguard can be a hit, so can Ra.One".

B: Did you read that on facebook?

That morning was weird. I always knew that. Even before I met him.

He was this half naked dude and he introduced himself as Badam. I asked him what that meant and the following conversation started:

Me: What does that mean?

Badam: Nothing. Why should it mean anything?

Me: Come on, a name's got to mean something after all.

Badam: What? A name is used so that I can understand when I am being called. What's your name?

Me: Mahul.

B: And it means something?

Me: Yep

B: What?

Me: It is a fruit.

B: So you are a fruit?

Me: That's not the point.

B: Then what is your point?

Me: I mean everybody has a name that means something.

B: I still don't get it. Give me another name.

Me: Okay. Let's say Nilesh.

B: That's also a name? What does that mean?

Me: It literally translates to "BLUE GOD".

B: You know someone named Nilesh?

Me: Yep, I do.

B: Is he blue?

Me: [frowing] No

B: Is he a God?

Me: Please. No.

B: Then why is he called blue God?

Me: Forget it. So why are you called Badam?

B: Because my grandpa was named Adam and he named my Dad Madam and he named me Badam.

Me: Was your grandpa out of his mind?

B: He kinda was you know. He ate the apple.

Me: You mean THE apple? In THE garden of paradise?

B: Yep.

Me: That's impossible. You can't possibly be here.

B: I know it is. The world is going crazy. There are brown people named blue god.

Me: Don't start that all over again. So how do you pronounce that?

B: Bad-um.

Me: That's better. Luckily it's not pronounced Bud-aam.

B: Why? What's wrong with Budaam?

Me: You know. It's the name of a nut.

B: So what's wrong with nuts? They are perfectly good to eat.

Me: You know. NUTS, NUTCASE and you can't say "My Nuts" cause that would mean something else altogether.

B: Why does nut mean all that? This is crazy and confusing.

Me: [Tired by now]. Has anybody ever mentioned that you ask too many questions, you dumb psycho savage? Get lost.

B: Don't get angry man. I'm just curious.

[The phone, a Galaxy S2 beeps. I bring it out]

B: Wow! What's that?

Me: That's a smartphone.

B: What's that?

[So I spend the next fifteen minutes explaining what a what a smartphone is.]

B: Awesome. Is that like the coolest device on the planet?

Me: No, I think not. It's the iPhone.

B: What does that do?

Me: Pretty much the same things.

B: Then why is this not the best?

Me: You know. Android and iOS. iOS is very easy to use.

B: How come?

Me: You can't do many things with it. But what you can do is right there in front of you.

B: So you can do more things with Android? Then that is better, right?

Me: No. Like I said, you have to be curious to find all that out.

B: I don't understand. People are not curious? Who uses this iPhone?

Me: Pretty much everyone in the developed countries. From homemakers to stock traders.

B: What do homemakers do?

Me: They cook and clean and maybe go shopping.

B: And?

Me: That's all. I mean things like that.

B: And they are still never curious?

Me: What's your point?

B: I don't know. What do stock traders do?

Me: They buy and sell stocks.

B: That sounds cool. So they negotiate and try to prove their products and do stuff like that? Man, I must tell you, my Dad made javelins and he was such a good trader that he could trade them for jungle hens.

Me: It's not like that. They don't negotiate.

B: How come?

Me: They just buy the stocks that they think are going to gain and sell the ones they think will lose.

B: And who decides if the stock will gain or lose?

Me: Traders decide that. When they buy more the price goes up and when they sell more it drops.

B: So what happens if all traders mess up together?

Me: I don't know. Recession maybe. Man, I'm not good with this stuff.

B: You guys are crazy.

Me: I gotta get out of here.

How do you sneeze? Yes, you heard me right. How do you sneeze?

Do you go all aa-aaa-AAA-SNEEEEZEEE!! or one of those "fich" sneezes that a person would miss if he happens to be opening a can of soda?

Why? Because my friend, it's important.

Now that reminds me of that Dabur Lal dant manjan ad where Sunil Shetty tells a beefed up guy (who cannot bite an apple) how teeth should not be neglected. Well, neither should the sneeze.

A sneeze is more than what you think it is. A sneeze is an extension of your personality. Think of the chick who sits 10 cubicles from you in office (and despite your extensive efforts, you haven't been able to get introduced to). She knows how you look, and she knows how you sneeze. If you are capable of sneezing loud enough, that is. Btw, if you are one of those guys who thinks that women do not go by looks, think again. How many good looking girls have you told that looks don't matter for you? You can do the math.

So what does a sneeze tell about you? Lots actually.

There are the lion heart sneezes that threaten the window panes and there are the sheepish weak "fich" ones that get you all irritated. There are indecisive "aa-aa-aa-chhi"'s that will take forever to come and there are the violent "HAN-CHHI" that speak of anger and frustration in the underlying souls. In short, there are as many types of sneezes as there are people.

Just as websites have digital signatures, human beings have sneeze signatures. You can copy the content of the website but you cannot copy the signature. Just as you can copy a human, thanks to modern cosmetic surgery, but you cannot copy his sneeze. You might ail or age or be sad or happy, but your sneeze will sound just the same.

Luckily, I happen to be blessed with a powerful sneeze. When I sneeze, one floor below and above know. When my Dad sneezes, two floors above and below know. When Grandpa would sneeze, half the village would know; I attribute the degradation in sneeze quality to the adulteration that has crept into human civilization over time.

So my friend, this rainy season, work on your sneeze. For you never know, you might get caught in a little drizzle and start sneezing. And you will never realize when you let out a sheep sneeze and lose the girl. You look cool, fine; you dress cool, great; it's time you sneezed cool.

As Grandpa would say, "A tiger fears you only as much as you fear it. Where it wins is strength and desperation". It's in moments like these than a tiger sneeze could turn the balance.

- Success.

- What is Success?

- Who is supposed to define what success is?

- Some hot-shots would say linkedin.com is a success.

- I would say linkedin is dumb.

- I am aware that linkedin is valued in billions of dollars.

- There was time when I was little and innocent and what I do today was success.

- There could be a time when what is success today will no longer be success.

- That is, if I get there.

- Does Bill Gates feel the need for more money?

- I am pretty sure the rest of the people on this planet do.

- Who is Successful?

- Is he delusional?

- How happy is he?

- What the heck will he do now??????????

There are three types of people in this world - Normal, Genius and Frustrated.

To illustrate further, I would like to give you an example.

Three people named Normal, Genius and Frustrated walk into a bar. There's a band playing a very catchy tune. None of them has ever played any musical instrument before, but they're all impressed with the music. All of them develop this desire to learn to play the guitar.

So far so good. The story was uniform. Not any longer.

- Normal toils hard to learn the guitar. Ten people say they do not want to teach him because he understands no music. Ten others refuse to teach him because he is not gifted enough. Normal doesn't give up and after what can be called a fair amount of time, he is able to play the tune decently well.

Normal invites his friends for a party and shows of his skills. His friends clap and Normal is happy. He goes off to sleep contented. End of story.

- Genius picks up a guitar. After some time alone with the guitar, he is able to understand how the thing is supposed to work. Some more time, and viola! Genius, is able to play the tune. But does Genius stop here?

No. Genius has a great inspiration and he creates a new tune that is kind of groundbreaking stuff. Next the story can go in two directions.

Rockstar Genius goes on stage somewhere and plays his tune. Instant fame and recognition. End of story.

Shy Genius hides his tune somewhere until a smoking blonde manages to dig it out. She coaxes him (:P) into playing it in public. Instant fame and recognition. End of story.

- Frustrated is kinda lazy so he takes a long long time before he actually picks up a guitar. During this time he is very frustrated because he is not picking up the guitar. When he finally does, some pretty teacher agrees to teach him. She is fairly impressed with him because he is able to learn it really fast. After what some people would call a small amount of time, he is able to play the tune.

Frustrated (like Normal) decides to invite his friends for a party where he wants to show off his skills. Another associated desire is to ask his Teacher out after the play (She is also invited). Frustrated plays and all his friends clap.

But this isn't Normal's story, so it gets complicated. Teacher tells him that he is really cute and talented, but she already has a boyfriend. Some *&#$@? friend tells him how the rendition was almost as good as the original. (Incidentally, he had mentioned this to Normal as well, but weirdly enough, he seemed fine with it).

All this is too much for Frustrated. He continues to go to sleep jittery and frustrated.

I rest my case. :)

P.S. Not to be taken seriously

To tell you the truth, I never intended to guide people in becoming entrepreneurs. Far from it. It just happens that three people pinged me on facebook to tell me that they thought my blog was good.

I believe in science. And I believe that science says that when you have the same observation thrice, it's about time for deduction. Which in this case has lead to an attempt to bring my dead blog back to life.

Before you start, to prevent you from getting any false ideas about me, I would like to clarify the following.

• I come from a family where they have never been any entrepreneurs/businessmen. In short, no one I am related to has ever made a "profit".

• My family does not believe in entrepreneurship. In short, everyone I am related to tries to explain why the whole idea of entrepreneurship is not a very smart one.

If you still want to learn from me, I would gladly feel sorry for you. Here goes the list of do's and don'ts.

• Don't start deciding the name first. We spent the first two months doing nothing except working on the name!! And what we finally agreed on (and have stuck to), in our college lingo means 'idiot'.

• If it's an internet/software startup, forget about getting a server. We wasted the next two months thinking about the advantages we would have with a dedicated server. When we finally worked on the disadvantages list, it turned out to be so long that today we host our website on a free webspace.

• If you haven't already, do not watch the movie "The Social Network". Not that it isn't an awesome movie, but they day my partner watched it (I recommended it to him), he started talking about how much each of us own and how we should always inform the other before every decision taken. *wink*

• This one is very important. Never, and I mean never ever announce a product before you have it completely ready. The following things could happen:

- Out of the blue your day job may start demanding hectic hours and you won't get any more time to work on the product.

- You may start getting bored with working on the same thing for a long time.

- You start getting the feeling that the product is useless. This is usually the most common.

• Well this one is a revelation. You have your website up and running which tries to tell people what you intend to do and how you intend to do it. Simple enough. You post the link somewhere (a little bragging never hurt anyone), and next thing you know is you start getting the following type of messages on Facebook -
  
  
  "Awesome work man! Btw what are we supposed to do on the site?"
  
  
  You are not supposed to do anything dumbo! All you are supposed to do is to look at it and tell us if you think it's good/bad.

• If you are a group of one/two/three etc people, you must understand that you can't be one/two/three for the rest of your life. So you need to bring in new people. How? Don't ask me, we are still two.

• This one is a secret. Odd jobs never hurt anyone. I suspect that all entrepreneurs have done some at some point. For example, I sometimes do assignments for grad students in US/Europe to keep my paypal account ticking. *wink*

• You always live in the morbid fear that you are getting accustomed to (and maybe even interested in) your day job. Trust me, it's not true. After spending an uncomfortable more than a year, I finally realized this. "All day jobs suck and have always sucked".

• Try not to tell everyone you know that you are the proud owner of a company without a product. I understand that at it's really difficult, but atleast try.

Well, I suppose that almost sums up my knowledge of becoming an entrepreneur. If you are a lonely reader who happened to wander to this dead blog, post a comment if you feel like.

On a bright sunny morning in April, 2010, a bus dropped us at Haldwani, Uttarakhand. We were en-route to Chowkori, a little hill station in Uttarakhand when my stomach declared trouble.

We neither had the time nor the intention to book a room or something, so armed with a paper-soap, I walked into a place called "HI-TEC toilet". Needless to say, after an overnight bus journey, I was under immense pressure.

After I had settled down, and everything had settled back to perspective (If you have ever faced a similar situation, you know what I mean), I noticed a tiny little piece of graphiti amidst all of the porno that is so characteristic to an Indian public toilet.

It said, "Maaza aaya??".

I so wanted to write "Yes" a thousand times over :-).

Does this happen to you too?

I was eating loads of street food, when someone commented that on the hygenic aspect of street food. In response I told everyone how I had a pretty robust digestive system ( Which I still maintain that I do), so that I could loads of everything and anything that I wanted. The next morning, everyone else is fine, while I keep shuttling between the room and the loo.

I tell someone how I efficiently wrap up my work on time, so much so that I never need to stay back late or go to work on weekends. All through that week, I do 11+ hours and also work from home over the weekend.

I tell my folks how popular I am in college (again I still maintain that I am still a recognized face in my campus, even though I am out of it now), and the next day they meet someone who has never heard of me before. The day I had told someone that I was good with mechanics, the graphics lab prof told me that teaching me graphics had been a complete waste of his and my time.

It's not a crime to brag once in a while, is it??

When the chips are down and the stakes are high,
When the match is tied and you bowl a bye.

When the bills are high and the cash is low,
When the Man-Hole was open and down you go.

When you get a dud after expecting a beauty,
When you see that idiot flaunting a cutie.

When a bird shits on you when you pass under a tree,
When you gotta go to office and the loo ain't free.

When you work on weekends while your friends go booze,
When you brush your teeth and you want to snooze.

When you sweat in office while your Manager has fun,
When you write a code and it does not run.

When the appraisals are out and your ratings are down,
When everyone seems smiling while you wear a frown.

When the Day is Valentine, and you haven't got a date,
When she rejected your proposal but the chocolates she ate.

When your present is boring and your future looks bleak,
When you are avoided coz you complain like a freak.

When the shoes are worn and the road is rough,
When you feel so squashed but the going feels tough.

When everyone you know would kick your bum,
Just hang on Buddy, for your time will come!! :-))

Ahemmm, ahemm, I'm blogging after...... lemme see.......3 months!!

Well, today's one of those rare lucky days, when I have nothing to do (that goes only for the next few minutes, touchwood) and I am still not worrying how I am supposed to show in my ILC(timesheet) what I was doing during this time.

For updates, the pretty gal who sits in front of me hasn't reported to work today(before you think I am that lucky, also consider that there are two wooden partitions in between, which incidentally are completely opaque ;)).
My Functional Manager is in Spain along with one Team Lead, the rest of the Team Leads are in a meeting, and one Lead who has just been back from Spain, has been offering Spanish chocolates to everyone around 30 seconds ago. Tell you what, there's nothing special about Spanish chocolates.

Well, so much for the Mr. X story. If you haven't read that, you might consider doing so here.

Well I am Mr. X now, except the beautiful Mrs X part, which I am sure you have already figured out. Being Mr. X, I wanted to add a little to the story.

• Mr. X never lets a single chance to trash his juniors pass by.

• Mr. X's manager and seniors; similarly never allow a single chance to trash Mr. X pass by.

• As far as the current Mr. X in question (read I) is concerned, I got no juniors

• Mr. X sometimes attends office parties where he feels like screaming his head off, let alone having fun.

• Mr. X meets no clients and delivers no presentations. Instead he tests codes that other people have written (usually) and occasionally gets to write a few lines of code and modify a few lines of pre-written code. Incidentally Mr. X has discovered that the codes he deals with require absolutely zero imagination and no creativity.

The rest of the updates will follow as and when Mr. X finds time and finds updates *wink*. For now, Mr. X has to test the next piece of code. :-).

I do not expect many people to read this post, partly because I have been on an extended leave from the blogosphere and mostly because I never had many readers to start with. So, if you did read this post, you might consider offering Mr. X your sympathies.

It was the summer of 2001 when God Narayana decided that he had enough. Kalyug was a mess, and it was time for him to descend upon it and cleanse the earth as he had done in the previous Yugs.

The job had to be done, and God Narayana knew that he had delayed it long enough. But then it was never easy. It was troublesome adjusting to the peculiar ways of the humans. The humans had a wide variety of customs and traditions which were irrationally peculiar; but the weirdest thing was that they fanatically defended the traditions that they followed and denounced those that they did not. Goddess Lakhsmi had tried to calm his nerves, but it wasn't of much help. How could it be when Narayana knew that it was certain to get tougher this time? The very thought of cleansing Kalyug left butterflies fluttering in Narayana's stomach.

Procastrination never helps and being amongst the greatest of Gods, Narayana was well aware of that. So one fine day, in the September of 2001, Narayana descended upon planet earth. Little did he know that on 21st July, 2001, Aamir Khan's latest movie 'Dil Chahta Hai' had been released.

He sent an 'All's well' sms to goddess Lakshmi. And that was the end of all communication. Hours went by and soon two days had elapsed without a single word of communication from Narayana. Goddess Lakhsmi had started to grow anxious. True, Narayana was a God, but then you could never know what dangers lurked in Kalyug. But that was not what Lakshmi was really worried about. The real danger were those pretty Bollywood heroines who had started to shed clothes at an alarming rate. As with every Indian woman, Lakshmi was never comfortable leaving Narayana in the company of pretty women. How could she after listening to all those horrifying stories of Greek Gods falling in love with earthly damsels??

It was time to send in a gaurd. So Lakhsmi sent two trusted gaurds to check what Narayana was up to. Another two days passed. There was still no trace of Narayana or the gaurds. Lakshmi knew it was time for her marraige's mid-life crisis. She knew she had to act and act fast, if she had to save her marraige from going kaput. The very thought of losing Narayana to a bollywood heroine brought tears to her eyes.

But just as she was about to leave for earth, there was a knock on the door. Lakshmi opened the door with trembling hands. And there was Narayana. But he looked so sick and depressed that Lakshmi could only gape in horror. Lord Narayana went up to his room, put up a "DND" sign and locked the door.

A day passed like that. Lakhsmi was growing anxious. But secretly, she was happy that Narayana had finally come back to her. Finally unable to hold back her curiosity, she knocked on the door. First there was no response. But after a lot of nagging, Naryana finally relented and agreed to tell Lakshmi all that had transpired between the 'All's well' sms and Narayana's return.

" I'm growing old", said Narayana to Lakshmi. "It's high time I gave up being a God and started growing vegetables in our backyard". "Bulls**t, you still flirt with the same vigour", said Lakshmi coyly. "No, I'm serious, I've started forgetting things", he said. Lakshmi had started to grow curious again. Narayana went on," Never in my wildest dreams can I think of making such a mistake. It's simply unforgivable. I'm no longer worthy of being revered a God. No Lakshmi, perhaps you have grown used to the comforts of being a goddess, but its time we adjust to a simpler lifestyle".

Now that infuriated Lakshmi. "Will you stop beating around the bush and tell me what actually happened?", she retorted.

" From the memories of my Dwapar Yug trip, I remember that humans grew moustaches on top of their upper lips. But you know what, I found that my memory has started to play tricks on me. Coz I just found out that all males had moustaches at the bottom of their lower lips".

Sitting on a bench in a railway compartment munching a stale hot chicken patties, it occurred to me that life was not fair. For example, the stale hot chicken patties that came without tomato sauce (courtesy a shop at the station) had cost me fourteen bucks. Not fair. First, the only place where I could find chicken was in the name. Next, the little square piece of baked or fried or whatever dough had cost ten bucks the last time it went down my food pipe. Which was probably 2-3 years ago. But then, this one tasted as if it had been fried 2-3 years ago as well.

My eyes darted to the pretty gal in the corner of the compartment. She was smiling at some apparent joke which her dull looking boyfriend had cracked. Not fair again. I was single, sweaty and grumpy while that guy was having a good time.

Life is also strange. Lets take the patties example. The vegetable patties is triangular while the chicken patties is square. I tried hard to figure out some apparent reason that could justify this fantastic choice of shapes. Probably the difference ensured that the vendor would not hand over chicken patties against vegetable orders as a mistake. I gave up thinking. Maybe I should have bought a vegetable patties instead. They seemed to sell more; that meant it was less probable that they would be stale. I have the best of realizations at the worst of moments. Life isn't fair at all.

Back to the gal. Perhaps I was a bit harsh on her boyfriend. If that was her boyfriend at all. I of all people should abstain from judging people by their looks. Its funny how we do the things that we expect others not to. Nah, Life is a weird and unfair concoction.

Why did the patties vendor sell me the stale stuff? He certainly did not intend to sell stale patties to me when he had placed his order. He was bad at inventory control. I remembered that they had taught me inventory control back in my fourth semester. Weird. I am a software techie who has a one in a million chance of ever having an inventory. They keep teaching the wrong guys. Our mathematics department had put me through a lot of trouble mugging inventory control. I wished they had spared me the trouble. The vendor selling the stale patties deserved it more anyway.

My thoughts were stopped mid-way by the gal. She stared at me. Or so I thought. I am never confident when gals look anywhere around me. A part of me tells me that I was the intended recipient of the gaze. The other part tells me that the gal looked at everything except me. By the time I make up my mind, the gals are long gone. No wonder, I was single and grumpy on that bench.

The train stopped with a jerk. The gal and her probable boyfriend walked out. I was done eating the patties. I realized that I had patties crumbs clinging to a substantial portion of my face. Even the bag on my lap had minuscule crumbs all over. I have never really learnt the art of eating cakes and patties. I took out my handkerchief and started to clean up the mess.

Dr. B. Kar stepped back from his table. He had begun to sweat profusely. Not that he wasn't used to the heat. His life had never been easy. He took out his dirty handkerchief and mopped his brow. He was almost there.

It all came back to him.
He was born into an average middle class family. Very simple and very normal and very accepted. Until the day he was born. For he was anything, but normal.
He was born with an ugly large head and a small diminutive torso. The nurse had shrieked when he was born, and his mother had smiled. But soon people knew that the large ugly head was not as ugly inside as it was from the outside. He was nothing less than a genius.

However that did not change people's attitude towards him. Boys of his age avoided him. He could sense that. He never went to play with them. That troubled his mom. She would try to coax him to go out and play with the rest of the kids of his age. “How do you know they don't like you unless you go out and see for yourself?” she would say. He loved his mom. He did go out one day, only because he wanted to see her happy. He had returned weeping with a big purple bruise on face that made him look even uglier. And a bag full of insults on top of that. He never went out after that. His mom had never asked him again.

School was a similar story. He was abused everyday. Even the teachers loathed him because he was so ugly. He had slowly learnt to accept that as a part of his existence. He did not have many choices.

But school also meant Physics and Math and Chemistry. It fascinated him. Science gave wings to his imagination. It became his world and gave him a reason to exist; to bear whatever wrong the world continued to do to him. He had a natural ability for science. He made the teachers very uncomfortable. The other students loathed him even more. He was yards ahead of them. He never topped his class though. Because he did not believe in sticking to what was written in the books. Science was his baby and he hated rules when it came to science. He wanted to explore it the way he wanted. But he was smart. And he knew he had to pass school. So he did enough to pass school with decent grades every year.

And then he saw Shaina. She was the new girl in the class. And the most beautiful. Shaina was popular from day one. She made heads turn wherever she went. She was smart and she was also good at studies. He had never really looked at girls before. But Shaina was different. She had captured his imagination. She disturbed his thoughts. His thoughts were clouded with his feelings for her. His grades had begun to suffer. Shaina was an angel for him, a goddess; someone who gave a new dimension to his being. Or so he thought.

It’s funny how moss can grow even on stones. One day, the loathed, abused B. Kar actually found the courage to confess his feelings to Shaina. He had been unable to sleep the previous night. Shaina had slapped him hard and demanded how someone as ugly as him could even dare to think something remotely close to that. Then she had walked away, leaving behind two of her muscular followers to do the rest. One of them had punched him in the face and the other had pushed him to the ground. They had given him one kick each and left. And B. Kar had learned an important lesson in life. He stayed clear of gals for the next ten years of his life.

But Bella was different. She worked with B. Kar in the lab where he did his research. He had met her when he joined as a researcher in the lab after completing his PhD. B. Kar had performed exceedingly well in college. But his social life was still the same. True, people no longer abused him, but he knew that he was still a loner, an outcast. He was awarded honors and recognized multiple times. People had clapped. He had walked out of the auditorium and found that things had not changed one bit. But then, he wasn’t really expecting a change.

Not until it was a year after he had started working with her. That was three years ago. Bella was a decent, good looking girl, and she neither had the glamour nor the attitude that Shaina did. In fact, B. Kar hadn’t really noticed her. But Bella was impressed with B. Kar’s intellect and his analytical abilities. She befriended him, though all they discussed was technology. Once in a while, they would go down to have lunch together in the canteen. Very rarely, they would also talk about something lighter. B. Kar usually fumbled, for the simple reason that he was not used to sharing anything with another human. But Bella would make up for the two of them. Bella was the friendly types; she was on close terms with a lot of people in the facility.

B. Kar had tried hard to ignore what he had gradually started feeling for Bella. His experience with Shaina had left a scar that was irreparable. However, ignoring her had not been easy either. Even Bella had noticed his uneasiness. She had asked him what he was up to. B. Kar had avoided the question. But Bella asking him the question had given him a new hope. “This is different”, he had told himself. He had his reasons. They both knew each other quite well. Bella actually cared for him. She was the first person to care for him after his parents who were long gone. “And, this is not a crush the way Shaina was”, he thought. He had known her for a substantial time before he had started to develop feelings for her. After more than a month of deliberation with himself, B. Kar finally told Bella what he felt for her.

Bella was left in tears. She had told him how she felt for him as a friend and could not believe that he had such things in his mind all along. She could not believe that he had mistaken her friendliness for something else. “You have insulted me. I do not think we can be friends any longer”, she had said.

B. Kar was devastated. Because it became clear that whatever he did, he would remain an outcast. He had suspected that all along, but when it became clear to him, it hit him harder than he had thought possible. He stopped going to the lab. Within a week he had resigned. He had thought Bella might reconsider and sympathize with him. It was his belief that he deserved that. When she did not, he decided that it was time to end his life. Because he knew that his existence had lost its meaning. A man, above all, is a social being. A man who had no social acceptance had no reason to exist.

But he did not. Every man has his destiny. After the initial shock had passed, B. Kar felt it was his destiny. He had to rise to the occasion. He had to prove himself to the world, prove to Bella, to Shaina, to everyone who had wronged him since the day he was born. He had to give them an answer, an answer that would shock the very existence of their ego. They were dispensable. He would show them that they were dispensable. B. Kar would make them pay very very badly for what they had done to him. B. Kar relocated to his father’s property in the remote town where he had spent his childhood. He set up a lab in his ancestral home. The place was in ruins, but that hardly mattered to B. Kar. He spent all his money in his research. When it dried up, he stole millions of dollars through the Internet. He knew that the world owed it to him. No one ever got a trace. He was a genius; he was ahead of his time.

And today, three years later, B. Kar knew that he was there. His answer was ready. He walked towards his laptop and initiated the power sequence. There was a very gentle whirring of motors as the initiator circuits came to life. And then there was silence. For his ‘baby’ was perfect. B. Kar smiled in satisfaction.

“Hi Biplab, how are you doing”, Bella’s sweet voice broke the silence. A shiver ran down B. Kar’s spine. And then he laughed. Bella was his now. She would not hurt him anymore. She was his, anyway he wanted her. And he could never lose her again. He knew that was out of the question. No one could take his Bella away from him now. This Bella was completely his; her very existence in its entirety was his.

Only, now she was electronic.

P.S. This is my attempt at fiction in a really long long time. If you read this, and you are not in a rush, do drop me a comment. Please tell me what you felt about this or what you feel should have been different.