Disclaimer: Except me, every character in this blog post is imaginary. It holds no resemblance, what so ever, with any person- living or dead. And the story is a figment of imagination, nothing else. In case the characters or the story does resemble, then take my word for it; it is purely co-incidence. This is a shortened version of a sub-plot from a movie script which I am attempting to finish.
~ The story ends here ~
“And your time starts now.”
Sweat beads shone on my forehead. I was grasping for air, and my tongue struggled for words. My heart rate was surely racing away. It was about to fall away from my mouth.
I am sure that no other person in the room would have noticed that I was feeling miserable, but I felt the heat. Every preparation and revision which I ever did, failed me at the most important moment of my life. I cursed myself. I wanted to run away and jump in the river. No, ocean. I never wished to see my face again. Maybe I should go for plastic surgery. Gosh! My mind was playing games at this crucial juncture. I was slowly losing it, and somewhere down the line, I knew that this is my last chance. Slowly but gradually, the moments drifted along. I shivered and my spine became straight. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second, and my heart screamed out.
“Common Mohul. You can do better!”
And suddenly the door bell rang, and few random images flashed through my mind.
I had heard about Mr Vikram Oberoi around three years back, when I was working on an assignment related to Entrepreneurship. And from that minute, I was hooked on to his life. I read several articles and posts about him in the last 3 years of my professional career. To be precise, 1,769 which include articles, stories, blogs, news, interviews, forums and newspaper cuttings. They all were carefully preserved in my attic, in the form of A4 size printout and photocopies. The whole collection was dutifully dusted and revised every weekend. I knew his whole family background, his relationship status and his current balance sheet by heart. Heck, I even knew which company’s share he presently held. By the ways, Mr Vikram Oberoi was ‘The’ serial entrepreneur and one of the star investors in the Indian business horizon. He mainly created companies, and then sold them off for profit. Last year, he created a fortune of $150 million, by selling the hottest dating website in Indonesia. After this eye popping deal, his total worth increased by mere 3%. He was big. And he was ruthless in making business decisions. His competitors feared him and thus, respected him. I was in awe of this person, and wanted desperately to meet him once, and share my side of the story. Today, he is going to celebrate his 65th birthday, and only three persons in the world knew this fact. Mr. Vikram Oberoi’s driver was the third person.
It was exactly 5 months back that I ever worked as a salaried employee.
After working in the corporate sector for the last 3 years, every imaginable corner of my heart ached out, “Leave the freaking job”. I was strongly convinced that my ‘precious’ time is being wasted in someone else’s office. In most of the times, during day and during night, my mind repeatedly resonated the fact that for few thousand INR, I shouldn’t hand over my freedom to someone else. My body couldn’t bear any longer, and the emotional dam broke down at the dawn of a March morning. It was the real Ides of March for me. It was pretty dramatic the way I quitted the job. Went in straight to the boss, and hugged him tight. He was shocked.. He pushed me away, and shouted, “What the hell???”
I turned away, and ran away to the exit. Later in the day, he must have read my resignation SMS which I had sent him earlier.
And after 5 months of quitting my job, I was shattered. Most of my savings consumed, on high debt, and still undecided what to actually do. I had lied to my parents all this while, and had basically done nothing. All this time, all I did was make plan and diagrams and charts. Action was most probably missing. Often, a whisper from deep down suggested me that I left the job in haste. I was confused, and in doubt. I was afraid as well. Or maybe I was afraid of the failure, as Seth Godin famously pointed out. I took the last gamble of my luck, and gave that old driver Rs 5,000, and took the address. According to that driver, Mr Vikram Oberoi is going to spend his birthday alone, in Hotel Leela Palace, which is the most expensive hotel in the whole NCR. Bloody Lie. I told myself, as I took the address from him and gave him Rs 5,000. If this one fails, I will join a job and well, torture myself again for undecided amount of time.
And, The Meeting:
I bought the largest available bouquet and reached the hotel. The room number was mentioned in my ‘bought’ chit of paper. I slowly crossed the corridor, walking on the velvet carpet and rehearsed the lines which I would blurt out, the moment he sees me. I was not tensed, but just excited. I knocked twice on the door.
“Who is there?”
“Your birthday gift, sir”
The door opened after 10 seconds. And I saw him, for the first time, face to face.
“I am unemployed, and wish to start a business venture with your blessing. Your ex driver gave me this address, and I didn’t believe him a bit. Yes, I paid bribe to meet you, because I really wanted to meet you. I am sorry if I disturbed you… “
He cut me short.
“Shut the ****up. You want money, so you ruined my birthday evening. I can call the cops and get you arrested, you bastard. “
I stammered, “I am really sorry sir.. I am afraid I had no other option left. I have read every article and blog about you and I really admire you contribution to the world of ….” He again cut me short.
“Anyone with Google.com can know everything about me. Tell me fast, and leave me alone. What is your logic?”
Err… logic? I never expected this as a question. I had prepared the questions regarding my new business idea for starting a new company, and I was expecting to answer that.
“I didn’t get it, sir.” It was officially the first blooper of the day.
“Why the hell should I invest money on you?”, he growled.
“Well sir, my calculations are purely based on the existing market data, and I believe that we can double our ROI in 6 months. All that I need is…” He once again cut me short.
“Listen chap. One thousand and one persons like you come daily to my office with brilliant ideas like yours. They all assume that I like the idea and invest on it. No! I like the person, and invest on the person.. And you..”
He himself cut that short, and asked me to sit down on the couch. He lighted his cigar, and took the glass of scotch which he was having prior to my sudden appearance. I placed the bouquet on the small glass table, and wished him a happy birthday.
“I really liked the way you made your appearance here. You are desperate for success. Nice one.”
I blushed and was about to say a warm thanks, when it happened. The bomb was hurled across me, without any warning. He was certainly ruthless.
“Can you sell this old computer to me, in less than 30 seconds?” He pointed towards an old computer, which was lying in a distant corner of the room. I wondered what an old computer is doing at Leela Palace.
“And your time starts now.”
It gave me some moments of respite, and I regained my posture. While Mr Vikram Oberoi was telling the waiter that he does not need dinner, my mind was racing against time to find out a way to sell that damn computer. I could have heard my heart beats now.
He sat across me on the couch, and looked directly into my eyes.
“Sell it now, and get my blessing. Or else, bug off.”
“Sir, have you heard about Microsoft Windows, the largest selling Operating system ever invented on Earth? Over 500 million of them have been sold till now.”
“Yes.. Carry on” came back the reply.
“Bill Gates had written the codes of this great Operating system, on this very computer which you are seeing it across the room. If you buy it within 5 minutes, you can get it for $10,000. After these 5 minutes, you won’t be able to afford it.”
I was able to sell that old computer to Mr Vikram Oberoi. And the story starts from here..!
This was originally posted on my blog: MohulGhosh.com
|About the author: Mohul Ghosh is an Online Marketer and Writer, who is polishing his skills at Social Media Management. For understanding more about what he does, you can read his professional pitch. Or, why should you love him! You can connect with Mohul on Facebook here and onTwitter here. Oh yes. He is on Google+ as well. You can subscribe to Mohul’s feed by clicking this link. And, please don’t forget to write your comments at the bottom. Mohul survives on your feedback!|