Losing My Religion: Chapter 2 - Show me a way forward

Here's this week's dose of #LosingMyReligion series, where I post snippets of my best-selling novel 'Losing My Religion' every week. This week, I am posting the complete Chapter 2, where Rishi's trying to figure out what to do after shutting down his startup (a place where I personally was, being broke. This story is loosely inspired by my personal life to begin with.) Hope you enjoy reading it.

Chapter 2

He reached the bar at 9:17 p.m., having battled the terrible Friday evening traffic. Commuting in the city was a trying thing. If earlier he had looked tired, he appeared downright jaded now.

Stepping out of his Pajero, Rishi felt the chilly evening air prick him, almost needling him into a state of alertness that had been missing a short while ago. He welcomed it, this slight lifting of the pall he was getting accustomed to. Putting his BlackBerry into his pocket, he walked towards the building in front of him.

The pub was an upscale one in the heart of the city. With its warm, engaging ambiance and eclectic decor of antiques, propellers, and racing sculls, the bar had never ceased to enrapture him. Though he was a true product of the fickle Bangalore pub culture, sampling anything and everything that cropped up on his radar, this was one place he frequented more than others. Much more. It had a way of deposing him of the weariness he felt at the end of a hard day. He entered the pub on the beats of Linkin Park’s ‘In the End’, and felt the track almost reverberate through his body. Greeting a few familiar faces, he located his friends who had managed to get a good table at the end of the bar, and made his way to them.

‘Ri-Rishi!’ he heard one of them exclaim when he reached the table. It was Viren.

‘You’re late as usu—,’ began Karan, turning his face to welcome him, but the rest of his sentence got lost somewhere inside. ‘Stuck with meetings again?’ he finally managed to spurt out.

‘No, I was at Natasha’s place,’ he replied, taking a seat. His friends nodded.

Both Karan and Viren were his friends from his engineering days. While Karan was someone whom he had befriended much later in college, Viren had been his roommate for all those four years. When his and Viren’s bond had intensified and taken the shape of good old friendship, both of them didn’t know. But, possibly, sometime during getting drunk as skunks after their last exam and before going back home on holidays, they had forged a deep bond. Viren had, over the period of years, become his biggest critic and was the only one in his life who called a spade a spade. Karan was someone whom he could have a lot of fun with on any given day. But lately even these bonds seemed to be getting frayed at the edges.

‘So, what’s going on with you two?’ inquired Viren once the silence between them had stretched beyond the accepted boundary of normal.

‘Nothing much. You know how things are with me right now. No time for anything serious,’ Rishi offered casually.

The waiter came by just then and they began ordering. ‘Jack Daniels on the rocks. Large,’ said Rishi.

‘Make it three,’ added Karan.

‘And get nachos,’ finished Viren.

Soon, they clinked glasses and began sipping their scotch. Before long Karan and Viren got down to swapping stories of their work life, as an uninterested Rishi looked on.

Both his friends worked with multinational software firms in Bangalore. Despite doing reasonably well, he had never seen them happy with their jobs. Either they were dissatisfied with their boss or bonus or quality of work or unhappy with the lack of onsite opportunities or some such thing. They cribbed about their miserable work lives more nights than not, and that always got on his nerves. Viren was always appearing for interviews and Karan had changed five jobs in the last six years. It was another one of those trends in Bangalore—company hopping.

Once they were done bitching about their work life, everyone sat silently—drinking and listening to the music—seemingly out of topics to discuss. The deejay had switched to playing classic rock, and REM’s ‘Losing My Religion’ was on; a song they all liked.

Rishi looked at his friends and said, ‘I’m losing my religion.’

‘Huh?’ said Viren, looking at him from over the rim of his glass.

‘I’m losing faith in whatever I ever believed in. Have been trying too hard for too long, and I’m tired. Enough of chasing dreams and making sacrifices. I’m not even sure why I struggle so hard anymore. I am faithless. Need a fresh start. Just that I’m not sure ho—’

‘What! You of all people cannot be losing faith!’ interrupted Viren, a little shocked to hear him speak this way. ‘You push me to take risks, try harder and all that. So, you have to do the same. I don’t know. . . . Try resurrecting your company. I know you’ve closed it down, but aren’t you meeting investors even now? You’ve spent three years, Rishi. Why not another six months?’

Viren was clearly saddened to see Rishi reach such a turn in life. But he knew it wasn’t without reason. Life had changed drastically for his friend in the past year.

Around three years ago, Rishi had founded a high-tech gaming company with a few experts in the field. What had started as an exciting venture with path-breaking products soon turned unprofitable. The gaming products didn’t do well and the market just clammed shut to any of his efforts. He had a tough time getting investors after that. On top of it, the economic recession had reared its ugly head, playing spoilsport to a million dreams across the globe. In such a scenario, Rishi’s brainchild, his baby, had fought a losing battle, and despite his best attempts at resuscitating it, the company couldn’t be sustained any longer, and was shut down a month ago. And since then he had been living a nightmare.

‘I’m not sure if resurrecting the company is an option anymore. Sometimes, when it doesn’t make economic sense, it’s better to close the business down, Viren. Just close the damn thing down . . . Maybe when the economy recovers, I can do something about it. But right now, I am fighting a different battle . . .’ Rishi trailed off, his voice flat and sombre, his eyes as dead and lifeless as embers gone cold.

‘I am just . . . tired. Exhausted. My insecurities don’t leave me. I didn’t think this would happen to me. I am at that crossroads of life where I don’t know where the paths are going to lead. It’s a future largely undefined and that’s . . . that’s not something I expected to see, dammit. It’s not easy to see yourself being written off this way. I don’t know what to do. A part of me wants to just . . . run away. But a part of me wants to stay and continue fighting. Answer back. Fling it back on their fucking faces. Only, the thing is that I am worn out, man. Don’t have the strength to fight anymore. I feel fucked up in my head. Dead inside. And I am faithless. That’s the bottom line. I have lost my belief in all that I have been doing,’ he said, finally voicing out his dilemma and owning up to his innermost anxieties in front of his closest pals.

He saw Karan’s mouth move but didn’t hear a word of what he said. His mind had drifted to the past and the philosophy by which he had lived by: believing in himself and aiming high and never giving up . . .  

That was what had fuelled him all his life. Even the past year when his life had careened out of control right in front of his eyes, he had lived by this belief. He had wanted to build the most intelligent and revolutionary gaming software the industry had ever seen. And he had. But it had all come crumbling down in the end. Despite gaining critical acclaim and pioneering a new trend, the masses had not taken to his games. And that had resulted in a spiral of loss so colossal that no one could do anything.

He had become so absolutely bankrupt by the end of it that even if he wanted he couldn’t have put a single penny more into it.

‘Rishi? . . . Rishi? What do you say?’

‘Uhh . . . I didn’t hear you in this din. What did you say?’

‘The job at XingLabs may take you to a new level. There’s no thinking twice about it. Why don’t you take a break before that—a few weeks—and then join XingLabs or even start with a new idea?’ Karan repeated.

He nodded. ‘You read my mind. I think taking a break may be the best option. But I’m broke . . . and, if I take a break, it’s going to be a real break. I’m talking about a year or two here. I just want to let it go now, enjoy myself, kill the tension within me, and think about everything else later.’

‘A year or two? A year or two! Have you lost your mind?’ blurted out Viren.

Rishi stared at his friends—unblinking and expressionless. ‘Have you thought about what you want to do during this break?’ asked Karan, trying to be supportive.

‘I haven’t thought about it in great detail. All I know is that I want to head out. Explore the country or whatever. I have always wanted to travel, right? Might as well start now. As it is there is nothing left for me here. I’ll just bum around . . . discover new places, meet new people . . . different cultures, food. You get my drift. I’m not talking about any soul-searching journey here. I don’t believe in that bullshit.’

‘Are you really thinking of doing this?’ Karan asked. Rishi nodded. ‘We always talked about doing crazy stuff in our lives but no one had the balls.’

‘I know, guys. The only thing I need to figure out is the money. I’m not sure how much would be needed because, frankly, I don’t have a plan.’

‘I can lend you some. You can always give it back later,’ offered Karan.

Rishi shook his head in irritation. ‘I’m talking about a few lakhs here. And I don’t want to borrow money. I need some real peace. I was thinking of selling my car and—’

Karan and Viren looked at each other, shocked.

‘Have you gone completely nuts? Sell your car and go on a journey? That’s the only thing you have left. Don’t do that,’ spoke up Viren.

‘And you really are serious about this trip thing!’ said Karan, still trying to come to terms with what Rishi was saying.

‘Yes, I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. And whatever the case, I need to take a break before I go mad. I have nothing left here anymore. My company is shut, my ideals are lost, my bank balance is zero, and my whole life looks like a complete waste. So, please excuse me if you think I am sounding like a goner, because, my friends, that’s exactly how I am feeling!’ he retorted with clenched teeth. Calming down, he continued, ‘I’ll sell my car. Yes. No more thinking. I am going to start!’ But it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than his friends.

‘Damn, you already had this planned before you came here. Didn’t you?’ Karan asked in wonder.

Rishi nodded. ‘Somewhat.’

‘What are you going to do about XingLabs?’ questioned Viren.

‘I’m going to reject it.’

‘That’s a stupid idea. You are bankrupt; the industry is laughing at you, and what do you want to do? You want to go on a bloody trip! XingLabs is your chance to prove them wrong, and moreover you get to do your innovative tech work. What’s the matter with you, Rishi? You want people to think you are running away?’

‘What makes you think I care anymore? I’m sapped out, Viren. It’s a hollow tin here. You won’t understand . . .’

‘I understand! You have been through a rough patch, the media is hounding you, you have hit rock bottom in a way. So relax for a few weeks and get back to the real world. Don’t go hiding!’

Rishi was silent. And it stayed that way for a few minutes.

‘It’s a moot point. Why are we even bothering? Rishi, I know you have never listened to anyone. So go ahead with whatever hare-brained plan you have,’ said Viren finally, looking frustrated. He had always been the one who had cautioned Rishi at various junctures in his life, but Rishi was sort of a radical who did things only he could understand. Sometimes his decisions were right, rest of the times he worked hard against the odds to make them right, but he always did what he wanted. And everybody on the table knew that.

‘That’s not true; I have always valued your suggestions . . .’

‘Yeah? Like when? You didn’t listen to me when I told you not to invest everything in your company. You didn’t listen to me when you broke up with Koyel. Yo—’

‘Koyel left me. It was she who called it off,’ retorted Rishi instantly. Viren had hit a raw nerve.

‘Of course she left you and we supported her decision at the end. You were hibernating somewhere without talking to her for weeks! Even months. What was she to do?’

Rishi didn’t say a word, but a nerve continued to tick in his jaw.

‘Guys, that was five years ago. Let’s just forget it now,’ said Karan, trying to calm the situation.

‘Rishi, everyone looks up to you. I get it you are on a free fall of sorts. But don’t screw it all up, man. That’s all,’ said Viren, finishing his drink.

‘I have already screwed up big time, brother. That’s exactly why I want to go away from this city. It haunts me,’ Rishi responded in a quiet voice.

‘Where do you want to go? Any place in mind?’ Viren finally asked, not wanting to probe his friend anymore.

‘I’m not sure and I don’t care. I’ll go wherever the journey takes me.’ Although he had made that statement, he had no clue what that meant. He had never travelled without an agenda before; neither was he an avid traveller nor an adventurer.

‘Think again. Such decisions are not made overnight. The idea sounds fun, but it could turn into a disaster before you know it,’ cautioned Viren as he got up. They had finished their last drink and the bar was closing.

‘Don’t worry about me. I will figure something out,’ said Rishi, stammering a bit. He was drunk.

‘I’m sure you will be fine. Let’s leave now,’ said Karan.

‘I want to be alone for some time. I’ll catch up with you later next week,’ he said.

‘Are you sure? The bar is closing in sometime,’ said Karan.

‘Yes.’

***

He sat at the table for a while after his friends left. The crowd was slowly thinning. He walked to the bar counter, and said, ‘Ten tequila shots.’

‘Are you expecting friends, Rishi sir?’ the familiar bartender asked.

‘No, Joseph. Just me.’

He sat at the bar, looking down. The bartender lined up his shots. He had the first shot of tequila and bit on a slice of lime. He could feel the warmth in his throat. He felt better. He downed two more shots in quick succession.

‘I need some fresh air,’ he muttered after a while.

‘Going on a drive, sir?’ the bartender inquired on hearing him.

‘No . . . but it sounds like a good idea.’

***

Rishi finished the rest of the shots and was out of the pub in twenty minutes, heavily drunk. Getting into his car he decided to go on a long drive. With no agenda in mind, he drove around aimlessly; subconsciously following those routes where the cops were sure to not trouble him. He was in no mood to go to jail or bribe a cop.

As the minutes passed and his disillusionment grew, he increasingly became upset and lonely, not caring one bit which way he turned the steering to. The tyres screeched and the rubber burned, and he still pushed harder on the accelerator. Soon the city lights flashed past him, all becoming an indistinct blur in his rear-view mirror. Hitting the Bangalore-Mysore highway on the outskirts of the city and finding the roads empty, he chose to continue ahead.

Behind the wheels of his sturdy SUV, the Mitsubishi Pajero, he got reminded of his better days. He hadn’t always been broke. He hadn’t always been this down on luck. Hell, he hadn’t ever hit rock bottom in life.

He was once a celebrated entrepreneur who had built a successful e-commerce business called ShopIndia.com soon after his college. He had run it for three years, turned it into a household name in India, and later sold it for a good sum to an American company. Among the very first in India to make such an exit, he had been lavishly praised by the industry and turned into a poster boy by the media.

His first purchase right after the sale had been this SUV . . . Those were happy times, he thought, and felt worse that after achieving so much success he had failed with the gaming company. From a notable young entrepreneur to now a bankrupt businessman, he had become the talk of the industry.

Anger fuelled him, and he put his entire weight on the pedal, the SUV now roaring into the silent night. Speeding helped him feel better. I’m going to drive all the way to the end of the world. There is no point in returning, anyway.

At around 3 a.m., he approached the turn for Srirangapatna, the erstwhile capital of the rulers of Mysore. He was somewhat surprised that he was still alive after touching a hundred and forty kilometres on Indian roads, that too in this condition. Acting on a whim, he abruptly took the turn and started driving towards the town. Clearly, there was no accounting for his actions tonight.

Driving past the temples and palaces that had been built over a period of centuries, he finally ended up near the banks of River Cauvery. He sat inside the car for a few minutes, then stepped out into the cold, breezy night. Fumbling his way to the bank, he dipped his hands into the river, and began splashing water on his face. The water helped get rid of some of the alcohol-induced stupor. He felt a little better.

Retracing his steps, he made his way to the rocks that were beside the river and lit a cigarette. He lay there for a long time, listening to the sound of water rippling on the bank, the Cauvery’s soft gurgles a lullaby to his concerns. Above him the star-spangled sky shone on.

He looked at the stars and a question emerged from the deepest corners of his heart—Why? I thought I was going to be one amongst you . . . become a legend . . . revolutionise the gaming industry. I thought I was meant for greatness, I believed in it. Why did this happen then? Why? 

But he didn’t hear anything back. The stars stood mute, deathly silent. The wind didn’t blow, the leaves didn’t flutter, and the grass refused to rustle. 

He wondered what was up there, as he always had since childhood. The stars had always symbolised eternal glory to him . . . glory which he wanted to be. He believed he was born to be a star and that stars get to choose their own destiny. Tonight, he felt he was clearly wrong. He hadn’t been able to craft his destiny. He had failed. 

I don’t know what I am going to do next. But whatever I do, I do not want to be amongst you. To hell with you and your glory. 

Cool breeze swept across the river and caressed his face gently, as if the stars had sent the wind to calm him down. He closed his eyes painfully . . .

He looked up again and asked the very same stars to give him a hint about which path to take. Some god-forsaken sign. Something. Over the past two years, every path he had chosen had turned into a disaster. 

Show me a way forward, dammit . . . Give me a sign!

*** [end of chapter 2]

Read the previous parts of this series here:

• Prologue of 'Losing My Religion.'
• Losing My Religion: Chapter 1 - Broken Entrepreneur

If you want to get a copy of the book, here are some quick links

• Amazon - Buy paperback in India
• Flipkart - Buy paperback in India
• Amazon eBook - Global

 You can also learn more about the book on my website - VishwasMudagal.com