Epistle 37: The Fight for Survival A/N: Hey there everyone! :D :D Here is the next update! :D :D
Happy Reading! :D :D
5th May, 2001:
The fight for survival is still on. And as every days closes into the opening of another, I can see victory getting closer as well. Yes... victory is there. That is certain. How much longer will I have to persevere for it though, I do not know, but I'm going to see this through the end. Gone are the days where I'd nearly accepted defeat against life's harsh realities. No. I will not back down. I refuse to lose; I will fight life head on.
Because I remember the sacrifices my parents have made for me day and night so that I could become a capable man one day. I remember the promise I made my mother while parting from her - that I would be my father's pillar of support. I remember the faith that my Mota Babuji has upon me and the countless number of times that he's said that my destiny had great things written for me. I remember Ishaani's silent support all through these fours years; through thick and thin. 'I'm in it for the long haul' is what she'd promised.
And because I remember, I cannot back down at any cost. I owe that to Love, who hasn't returned back to me till now, even though it's been a month. Because I remember, I know that I have to fight this through with every ounce of will and power combined that I possess. I am a fighter; I've always been one. I've never known what it was to lose because I never strived to lose. And I won't. Not when so much is at stake; not when so many expectations are riding upon me.
My physiotherapy sessions are going as smoothly as I can expect them to go. After two months of unresponsive therapy, I'd finally made my first breakthrough when my abdominal muscles began showing movement. Exercises and medication combined helped me regain complete control over them by a fortnight. But the real milestone was when I managed to prop myself up a month ago.
The physiotherapist said that I'd begun regaining back my motor functions in the pelvic area as well, which meant that recovery would only be positive from now on. She said that the day wasn't far when I would finally be able to stand upon my two feet devoid of a wheelchair, but may be with need of crutches. It didn't seem like such a bad deal for me. Not when I'd lived three months believing that I would never use my feet again.
Maybe it is this fact alone that pushed me back to the threshold of living. Hope is a very curious thing - it can even spark the dead alive. And that's what it did to me. Never have I been this passionate about life - about winning back what was taken away from me; about making sure to life it to the fullest. There have never been second thoughts in my mind that I was given this third life because I had a lot to conquer. A lot to live. And since this one month, there has been no stopping me.
Ishaani still takes me to the beach daily, but there is no bitter silence between us now. There is only warmth and acceptance that washes up our feet and slithers through our toes in a bewitching sense of being alive. And all I can do is keep curling my toes so that I can hold on to this sensation for as long as life takes me, never to forget what I'd lost, never to forget the cost I had to pay to regain.
Everybody in the family have been warm and loving to me. The other kids of the house spendmore time with me while Sharman and Devarsh sent me weekly letters from their boarding school. Baa still continues to give me the care of traditional medicine and even though her mindset about servants hasn't changed even in the slightest, she confessed to me last week that she would always be indebted to me for saving Mota Babuji's life. I don't know how far or how tranquil are things going to be in the future, but I learnt my lesson. Seize the day and live it to the fullest.
Maa and Baba pamper me throughout the day, giving in to anything and everything I want. It only makes me realize how much I had frightened them with my lifelessness, and it's a lesson I have learnt. I will never do that to them again, and it's only reminded me of why we came to Mumbai in the first place and what I needed to achieve.
With this, it also reminded me of what lay ahead - the man I sought to become. And in this one month, I have only been researching and reading about shares and the stock markets - not just of India, but of other countries as well. Ishaani has been borrowing heaps and heaps of books for me that can help me learn more, that can help me inch closer and closer towards what I now saw to be as my true ambition in life (apart from publishing a novel, ofcourse!). To make a name in the stock markets.
And today, my skill and instinct has been tested for the first time since I made up my mind about it. Mota Babuji came to visit me in the morning when Ishaani and I were discussing about our upcoming results next week. Our supreme predictions about who would top in my year and whether I was still in the running for becoming Head Boy came to a halt when Mota Babuji asked to have a private word with me, looking slightly embarassed for breaking our conversation mid-way.
Ishaani didn't protest much but left the room with a wink, her way of saying that she would be around, snooping. I shook my head at her, flustered, but nodded at her nonetheless with a smile of my own. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed that Mota Babuji staring at me lovingly before taking a seat upon my cot where I now sat propped partially against the wall, a seat just vacated by Ishaani minutes ago.
Mota Babuji ruffled my hair lovingly, asking me with his usual gentility.
"How are you feeling now, Ranveer?"
"Much, much better," I replied, feeling suddenly anxious as to what Mota Babuji needed to talk to me about.
"Are you doing your exercises properly?" he asked me seriously and I nodded my head solemnly, not missing the concern in his eyes. He satisfied himself with a 'good', before I couldn't contain my curiosity any further.
"What happened, Mota Babuji? Is everything alright?" I asked him worriedly, my mind running through several things that could be worrying him.
"Yes," he replies with a small smile, continuing once I nodded at him in relief. "I came here to tell you thank you," he added sheepishly, and I shook my head in exasperation.
"Mota Babuji, if this is again about saving your life like you have been telling me every day-" I began to pacify him but he cut across my speech, surprising me.
"Well, if I even thank you for the rest of my life, it won't be enough. Not even remotely," he told me, and I noticed that his eyes had gone misty. I turned my eyes away, unable to meet his gaze.
"You've done much more than that for me, Mota Babuji. This might just be a small form of repayment," I confessed truthfully in return, and he smiled at me gently, his sage eyes seeking my own youthful ones.
"The cost you've had to pay is not worth it. Nobody's life is," he admitted rather solemnly, but the two of us knew that it wouldn't change my perception of things.
"That's what you think," I assert firmly, hoping that I wasn't being rude. Thankfully, I wasn't.
"That's what I believe, and one day you will understand," he stated mysteriously, and I nodded my head in respect. I barely had time to come up with anything to say before Mota Babuji continued once again, this time his tone serious. I identified this tone from somewhere before, but I couldn't remember where.
"That's not the only thing that I came to thank you about today."
"There's more?" I questioned him, my confusion now highly evident.
"Yes," he replied, a courteous smile upon his aging features. "Remember the Reliance shares that you helped me buy five months back?" he questioned me, and I remembered where the voice belonged to. It was a strict business tone. And the fact that he considered our conversation that professional only made my heart swell a little more with a happiness that felt so foreign after so long.
"Yes, what about them?" I asked, trying to keep the nervous excitement out from my voice.
"Well, they've yielded me super profits. They're currently trading at 274," he informed me and I let out a low whistle. He smiled at the dumbstruck expression on my face and continued.
"Yes, and that's got us some very good returns in terms of investment."
"But I thought that you sold shares daily," I asked, suddenly remembering how Mota Babuji had told me that he sold shares daily.
"True that, but if we know that a company's shares may go higher in the future, we start buying more and more of them at a reasonable price," he explained and I nodded my head in understanding.
"The lowest price I've paid for the Reliance onces are 202.2, and the highest, 215.8, before they shot up by nearly 30% on an average," he let me know further.
It took me a few minutes to digest what my one advice implemented by Mota Babuji had actually achieved. I had to ask myself to come back to Earth and remain grounded. Pride was vain to feel at a fluke gone right, even though my instinct had been a logical one. However, I noticed the slight depressing of the creases on Mota Babuji's forehead and knew that there was certainly more to it.
"But you seem troubled," I said, more of a statement than a question. He nodded.
"Yes, because the matter of concern over here is of the same. The prices of the shares have hit roof high because of speculation, not fact," he confessed, and I gave him a bewildered look.
"I don't understand," I admitted to him, and he sighed.
"As the days are going by, more and more shares are being made available to the public, and seeing the share price rise every day, more and more probable investors seem to be buying up the shares. It works like a cycle, you see," he explained uncertainly, wondering whether I would understand. I'd just read a piece in one of the books on unusual patterns of share trading and had come across this particular point. I nodded my head in understanding, posing my next question carefully.
"Who's seeling the shares?"
"The Ambani's, ofcourse," he answered me, knowing that I'd understood the crux of the matter. It was no secret to him that I'd been taking an unusual interest in the working of the stock market in this one month. He continued once again, this time not bothering with explaining the technalities, knowing that I was well-read with it by now.
"It's no secret that even if they sell off 20,00,000 of their shares, they'd still only lose 1% of the control, and they own up to 72% ownership control in Reliance. They've been selling out shares little by little and have been making it available to the investors, which in turn does the job of increasing the share price, generating profits," he emphasized, while I gave him an impressed look.
"Oh my, that's quite a gimmick they've got there," I think I said stupidly, and he chuckled.
"Astounding, isn't it?" he said in return, and I flushed dully. To avoid looking like a smiling idiot, I tried to bring back the conversation to its solemn grounds.
"So what's the problem?" I asked him, now genuinely curious.
"The problem is that the bubble might burst any day. There is no doubt that the gas reserves are still out there, but Reliance Petroleum haven't made a hit yet. And in the rare case they issue a confirmed statement stating otherwise, the prices will crash devastatingly, and would be quite a shocker for us," he admitted half-heartedly, and I could suddenly see what was disturbing him. The risk was way too high.
"How many shares do you own of Reliance?" I inquired after pondering over the matter for a good twenty minutes, during which all Mota Babuji did was stare at me with an unfathomable expression on his face.
"5,00,000 shares," he replied instantly. I continued, weighing my thoughts out carefully and thinking out every word and phrase before speaking.
"And you're wondering whether you should sell them all when things are at a peak or to keep them on for a little longer to juice more profits?" I asked, hoping that he wouldn't take it offensively. He didn't.
"Well, you've got me," he said as he raised his hands up in surrender, and I gave him a broad smile.
"I think you should sell-" I began, and in that split second I could see Mota Babuji's expressions drop. However, his face lifted up the next moment when I continued. "-20,000 of them."
"What have you got in mind?" he questioned me, looking confused. I realized that my thoughts had flown way too ahead and that I had to curb the speed of my idea to bring Mota Babuji to understand the plot without losing him.
"You say that there are big investors in the market, but that doesn't mean that there aren't normal people looking for investments as well. I think releasing 20,000 shares might have some effect," I started once again, worried that he might think that he'd misjudged my instinct or my capability. However, he only looked at me curiously.
"You mean to say that if I sell 20,000 shares, there might be a chance that the share prices do rise again, and that may very well accomodate for the opportunity cost that I've lost in terms of the profit that I could have generated with the 20,000 shares in the first place?" he asked in return, and I smiled. He understood what I had in mind.
"Something like that, yes," I admitted, and he gave me an intrigued look.
I ploughed on confidently, even though I felt in that moment as though I might faint with worry or apprehension of blowing the whole thing. Nobody messed with the King of Dalal Street and you only had one chance to prove yourself. Goodness knows that after my accident, this has been the first time I've ever felt this inclined towards anything. I could not lose the chance to train under Mota Babuji doing something I love.
"You can periodically sell 20,000 shares, say in a gap of 7-10 days each. That way you minimize any chances of loss by covering up the opportunity cost as well if the prices keep rising. If not, you're minimizing loss," I explained further, and he gave my idea great thought.
"That's a really long shot, son," he said after another gap of ten minutes, and I felt a brick drop in my stomach. Dread, however, still hadn't entered my heart yet.
"I know it's stupid, but I don't see any other way here," I told him honestly, knowing that the dilemma had he had in mind had only one solution to it to would appeal to him. Unfortunately, it was a reckless gamble too. He gave my proposition more thought.
"Okay, supposing that I do accept your advice and do so. What if the markets plummet?" he asked me, but this time not as a businessman seeking advice. It was a pro testing the capacity of a beginner.
"Then I don't think that you would be left with much choice. You've have to sell half of your shares to minimize losses. You've bought the shares at an average of 209 if I remember correctly. I think that even if the share price plummets by 20%, you may still have time to recover or scrape off minimum profits," I replied carefully, weighing the odds with great care.
"And what about the remaining that I'd be left with?" he asked again, his eyes now boring into mine with a newfound interest.
"That'd be your reserve," I replied smartly. "There's always chances that they might make a hit somewhere, automatically giving it an upward push. I don't think that it would be wise to ever sell of all the shares of a company like Reliance Petroleum, where anything is possible," I spoke quickly, regretting my words instantly. One must never be so blatant about their opinions with pros, not when they were beginners.
"That's going to be one hell of a risk, you know. Forgive me for my language, but that's really risky," he confessed solemnly, and suddenly a recklessness like never before overtook my instinct.
"Didn't you always say that the stock market is a gamble?" I ask edhim imprudently, and honestly, I could only be grateful that I wasn't whipped for my audacity. Somehow, it seemed to rub no effect on Mota Babuji whatsoever. If anything, he now looked at me with a newfound admiration.
"Provided you know what the stakes are," he countered me wisely. "If this investment goes wrong and I don't even manage to regain the complete principal amount, it's going to be a 10.5-crore investment going to the drain. You know what this could do to the credibility of our company as well," he said me with a hint of a warning in his tone, but somehow my confidence in my idea didn't seem to waver even in the slightest. Hearing about money with denominations I couldn't even fathom didn't shake my confidence upon the plan even though I was seized by a crazed moment of fear that passed away as soon as it'd come.
"I do," I accepted and he smiled at me enigmatically. I added on another statement as instinct overcame me yet again. "And besides, you needn't do like I say. I'm still the same ninth standard boy that I was five months ago," I said with a sheepish look on my face, suddenly humbled at the thought that Mota Babuji considered me that capable and trustworthy enough to share his business problems with me.
Mota Babuji gave me a deep look before sighing, now speaking with a conviction that startled me.
"A ninth standard boy with an exceptional understanding of numbers," he corrected, meeting my eyes fully once again with a strange fire in them. Before I could even think of countering his statement, he added gently.
"Always trust your instincts, Ranveer. It'll never guide you wrong."
He smiled and hugged me before getting up, leaving me reeling from the weight of that statement. Deja vu hit me in an uncanny resemblance in that moment.
Ishaani returned back minutes after Mota Babuji left the room, a sly smile on her face. It went without even the slightest of doubt that she had overheard the entire conversation. She came and slid back to the same position that she'd occupied before she was made to leave the room. She took my hand in her own and spoke happily.
"I see that Papa has been taking advice from you again."
"I don't think he will take so this time. I was way out of line," I told her, all my apprehensions and worries suddenly returning back.
"Don't be too surprised if he does take your advice. The cracked heads are always the ones with the genius," she replied me cockily, and I stuck my tongue out to her along with pulling her pigtails. She scowled irritably and I contended myself with a 'ha ha'.
"How's the leg?" she asked me as she noticed me fidget with my toes uncomfortably. I do that when I'm nervous about something.
"Good... Atleast I can move my toes and give a slight push upon my lower legs," I answered satisfactorily, and she smiled.
"Didn't I tell you that things would be alright eventually?" she asked, stroking my cheek now. I smiled at the warm touch of her fingers.
"The wait isn't always this fruitful," I admitted to her silently. She suddenly gave me a deep look, not unlike the one Mota Babuji had given me a few minutes ago.
"Its good to see that you are finally fighting," she said, the love in her voice overpowering all my senses as it spread across my heart like a balm that was always welcome.
"I don't have a choice," I confessed to her as I shut my eyes, a tear escaping in spite of myself.
I don't know why, but it did. She smiled and gave me a hug while I took in the scent of her hair as I reciprocated awkwardly, my legs still a barrier. But I knew that I would break through this barrier someday. I had to.
Because it was my fight for survival.
Constructive criticism will be more than welcome and sorry for any typos. :D :D
Next chapter:
Epistle 38
Edited by LadyMeringue - 8 years ago
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