An entrepreneur, filmmaker, and photographer, Varun Agarwal is now an author. When not arguing with Anu Aunty, he is busy running his three companies in Bangalore.
For more details on the author, visit:
http://www.facebook.com/anuauntybook
http://www.facebook.com/varun.agarwal1
http://www.twitter.com/varun067
First published in 2012 by
Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd.
7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj
New Delhi 110002
Sales centres:
Allahabad Bengaluru Chennai
Hyderabad Jaipur Kathmandu
Kolkata Mumbai
Copyright Varun Agarwal 2012
Cover design and illustration: Jezreel Nathan
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This digital edition published in 2012
Varun Agarwal asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
e-ISBN: 978-81-291-2185-1
All rights reserved.
This e-book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publishers prior consent, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, mechanical, print reproduction, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. Any unauthorized distribution of this e-book may be considered a direct infringement of copyright and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Dear Mum,
If you ever find this book, dont read beyond this point. If you do, please dont disown me. You know I love you.
Sincerely,
Varun
Disclaimer
All the opinions expressed in this book are my own and are a result of the way in which my highly filmy mind interprets a particular situation. If I have inadvertently and unintentionally hurt someone through this book, well, too bad! Like always, I blame the heavy dose of Bollywood I grew up on for the over-the-top drama found in my writing.
Contents
Dude, This Guy Cant
Write for Shit
So before I start, I want to tell you that this book narrates the true story of my journey of becoming an entrepreneur. Okay, fine, maybe some aspects of my personal life are a bit exaggerated, but this is my story. So, take it or leave it.
This book simply relates all the experiences that Ive been through while trying to start my company with my friend, Rohn Malhotra.
People close to me know I am no writer. However, while writing this book, I really tried my best to stir up the inner Hemingway in me. But thats where the problem lies. You see, there IS no inner Hemingway in me!
So please dont read the book and then go running around like an enthu cutlet, telling your friends: Dude, I read this book; its a good story but the guy cant write for shit. I know that.
My former English teacher is probably going to scream after reading this. I am a storyteller and not a writer, so dont expect much.
(The names of some of my friends have been changed at their request.)
___________________
Enthu cutlet is a typical Bangalore word and refers to someone who gets over-excited about a variety of things like landing up at a restaurant before anyone else, making party plans on every occasion or even otherwise and putting up a status update on Facebook every two hours.
Part 1
He Got Only 95 per cent, Ya
have a vivid memory of my first encounter with Anu Aunty. I was in the sixth grade and my mum had come to school to collect my report card. Mum had met her at a random kitty party and they struck up a friendship that lasts till dateruining me in the process. While at school, I was always on the average side when it came to studies, and had no qualms about it. But that was before Anu Aunty breezed, or rather, thundered into my life.
After collecting yet another disappointing report card, my mum was heading towards the door when she bumped into Anu Aunty. She was one of those women who always poked her nose into everyone elses problem and sniffed for one even when there was none. She walked with an air of importance and pretended to know everything. She spoke in this characteristic sing-song style that never failed to annoy me.
Poo, haw are you ya? she gave my mum, Poornima, a friendly thwack with her heavyset arm. My mother quickly hid my report card in the folds of her sari and beamed.
Im good, Anu, she said. I didnt know your son studies here. What a pleasant surprise.
HmmI didnt quite buy this. You see, Indian aunties always know what other aunties are up to, what their children do, how much their husbands earn, the latest dish they have learnt to cook, and a billion other things that will make your head spin.
I know ya. It is a pleasant surprise. So how did he do? Anu Aunty was salivating with curiosity.
Okay, this was the bad part. Aunties hate it when they dont have a good comeback.
I had never given my mum a reason to boast about me and this moment couldnt get worse.
You know how these boys are ya, my mother put on a tragic face. They dont study only. She looked at me accusingly, as though I had just failed the IIT entrance. I was eleven years old, for Gods sake!
But how has your Arjun done, Anu? my mum asked.
Arjun was the blue-eyed boy of our class and the apple of teachers eyes. He could have an orgasm at the mention of exams and read textbooks with the same eagerness one reserved for Penthouse. He would always be interested in how much I had scored, pissing me off mightily. You remember that nerd in your school who would raise his hand every time a teacher asked a question? Arjun was that fucking nerd.
Oh! Arjun hasnt done well this time, ya Poo. Im really surprised by this boy. Anu Aunty sighed.
I smiled for the first time that day. What? A glimmer of hope? Maybe for once he screwed up?
How much did he score, Anu? my mum asked with renewed enthusiasm.
Only 95 per cent. Anu Aunty shook her head in dismay.
That is when I was introduced to the devious and sadistic world of Anu Aunty. She had this innate ability to make you feel extremely bad about yourself. 95 per cent not only implied that Arjun had topped the class, but the entire sixth grade as well.
Haw, but thats brilliant ya, Anu. My mother looked so impressed that one would think Arjun had received the Nobel Prize. I wondered fleetingly if this would be a good time to break the news that my Maths teacher wanted to meet my parents next week.
No ya, Poo, I had set a target of 98 per cent for him. He knows very well he is not getting his G.I. Joe now.
Who the fuck scores 95 per cent and asks for a G.I. Joe?
Anu Aunty wagged her fat finger at me.Varoon, you need to study hard, son. Stop giving your mum so much trouble ya. Remember, no studies, no future. Anyways, chalo, Ill go now. Have to drop Arjun for his violin classes also.