Like a Love Song

by Nikita Singh

  ‘But now we need to work harder than ever! We have Mr Jindal’s attention. We have to make it count. We’re proposing the business plan on Thursday! We have to go over it slide by slide and make sure we know everything through and through. There’s no room for errors anymore.’

  ‘Or we could … do that, yeah. That’s what I was going to suggest next,’ Maahi said. She could see Laila’s mind drifting to their presentation already. The presentation they had revised and re-revised at least twenty times in the past week. But Maahi didn’t mind doing it twenty times more in the next couple of days. Judging by her sudden moment of panic earlier, she could do with more preparation. If Mr Jindal liked what they had to say on Thursday, Cookies + Cupcakes could become an actual thing. Just the thought gave Maahi chills. It definitely was a good day.

  They worked on the presentation all day, dividing their roles clearly. They were each responsible for their own sections; splitting the responsibility made it easier for them to have more command over their content.

  ‘Are you taking the first slide or am I?’ Laila asked.

  ‘The introduction? Vision and value proposition?’

  ‘Yeah. Maybe I could begin with speaking about the general idea first—the introduction and then you can jump in with the vision?’

  ‘Improv?’ Maahi asked.

  ‘God, no. Are you kidding me? We have to rehearse the whole thing. I’m not leaving anything to chance.’

  ‘Right. Sorry I asked.’

  ‘Do you want to do this one more time?’ Laila asked.

  ‘Sur—’ There was a crash in the living room. Maahi went out to look. Sarthak was standing over shards of broken glass and water spread on the floor.

  ‘Oops,’ he said, looking at her walk in.

  ‘What happened?’ Maahi asked, going to the kitchen.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Laila asked from the door.

  ‘Bumped into the centre table. The glass slipped from my hand,’ Sarthak explained, just as Maahi came back from the kitchen with a broom and dustpan. ‘Give me. I’ll take care of it,’ Sarthak said.

  ‘I got it; you’ll cut yourself. Get out of the way,’ Maahi said, picking up the bigger shards on the dustpan.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘You can help us though. If you’re not doing anything.

  ‘Help you with what? I already came up with the name Cookies + Cupcakes for you. What else do you need from me?’ Sarthak sighed loudly. ‘I have to do everything around here.’

  ‘Just pretend to be an investor and let us pitch it to you,’ Maahi said. ‘Tell us what you think.’

  ‘That sounds dull.’

  ‘Oh yeah? What are your colourful plans for the evening?’ Laila intervened.

  ‘Anything other than this.’

  ‘Sarthak,’ Maahi said pointedly.

  ‘Ugh, fine. I’ll hear out your pitch. If I had money to give you, I would’ve.’

  ‘That’s quite alright. We don’t need your money. Actually, you know what, four years from now, when you graduate with your fancy degree from IIT Bombay and start making shitloads of money, and we still don’t have investors, feel free to pitch in,’ Laila said. ‘Maahi, we need to take this pitch seriously. Sarthak might be our investor.’

  ‘Seems like we need to take everything seriously, all the time,’ Maahi muttered.

  ‘If you don’t have investors in four years, maybe it wouldn’t be a good project for me to invest in,’ Sarthak said.

  ‘Yeah, well, we’ll make you,’ Laila said. ‘Now let’s go.’

  Maahi finished clearing away the broken glass and they followed Laila to her room. Sarthak sat down on the bed and Maahi and Laila pulled up the first slide of the OneNote presentation on her laptop.

  ‘Cookies + Cupcakes is—’ Maahi began.

  ‘Great name. Bravo,’ Sarthak nodded.

  ‘Shut up,’ Laila said.

  Maahi started over. ‘We see Cookies + Cupcakes as a speciality bakery that will change the way Delhiites look at bakeries. We offer innovation and experimentation, we use ingredients that are unheard of, especially here in India. These unconventional ingredients could be anything—from cucumber martini to whiskey ganache to cola! Apart from the standard menu with our own recipes, we also provide the customer an opportunity to make their own! Laila, remember to print out the menus before the meeting,’ Maahi said, and turned back to Sarthak. ‘They can customize their own cupcakes on the spot, picking and choosing cupcake flavours and toppings from our list. For cookies, it’s slightly different, because it takes time, we’ll take orders in advance.’

  ‘Of course, we will also act as consultants to help people choose the best combinations,’ Laila said. ‘We’ll have algorithms to serve as virtual consultants on the website, which we believe is a great platform for Cookies + Cupcakes. Customers can take the two-minute bake my cookie slash bake my cupcake quiz and mark the flavours they like, the ones they have or haven’t tried and other such questions. Our system will automatically generate a list of flavours based on the customers’ choices and whether they are looking for something similar or want to experiment.’

  ‘And is this website live now?’ Sarthak asked.

  ‘We’re looking to outsource website development and management, once we have funding to get started. We have been baking from home and building a name for ourselves for the past one year. We have a Facebook page and a Pinterest profile and we’ve received a very encouraging response from our customers. We have tie-ups with three coffee shops in Delhi/NCR. They stock our products. We are planning to launch the website and the physical store around the same time. The website could be live for a week before the store, so that people can place their orders and we can have the orders for our first batch of customers ready and showcased,’ Maahi said.

  Laila pitched in, ‘Our passion for baking and penchant for experimentation drove us to create Cookies + Cupcakes. I’m taking care of the cookies exclusively, and Maahi will be in charge of cupcakes. We, of course, have these boxes of samples for you, from our main menu.’

  ‘And these boxes here have cupcakes of different flavours and a selection of toppings, if you’d like to try and experiment. Moving on to the market opportunity—Delhi is a city of food lovers. There is no specific demographic we are targeting, because everyone gets a cookie.’ Maahi smiled, and continued, ‘But if we had to guess, we believe the younger crowd would be more interested in Cookies + Cupcakes. We are looking for spaces in South Delhi, somewhere near the Hauz Khas, Greater Kailash area, places our demographic likes to visit.’

  ‘Our customer would be—’ Laila began, but was interrupted by a phone ringing. ‘Whose is it?’

  ‘It’s mine,’ Maahi said, pulling it out of her jeans’ pocket. ‘Unknown number.’

  ‘Ignore it. Unless it’s someone calling back about investment.’

  ‘At nine on a Tuesday night?’

  ‘Just take it,’ Laila said, and turned towards Sarthak, raising her hand up. ‘Pause.’

  ‘Hello?’ Maahi said into the phone.

  ‘Maahi,’ the voice from the other end said. Maahi skipped a heartbeat. She looked at Sarthak, who raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Who is it?’ Laila asked.

  Maahi shook her head and hung up the phone. He sounded the same. Her name from his mouth took her back five years—the first time she had told him her name and he had repeated it. ‘Maahi … Beautiful.’ She still remembered that night. It still gave her chills.

  She had heard Kishan was back in town, and he had tried to contact her through his cousin. Maahi’s friend who had introduced them in the first place, whom she hadn’t been in touch with in years. He had managed to get her number from somewhere. In theory, when Maahi thought of Kishan moving back to Delhi, it didn’t affect her. Enough time had passed. But she still felt the air knocked out of her lungs when she heard him say her name.

  ‘Maahi? What’s up?’ Laila asked.

  Her phone rang again. Maahi stared at the number for
a second, almost picking up again, but didn’t. She turned her phone on silent and slipped it back into her pocket. ‘Where were we?’

  ‘Who was that?’ Laila asked.

  Maahi shrugged.

  ‘What happened? Tell me. You don’t look so good.’

  ‘Nothing, Laila. I’m fine. Let’s resume the presentation. We’re still at—what—market opportunity?’

  ‘Was that Kishan?’ Sarthak asked. Both Maahi and Laila looked at him. ‘It was, wasn’t it?’

  Maahi nodded.

  ‘Kishan, the asshole ex-boyfriend Kishan?’ Laila asked.

  ‘Yes. What did he want?’ Sarthak asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him, as you both saw. Now can we please move on?’ Maahi said, her face tight. ‘I’m sorry. But please, I’d like to finish the presentation.’

  And so they did. They followed their script, Maahi slipping once or twice, distracted but fighting it hard. They didn’t talk about Kishan at all. Maahi didn’t understand her reaction, and was in no mood to contemplate, so she tried not to dwell on it.

  After they finished the presentation, they heard out Sarthak’s comments—they were mostly compliments and, therefore, unproductive. He was sold at the idea as soon as they said Cookies + Cupcakes; he hadn’t needed much more. He did say that bringing actual product samples and letting the investors customize their own cupcakes was inspired. He also thought that seeing the actual menu, flyers and business cards would further add to the charm of the bakery.

  ‘I’ll work on the menu more tonight,’ Maahi said. ‘I’m not sure about the colour template we’re using. I’ll try a few new things tonight and we can go over them tomorrow before getting them printed?’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Laila said. ‘I’ll get going then.’

  ‘See you tomorrow.’

  Laila watched Maahi keenly and said, ‘Yes, good night. And good work; you were great, with everything. I’m proud of us.’

  ‘Me too. Proud of you guys, I mean.’ Sarthak chuckled to himself. ‘I’m proud of myself too, generally, but not sure that’s the kind of thing you’re interested in.’

  Laila glared at him.

  ‘I’m going to bounce now. Good talk.’

  After Sarthak left, Laila turned to Maahi. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yep.’

  Laila waited for a second, but when Maahi didn’t say anything, she bent down and gave her a tight squeeze. ‘I’ll go then. Give me a call if you need anything, okay?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Laila ruffled her hair and left. Maahi watched her walk away and her thoughts immediately went back to Kishan, as if they’d been waiting for her to be alone, to attack her. She took out her phone again. There were no more calls from him.

  Maahi ran to the balcony of their third-floor apartment and peeked down. ‘Laila, wait!’ she yelled. Laila looked up, car keys in hand, lights blinking on her black i20. ‘Hold on, just one second.’

  Maahi went back in and shoved a toothbrush and some clothes in her handbag before running downstairs.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Sarthak called out from the living room.

  ‘Siddhant’s. Tell mom I’m staying at Laila’s to prepare for Thursday’s meeting.’

  ‘You got it.’

  Maahi called Siddhant from the car. He was home, but was on standby. He might have to go on call in the middle of the night. Maahi didn’t care, as long as she got to see him; it was better than not seeing him at all. Just hearing his voice over the phone helped her relax.

  ‘I’ll try not to get irritated by your smile,’ Laila said, looking ahead at the dark road as she drove.

  ‘How generous. Thanks.’ Maahi hadn’t realized she had been smiling.

  ‘Although I would say—that smile is dumb and stupid and annoying and it pisses me off. But. I’m glad that you’re happy. Always liked that guy. Wasn’t sure he had it in him to step up and actually propose. I like being surprised every once in a while.’

  ‘He didn’t really propose.’

  ‘He did, for all practical purposes. Did you want an American rom-com with a ring and champagne and roses?’ Laila laughed, shaking her head. ‘No, sweetheart. You’ll get a long and possibly fruitless battle with both your parents just to get permission to marry each other. So let’s call this an engagement.’

  16

  They were in the most difficult and crucial slide of their pitch presentation deck. The asking-for-money part. They delivered the first eight slides well and the response from Mr Jindal and his two associates sitting in on the meeting seemed favourable. They had discussed all their hopes and plans enthusiastically. It was time to ask for the funds that would actually make it happen.

  ‘This is a specialty service bakery, and we’re planning for a sit-down space. Any and all scaling-up in the future will be in terms of opening more branches, not expanding the services themselves. We will be open to ideas and exploring more, as long as we stick to the core vision. After all, we’re all about experimentation—that’s how this started. But we would like to experiment within the realms of cookies and cupcakes,’ Maahi wrapped up her part.

  Laila was taking the lead on the financials. She began, ‘As Maahi said, we’re looking to invite people into our bakery, so we’ll need commercial sit-down space, apart from a commercial kitchen space. The start-up cost—which includes: 1) the projected cost for such a space in South Delhi—we’re considering Hauz Khas Village for calculation purposes 2) the one-time cost of equipment and appliances like refrigerator and ovens and smaller items such as pans and utensils, and 3) seed money to live on while the business gets established—is enclosed in the folders in front of you.’

  Maahi began talking about the competition as their potential investors flipped through their files. After they finished presenting, they were asked to wait while Mr Jindal discussed it with his colleagues.

  ‘So?’ Maahi asked Laila when they came out to the waiting area.

  ‘I think that went well. Don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah. I screwed up a bit when talking about the revenue model. Thanks for taking over there.’

  ‘Nah, it’s all good. I’m pretty sure they didn’t notice. They looked impressed, right?’ Laila was shaking her legs, probably involuntarily, in anxiety.

  ‘Let’s sit down,’ Maahi said and pulled Laila to the chairs against the wall. ‘Mr Jindal seems kind enough. Can’t you just tell how smart he is, just by looking at him? If he does decide to invest in us, I think he’d be a good mentor, like Anil uncle. Both of them have invested in a restaurant before, so that’s kind of similar to a bakery.’

  ‘Mr Jindal has done a whole bunch of stuff. The other man is his lawyer-slash-friend. Who’s the woman?’

  Mr Jindal was a charming, tall, slightly overweight man in his late forties. He had smiling eyes that calmed Maahi’s nerves, but she didn’t let them mislead her—he was a clever businessman and definitely not as easily impressed as his body language suggested. His lawyer friend was older than him, Maahi guessed mid-fifties. There had also been a younger woman in the room with them. ‘Didn’t she introduce herself as Harshita Jindal? I assumed she was his daughter. Or somehow related to him. I don’t know. He might be too young to have a daughter that old.’

  ‘Yeah, she seems about your age. I’m guessing twenty-three? Twenty-four, maybe.’

  Just as they talked about her, Harshita came out, walking towards them. They stood up and met her midway.

  ‘Hey,’ Harshita said. ‘So, we discussed the business plan, and we’re definitely interested in working with you girls, with a few alterations. Would you like to come back in to discuss?’

  ‘Sure,’ Maahi said. She clutched Laila’s hand and pulled at it when Harshita turned around. Laila squeezed her hand back, as they followed Harshita into the conference room.

  ‘Please sit,’ Mr Jindal said, looking up as they entered. He pointed to the boxes of cookies and cupcakes and said, ‘I am impressed. We all are. Such talented young women. A
nd quite a solid business plan, I must say. Has anyone been mentoring you?’

  ‘Thank you, sir. Mr Anil Shukla has been guiding us and we’ve done our research and used that to develop these plans,’ Laila said.

  ‘Ah, Anil Shukla. I haven’t seen him in ages. He’s an old friend.’

  ‘He speaks very highly of you.’

  Mr Jindal guffawed. ‘You don’t have to lie to me. I’m sure that bastard has some indecent stories to tell!’

  ‘Seems like he has kept your secrets, sir.’ Maahi smiled and added, ‘We look forward to your mentorship. If there are certain things that could be done better using a different approach, we’re definitely open to discussing them.’

  ‘Good. We do have some suggestions. Let me share them with you quickly. First, we would like to start off with a counter service model, as opposed to a sit-down bakery. This would cut down cost significantly—to begin with, a smaller space would cost less, and we’d need less help for cleaning and management of the eating space and such. Think about it. It wouldn’t have a sizable negative impact on the sales. Second, think less Hauz Khas Village and more … newer areas—the ones that are on their way. Like Meherchand, or Shahpurjat. Greater Kailash is dead, so let’s not even go there. Third, we would like to take the website more seriously. As seriously as the physical store. As you said, your market is the younger crowd. They’re Internet savvy, and would definitely appreciate being able to order online. Which brings me to my fourth point, home delivery. I see sense in investing in that as opposed to sitting space—a far more lucrative model. And my final point, Maahi—you mentioned that you would drop out of college?’ Mr Jindal looked at her.

  ‘Yes. That would help me direct all my energy towards this venture without distraction,’ Maahi said.

  ‘While that intention is commendable, we would like you to stay in college and finish your bachelor’s. There’s no replacement for education and this course in business economics can only help you with starting up a business, won’t you say?’

  Maahi fidgeted under his gaze. ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘It’s all about time management. I’m sure you’ll live,’ Mr Jindal said. ‘So, yes. Those are our suggestions and concerns.’