Major Rajput was promoted and awarded a Vasisht Seva Medal for his bravery.
34
April 2016
PILANI
‘What do you think of Bitcoin, sir?’ a student stood up and asked Aditya. He was at BITS Pilani, attending APOGEE, the annual technology festival organized by the students of the college. Aditya Kesavan was the star speaker. Over six hundred students had squeezed into the auditorium, which on a normal day would have accomodated not more than three hundred and fifty.
Aditya had spoken to the students about financial sector reforms, and the role of the RBI in curtailing inflation and assisting the government in their growth agenda. He also spoke about how the financial system in India was robust and not prone to shocks from events outside the country. It was a truly enthusing talk. After all, this was where Aditya was most comfortable – back in the midst of students.
‘What do I think of Bitcoin?’ Aditya now responded to the question the student had posed during the last part of his speech – the Q&A section. ‘Well, how do I put it …’ he paused, choosing his words carefully. ‘Bitcoin something we cannot wish away. But they are not the future. However, something like Bitcoin is definitely going to drive the future – at least an improved, safer and slightly controlled version of it. The technology behind Bitcoin is something which will be integral to financial services in days to come. It worries me a bit because proliferation of virtual currency will take away the ability of the central bank to control supply of money in an economy. It will create a world without borders, which has its own challenges as well as benefits. That said, it is something we should not shy away from. It is something we need to embrace. This technology will drive us in days to come. Whether we want to drive it or be swept away by it is a choice we have to make.’ The moment he finished his answer, there was thunderous applause in the auditorium. He was talking to a young crowd – a crowd that was comfortable with using technology, a crowd that was full of Bitcoin fans.
The next day’s newspaper carried the headline – ‘Reserve Bank Governor Bats for Bitcoin.’
₹
Siddharth Pande was not happy with the morning’s headline. He was a known Bitcoin baiter. The government’s stance on Bitcoin was quite contrary to what the Governor had said. At various points in the past, the government had issued circulars cautioning the public against Bitcoins. Ranjeet Kumar sent Aditya a text that day – ‘Even if you do not want to toe the government line on a few strategic issues, the FM expects that you do not contradict him by taking a diametrically opposite stance. It embarrasses the FM and the government.’
It didn’t take long for Aditya to realize what was being said here. ‘It was a private session for tech students. It was not supposed to be a media event, he responded.’
‘Nothing you ever say or do is private. Am surprised someone needs to tell you that,’ came the secretary’s answer.
Aditya was not one to give up. He immediately replied, ‘While I agree that speakers need to be more careful with words, listeners too need to place words in context to understand the intent.’
‘Tell that to the Prime Minister,’ Ranjeet wrote back.
Aditya didn’t want to get into a pissing match with the man, but there was something about this that bugged him. Why was it that the FM always communicated with him through Ranjeet? It was a question he didn’t have an answer to. But every such instance drove the wedge between him and those in the government, particularly the FM, even deeper.
35
April 2016
MUMBAI
‘So, how much did you pay?’ Vicky Malhotra asked when he met Mehul Modi for a drink that evening.
‘Pay for?’
‘Tiara, of course.’
‘Do you really want to know?’ Mehul Modi asked. And without waiting for him to react, added, ‘Well, we paid half a billion for the entire transaction.’
‘You bought Tiara for half-a-billion dollars? Are you kidding me?’
‘Why do you say that?’ Mehul asked.
‘Don’t you think you’ve paid a tad too much?’
‘Well, no. If you consider the actual outflow,’ Mehul said. Vicky Malhotra raised his eyebrows.
‘We paid half a billion. How much of that went to the sellers is something you can guess. You know the value of the company,’ Mehul continued.
‘Well, with all the stock they normally have in hand, it won’t be more than $ 300-350 million. You paid a lot more than you needed to.’
‘Hmm … what else do you do when you need money in the UK?’ Mehul asked.
‘But then paying extra is not …’ Malhotra began and then suddenly stopped. After rolling his eyes, he waved his hand in the air. ‘How could I have missed it! You used the transaction to send your money out of the country? Smart. Very smart. Was the transation funded by someone?’
‘PNB funded it,’ Mehul said.
‘So you got Punjab National Bank to pay half a billion for a transaction that cost you $ 300 million, and routed the money back from Tiara in an overseas account.’
‘I can’t confirm anything,’ Mehul said, smiling.
Vicky was impressed. ‘I need to learn the tricks of the trade from you. A lot of money that I am getting from the Suyog Gold scheme is in cash. I need to move that money overseas before someone figures it out and informs the government, and they come sniffing after me.’
‘I will get it done for you, but everything comes at a price,’ Mehul said, direct as always.
‘I knew it.’ Vicky Malhotra smiled. ‘I knew it all along. There was something hidden behind this gracious offer of yours. Out with it.’ And he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table.
‘I want Pallavi to model for us,’ Mehul said. ‘Our jewellery will look fabulous on her. She will be ideal. In any case, we don’t compete with you. And today she is the best-known face in this trade.’
Vicky was not entirely comfortable with this proposition and decided to buy some time. ‘I see. Well, it is her decision. I will have to ask her,’ he said.
‘Fine, then. Day after tomorrow evening. Same time, same place. Let me know your decision,’ Mehul said and called for the cheque.
36
March–April 2016
MUMBAI
Their rendezvous at the Taj in Delhi had given Pallavi and Aditya a taste of what could be and soon, they started meeting clandestinely whenever they got an opportunity. Pallavi would drive all the way from her home in Juhu to Palladium, an upmarket shopping mall in central Mumbai. With her face suitably covered with a scarf to make sure that no one identified her, she would wait in the parking lot. Aditya would drive into the parking lot, pick her up and drive back to his Carmichael Road residence. A staircase in his parking led directly to the first floor, where Aditya’s room was. That made sure that none of the servants in the house noticed what they were up to. Or so they thought.
‘I don’t know why I crave you so much,’ said Pallavi one day, after another intense session in his bedroom.
‘Yes, after all, I don’t think I am that great in bed. A woman like you can have anyone she wants,’ Aditya said, trying to sound modest. ‘Why me then?’
‘You know Aditya, you might be the greatest guy in the world of finance, but you don’t understand women. It is not about what you do in bed but what you make a woman feel when you are with her that is more important. That look in your eyes when you are with me makes me feel desired and younger. It makes me feel like I deserve love and admiration, and that I deserve you. Your intellectual curiosity attracted me to you, but your ability to make me feel special makes me stay with you. It is so strange, Adi, that I met you just a week after I married Vicky. What if I had met you a week earlier?’ she wondered, reaching out to kiss his lips.
Suddenly, they heard some noise that sounded like it was coming from the living room downstairs. Pallavi froze.
‘Sounds like Dad has come back,’ Aditya said.
‘Oh my god! How will I leave without
him seeing me?’ Pallavi was panicking.
‘Don’t worry. He never comes up. Both my parents spend most of their time in their room downstairs. Mom cannot climb the stairs, and dad doesn’t leave her side. If they need anything, they call out for me,’ Aditya reassured her and gave her a kiss.
A couple of hours later, Aditya stealthily escorted Pallavi out of the house, into his car and dropped her to her car at Palladium.
37
June 2016
MUMBAI
The Suyog Gold scheme had become a money spinner for Pallavi and Vicky. In a matter of months, they had raised six hundred crores. The media eventually took note of it and in no time, Vicky was being hailed as the next big thing in trade circles. Interviews and press releases had become the order of the day. He even made it to the cover of Business Today. Tiara hadn’t got him even close to the kind of fame Suyog Gold was bringing him.
Vicky was in the bar in JW Marriott, talking with some producers about the possibility of producing a film starring Pallavi, when his phone rang. It was Mehul Modi. He excused himself, walked to a quiet corner and picked up the call.
‘Vicky, I have been seeing the media coverage on you and your business. Take this as some unsolicited advice. In the work that you are in, it is better to let the business speak for itself and keep a low profile. The moment the spotlight is on you, people begin to come after you.’
‘So says Mehul Modi, who has hoardings splashed all over the countryside.’ Vicky scoffed.
‘Look, Vicky, my business is designer jewellery. And in that business, one has to be seen. You would know this because you ran Tiara. But it’s different in your case. You deal with a lot of small-time customers. The riff-raff. So if you become too big, the vultures will come calling. You are letting yourself become vulnerable. Take this as sincere advice from a well-wisher – pull back your PR firm from promoting you as an individual. Let Suyog Gold run itself.’
‘Thanks for the advice, Mr Modi. Will be sure to keep it in mind,’ Vicky said in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
Mehul didn’t seem to mind. ‘In any case,’ he continued, ‘your gold scheme may not be completely legal. Some day, someone will wake up. And that day, my friend, you will be in trouble.’ He hung up without bothering to wait for Vicky’s response.
Despite himself, Vicky felt shaken. It had been a strange conversation. Was Mehul genuinely concerned, or was he just feeling threatened by Vicky’s success? Or was he peeved that Pallavi had refused to endorse his brand? Curious, Vicky swallowed some of his pride and decided to call Mehul back. There was no response.
38
June–July 2016
VENEZUELA/MUMBAI
It’s common knowledge that Indians love gold. Everything from the birth of a child and marriage, to religious offerings and bonus payouts calls for the buying of gold. In fact, a significant part of the national savings is held as gold. Over four thousand tonnes of gold is locked up in temples and places of worship, while over fifteen thousand tonnes of gold is locked up as savings in various households. To meet the local demand, Indians annually import over a thousand tonne of gold from various countries around the world.
This national obsession with gold suited Vicky Malhotra very well. But unknown to him, there were deals being made halfway around the globe that would have a game -changing impact on his business.
Gen (Retd.) Nestor Marquez, the Defence Minister of Venezuela, was closeted with the Army Chief and a few loyalists from the Gabinete De Ministros (Cabinet of Ministers) at an unknown location on the outskirts of Caracas, the country’s capital. On the agenda was a plan to overthrow President Nicholas Maduro and take control of the administration, along with the vast oil resources. In the next hour, the loyalists of the General would march to the presidential quarters and detain the President. Gen Marquez expected it to be a bloodless coup – a smooth transition of power, with him taking over the reins of the country.
The General was right. There was not an iota of resistance from anyone around the President as he was arrested and taken to an undisclosed location. The country was shut down to prevent any sort of infiltration by friends of the previous government.
But the event did have an unexpected fallout. In the global market, the Venezuelan crisis led to a spurt in the price of crude oil. Oil imports constituted the largest foreign-exchange outflow for India. And with oil prices going up, the foreign exchange outflow started increasing. This sudden demand for the US dollar led to a spurt in the price of the dollar, with it rising to almost Rs. 70 to a dollar. A kind of panic took hold of the forex market, and the stock market was not far behind. It mirrored the drop in the price of the Indian rupee and fell sharply – almost like a bottomless pit. All the foreign institutional investors (FIIs) that had brought in money started pulling out. This in turn put a tremendous amount of pressure on the Indian rupee and set off a vicious cycle – an already stressed rupee fell even more sharply against the dollar. A conversion rate of ₹70 to a dollar looked like a certainty. And all of this happened in the matter of a week.
The current account deficit (CAD), which is the difference between exports and imports at a national level, rose at an alarming pace, largely because export revenue was static while the import bill grew rapidly because of high crude prices. The government was staring at a current account deficit of almost 4.5 per cent of the GDP. This made everyone in the government jittery, more so because the impact of such adverse movements in the macro economic parameters would take a long time to fix.
The Finance Ministry stepped in to stem the slide, but didn’t make much of a dent. The RBI and a few banks sold dollars in the forex market to make sure that the price of the Indian rupee held against the dollar, but that too had little impact. The rupee was in free fall.
In the midst of all this, the next edition of the IPL began.
39
June–July 2016
MUMBAI
Biswaroop Datta the GM of Sofitel Hotel in Bandra Kurla Complex, turned the steering wheel of his JaguarXF and entered through the staff gate of the hotel. It was two a.m. and untill a few hours back, he had been in bed, fast asleep. But a telephone call from his hotel reception had woken him up. ‘It’s the police,’ they had said.The lobby of the hotel was teeming with media personnel, television cameras, curious onlookers and at least thirty constables from the Mumbai police. He knew what the issue was. He had been briefed. He walked to the banquet hall in the basement where the Commissioner of Mumbai police was holding fort with three others from his team.
‘Good evening sir, I am Biswaroom Datta, the GM of the hotel,’ he introduced himself to the cop. ‘What can I do to help?’
‘Well, we have done what we wanted to do. We are just waiting for the lawyers to arrive,’ the Commissioner responded.
At that very instant, the door flew open and Vicky Malhotra stormed in. ‘How could you ...’ he began, and then, realizing that he had a room full of people watching him, fell silent. He spotted Biswaroop and the Commissioner, both men he recognized. Quietly, he approached them. ‘What actually happened, Commissioner?’ he asked. This time, his tone was polite and his demeanour submissive.
‘Sanat Rao, your team’s Vice Captain. We have seized cash from his room. Twenty lakhs in hard cash.’
‘The last I knew, holding cash is not a crime,’ Malhotra argued. ‘I am sure Sanat has an explanation for it.’ He looked at the Commissioner, whose face had an amused expression, but Vicky went on. ‘You have people in this country holding much more cash than that,’ he said.
‘Cut out the sarcasm, Mr Malhotra. We have been tapping his phones for the last three weeks,’ the Commissioner said. ‘We have recorded conversations of him fixing matches involving your team. We have evidence that he has done this on at least three occasions. We suspect he did the same last year. You lost two very close matches, which decided your fate. Those two matches almost ensured that you didn’t make it to the play-offs. Both those losses had one thing in common – a
n eventful over bowled by this man had turned the tide against you. He is part of a betting racket. We have evidence against him. He has been bowling no-balls at predetermined points in the game, and wides at will. Two other players in your team have turned because he influenced them. Both have been arrested, picked up from their respective homes about half an hour back.’
‘How sure are you about this?’ Vicky asked the Commissioner, knowing fully well that the latter was not obliged to tell him.
‘Well, the evidence is damning. We have a warrant to arrest them. Non-bailable.’
Vicky ran his fingers through his hair. How the hell had this happened? Things were suddenly beginning to collapse around him. The MyBestDeal.com fiasco was not yet over and already, there was this new storm to deal with. He thanked his good luck with Suyog Gold, which seemed to be the only silver lining.
₹
The media descended like vultures on Telengana Tigers. The scandal dominated the headlines the next day. Every channel worth its salt was running the story. Sanat Rao, the pace-bowling sensation of the country was, in the blink of an eye, repackaged as the national villain.
Vicky Malhotra was locked up at home, switching from one news channel to the other, wondering what was in store for him. Sanat Rao was a key member of his team, the star. The team rode on him. Without Sanat’s star appeal and his effective and ferocious bowling, they stood nowhere. The stress showed on his face and Pallavi, who was sitting beside him, put a hand on his arm. ‘It’s okay, darling,’ she said. ‘This shall pass. He is just one rotten apple. The rest of your team is intact.’
‘I don’t know why these guys can’t just do things carefully. Do what you have to do, but don’t get caught. It’s that simple,’ he said. The worry on his face turned to anger. ‘The problem with greed is that one doesn’t realize where to draw the line,’’
Don't Tell the Governor Page 10
