September’ 2003,
Midtown, Manhattan borough, NY City, NY.

He found a familiar car in the lot, seemed to be an expensive one. It confirmed on the presence of the Lieutenant at the station. He parked his hackney in the lot and walked inside the station.

As Aryan stepped in he had seen a person with round face and bald headed in his forties with thick eye brows and moustache, cleanly shaved but his complexion couldn’t help him look any better in the police uniform. The Lieutenant was sitting in his chair working on the files closely with a sub-ordinate. Aryan recognised him in no time. This is the same Lieutenant who frequently visited our home back then. He walks in; does the talking with Nemo sipping the coffee and disappears after a brief discussion lasting less then fifteen minutes. Aryan or Rekha never knew the reason for his periodic visits. Either the Hadars never took interests in the subject. It was inveterate on the kinsfolk to remain passive to the subjects until Nemo cared to let them know. Be that as it may, it had been a while for Aryan for a vivid understanding in why the cop made the visits.

“Hello officer Vincent,” Aryan greeted with his fully opened palm positioning it across the forehead. “You…?” the officer paused trying to remember who he was.

“Aryan,” he reintroduced and reminded himself to the policeman.

“Ah yes! Aryan,” he shook his head, “You looked familiar but I am sorry I couldn’t…” Aryan intervened. “No problem officer,” he said with a gripping voice.

“May I know what got you here?” asked the policeman.

“Your due diligence and impeccable loyalty to justice pleases me to pay a visit to your station,” Aryan sounded eerie to him manifesting his seriousness on his visage.

“If that is the case maybe we should talk it in private,” he said sensing a negative vibe in his presence at his desk in the open area, “I will take any appreciation or praise in private, walk with me” he said wending his way into a chamber few metres away from his seat.

He escorted Aryan into the private room and they sat in the luxurious Lawson. He called on one of the stewards to fetch the brandy from the cellaret, “How do like your wine?” he checked on Aryan. “In a glass,” Aryan uttered instantly. “I like brandy with champagne,” policeman continued with Aryan, “Champagne as cold as valley forge, with around three ponies of brandy under It,” he turned towards the steward, “Come on man, pour a decent one to the guest,” he then looked at Aryan and said, “I like to see people drink,” meanwhile the steward placed the glass on the teapoy.

“You may take off your coat,” the policeman said. “Thank you. I am doing fine with it on me,” Aryan said. “May I smoke? I enjoy the smell of it,” he said while Aryan was taking a glance at the orchids visible from the window. “You like orchids?” the policeman asked, “Not particularly,” Aryan uttered. “Nasty things!” he said and continued, “their flesh is like too much like flesh of men, and their perfume has the rotten sweetness of corruption,” Aryan intervened, “We have to admit that we read it in well verse.” Aryan wanted him to be in a state of out of his mind, to see him mentally out of the ordinary.

He grinned, “Sure we have to,” the policeman said, “so what is it the matter,” he finally brought the subject to the table.

“It’s about Anusha,” he said insinuating on the topic, “who was alleged for eloping on the day of her marriage with my father, Vivek”.

“I see. She was not alleged but she had actually eloped,” he responded in a staunch voice. “So what do you think? I have come all the way to listen to this obvious conviction.” Aryan said raising a doubt in his head.

“You mean, I am lying?” the policeman sounded undertone struggling to construct words. “We both know what the truth is, don’t we?” Aryan said trying to nail down the facts from the policeman. “Yes, and the truth is she eloped,” he repeated his answer.

“You made frequent visits to our home back then. Nemo had penned down in his diary that Anusha was murdered. Nemo knew this fact only after you enlightened him, Mr. Lieutenant Vincent Louis,” Aryan reminded him, “I believe that you have informed Nemo that you will take a stance to seize the miscreant. But I have never seen you in my vicinity after the death of my grandfather,” Aryan made him confined with his revelation.

He stammered, “I… I…. don’t re….re…remember, the…the….truth….is that she’s….” Aryan occluded, “officer, if you have got the same answer yet again. I would like you to mind that Riya, might exemplify the concept, elope. I would also like to bring it to your notice that my men at service had reached the vantage point at the state university”.

The policeman raised to his feet dropping the snifter, “Don’t you wanna play with my daughter’s life,” he was down on his knees, “I would oblige to tell you the facts from the murder only if you promise me to let my daughter be safe,”

Aryan wondered at his own behests that allowed the policeman to concur. I’ve never imagined my play would pluck the impetrations from the officer to get me answers for the unanswered questions. “Tell me everything you know and my men will do no harm to your daughter,” Aryan lied and the policeman was convinced.

“We had investigated the case and we did find the criminal”, he paused, “it’s… It’s…” he hesitated to tell who he was, Aryan pitched in, “I’ve got not enough time,” he warned him. “It’s Shikar”.

“What?” Aryan wasn’t surprised and carried on with a sip of wine, “Why did he kill her in the first place?” Aryan questioned.

“We found out it was Shikar but we never knew the reason. To bring it out into the open, I was ceased on my proceedings at the consummation. A week before Dayanand’s death, I was approached by a senior officer,” he said, “I was mandated to let Nemo know that the closure on the case would take a week. I had to intentionally make Dayanand believe that a misconception had peeped into the investigation. Exactly after a week, Dayanand was dead. Then the swiftness in the moments were at the best. I was assigned to a different case, in a manner I stepped out of the state of affairs. I presumed the senior officials had got something with the agreements about the case with Shikar or his comrades thereby killing the truth between the folks,”

“Anything else have you got to say?” Aryan asked and warned him, “don’t you wanna leave any trace unsaid. If I ever find it out in the later time, you have no idea on the repercussions”

“This is all I know, I swear.” he said in a low tone.

“Okay, I would need a favour,” Aryan cleared his throat, “Resume the investigation. Help me find out why Shikar did it to Anusha. Your work will not be left unpaid, you have my word from the Hadars,”

“I will be at my best to take the lead on the mystery to bring in more facts on the case,” the policeman confirmed on his liability.

“You better be on it,” Aryan shook hands with him, “Will meet with the time,” he said and walked out of the chamber.

September’ 2003,
GCP, Nassau County, NY.

Malcolm looked to be disappointed. His sad face said it all and Aryan was curious to know what had happened to him, “Mr. Malcolm, something wrong?” he checked on his intuition.

“Yeah, it’s the competition,” He confirmed climbing inside the car.

Though Aryan felt not to bring the talk on to the table for discussion he couldn’t allow himself to be tied down. Nearly after fifteen minutes of time in the journey, “May I ask what is the problem,” He looked back for a glimpse of him and continued, “…If you don’t mind,” he said. Hadn’t he asked Malcolm waldman after the brief period of silence, the days thereafter might had been different from the days that happened to him after he asked him about the problem.

“It’s a major one young man,” Malcolm took stance to give it a reason, “No company is willing to offer us the sponsorship,” he put the sadness into words, “not a single one. The university had no prior experience in FSAE, and the investors are afraid to sponsor the project.” He paused. Aryan made no attempt to interpose himself in the situation. Malcolm thought for a while and continued, “You have something to say Mr.”, and he was at his wit’s end. He didn’t know Aryan’s name. Since the day he started boarding his cab he had only addressed him with different names, young man, gentle man, tough boy, dude, buddy, the list never ended. Aryan took pleasure in being called by many names and went along with the appellations he choose to call him. The time has reached its zenith where Aryan had to introduce himself to him. “I am Tony”, Aryan said as he named himself at that very moment to hide the identity as a Hadar. His intention for a sobriquet other than the Hadar was not a haste instead it was thoughtful from Aryan.

“Yeah! Young man,” he reverted and didn’t mind not calling his name again, “you tell me. I agree that we don’t have prior experience but to gain experience we need a start. And to start we need a fund and to get the fund we need experience. And to have experience we need to start. You see dear? We go nowhere but circle around. When every company we approach has the same answer, how could we even start? How would one get to have that experience?” he was saddened by the bleared choices, “there are no window of opportunities buddy,” he said.

“You mean there is no way out?” Aryan enquired.

“I don’t think so. The present blurs my vision to foresee an answer. It is the time that will decide, I strongly believe that there exists a way out. There should be a solution for every problem in this world. There should definitely be a way out for this too,” He believed in his staunch.

“I agree with you,” Aryan opined to take a brief digression, “how are your students doing with the project?” he asked.

“So far so good. They are learning to take steps, it might take a while before they start running. They are yet to decide on the suspension system, the base for the vehicle,” he answered.

“Good to hear on it. By the way, which of the suspension are they planning on? Is it a double wishbone or push rod or pull rod?” Aryan walked himself into the perimeter by which Malcolm was taken by a little surprise, “oh boy! You know them?” He asked with a surmise.

“Yes sir,” an instant reply was shot from Aryan.

“Good. I presume we can safely speak the language,” he said.

“Ah! You bet,” Aryan uttered.

“We are planning for a push rod!” He replied.

“Oh but why?” Aryan enquired on the choice as he hold a different opinion.

“Because, the rolling resistance is convincing and the design is compact,” he said.

“But a double wishbone with its roll centre just above the ground can give you the best suspension geometry,” Aryan said, “It can give you the ease to design the geometry in the later stage of design.”

“Smart approach. Haven’t given it a much thought though. Did you have had any prior experience in this field?” he asked.

What should I say? Aryan asked himself, few days back he would have taken me for a fool if I said I had experience, and now what he would think? Let’s take it. He pushed his mettle.

“Yep, I did had exposure to the spare parts. In fact I have successfully designed a chassis with an excellent fatigue strength,” Aryan backed himself.

“Is it? It looks you have got a lot to enlighten me about. Where and when did you work on the chassis?” For the very first time Aryan felt that fate had intervened in his life. Aryan wasn’t prepared for Malcolm’s question and before he could answer him the hackney reached his stop, “Oh we reached… Alright young man, we will continue the talk tomorrow,” he said getting down the cab.

“Excuse me Prof. Malcolm,” Aryan called the aged man, “Yes,” he swivelled towards Aryan, “I know a way out,” Aryan said. “Sorry?” he asked. “Sponsorship, I know a way out,” Aryan voiced out hesitating. “You?” Malcolm said. It didn’t take him by surprise and instead looked at him with a hope, “what is it?” he checked on the notion.

“Will start tomorrow early morning, 6’0 clock. Trust me, I have a way out.” Aryan assured the aged man and Malcolm signed with his thumbs up.

In pursuit of a happy life, Aryan choose to consider things at their own pace. He didn’t wanted to hurry and later regret for what he had done. He rather intended to approach a situation or a problem naturally, as when the right time rolled in, he gave it a whacking blow, an accurate blow in a single shot.

---

Next morning… 06:00 Hrs…

“So gentle man, where are you taking me?” Malcolm climbed the car, “To the JAPMI,” Aryan said handing him over a material, “here is the card and the envelope,”

He got hold of the card, “Justin Amell, head of automation R&D, JAPMI”, he read it out, “who is he? How do you know him?” He questioned Aryan. “I don’t know him. One of my travel friend by name Mr. Aryan, just like you who took a hire of my cab back then knows Justin and as he said, they were close friends,” Aryan made up the content, “It is a long story how I have the visiting card and to cut it short, on a busy day on his calendar, Aryan dropped his wallet in my cab and the card was slipped out. I’ve returned the wallet in the next hour on the same day but the card, it was underneath the back seat and I found it a couple of days later when I was at the car wash. When he boarded my cab the following day, I let him know of my finding but he shrugged it off. So, it was always there with me and that’s how I got to know of JAPMI and Justin as well. I’ve never imagine that I would make a good use of it but it somehow made it to reach me for a purpose,”

“Don’t you think we should go meet Aryan first before we head to JAPMI for the head?” he lacked in certainty.

“Mr. Aryan left the city. I had him driven to the airport on the day of his final ride in my cab. He informed me of his unavailability thereafter and so…” Aryan clarified his scepticism and also added, “Oh… it was outta my sight. Please do mention that you are friend of Aryan. Just in case the head asks for any details, tell him you are a pen friend.”

“No worries Boy! I will look into it,” Malcolm assured him.

“You may want to get some sleep. We have a big day ahead,” Aryan said. “Uh-huh,” Malcolm replied dozing off.

It’s been a few days by then Aryan had found out the unsolved mystery of Anusha’s death. He took the opportunity for making an inquest in the sojourn to his hometown. The time now seems to be right to dig in deep about the mystery Aryan thought. He had made up his mind the previous night to meet with the inspector who had investigated the case back then under the invocation of Dayanand. It was Friday early in the morning the duo started driving to the home city. That was the first time ever Aryan left home without an intimation of the purpose to Rekha. But for all that, Shalini was aware where he was leaving for. Shalu will take care of mom, if she feels worried of my late arrival. I will drop the professor at the industry and I will lead my way to the police station. That’s the itinerary for the day.

August’ 2003,
Garden City Park, Nassau County, NY.

It’s been few months since Aryan ran the hackney. It was a singular day for him as he was in the state of buying a television for Rekha. Before he left for the store to do the purchasing he had got a line of routine pick up and drop job. A couple of weeks ago Aryan had met with a professor who worked at the local state university.

It was a conventional morning in the day for Aryan, waiting for the mob who would take a hire of his cab. A man in his fifties approached Aryan for a ride to his work place. Since the first day of drop, the aged man met with Aryan regularly at the same location and chartered his hackney to his workplace. Like it always had been the case with Aryan, in no time the aged man had become friends with him. Nearly after fifteen consecutive trips Aryan made a proposal to hire his cab on daily basis so that he could have the minimum assured returns from his driving at the end of the day. The aged man agreed up on Aryan’s earnest request and since then he had been driving him.

“Hello Mr. Malcolm, you are late today,” Aryan asked. “Ironically, I woke up late after a long time” he replied.

“Ironic?” Aryan enquired. “Aged man don’t sleep for long,” Malcolm replied.

“Uh-huh! Why don’t you take rest back at home, after all you have been working for almost?” Malcolm intervened, “close to thirty,” “Yeah for apparently thirty years and so you already have your son working”, Aryan said.

“I have worked in an MNC for so long, nearly twenty five years. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher but I couldn’t be. The state of affairs demanded me to pursue a career in an MNC,” he said recollecting from his past, “now that my son looks after the family. I could courageously resign my job to take my loved profession. So, I am not working, I am enjoying what I am doing now and I am happy about it”. Aryan had seen himself in Malcolm for a moment when he heard him say of his feelings over the vocation. He recalled the instances from Dayanand’s guest house where he told Jenny the same words.

“Mr. Waldman, you just put a tape on my lips,” Aryan said. “Never mind young man,” he laughed, “is there something else you wanted to know about?” He asked.

“Not for now,” Aryan said hesitatingly. He paused for a few minutes before he enquired his proceedings at the university, “Mr. Malcolm, yesterday when I was picking you at the university, I have seen students talking to you about the FSAE”,

“Oh yeah, they wanted to build a formula car for a competition. That is FSAE,”

I knew it Mr. Malcolm, all I want is how I can work for that project was the thought running in his mind. How should I break the bar and ask him about it? How do I buy his trust? How do I tell him that I have worked on it and been successful in the leading part of the project? A taxi driver, had been successful in building a chassis? Who would believe? I have no evidence to show him on my capabilities. People would consider me to be a fool If say it in the air. They don’t believe my words, they believe in my appearance and what I do. Aryan remained silent while he was brooding over his notion until Malcolm interrupted his thoughts. Malcolm continued, “In fact I am one of the chief of the board of charge committee for the project. They were talking to me about the endowment facilities and other issues with the fabrication. It seems we reached the entrance. Will talk it over the return journey young man” He said.

“Sure thing,” Aryan said in an utter disappointment. It felt disheartened that he couldn’t bring it in the open on his interests on the project. “See you dear”, Malcolm waldman said and walked into the university while Aryan drove to the store to get home the much fancied commodity.