ERROR CODE:: ** LOVE **

SRISHTI PUBLISHERS & DISTRIBUTORS

N-16, C. R. Park

New Delhi 110 019

editorial@srishtipublishers.com

First published by

Srishti Publishers & Distributors in 2014

Second impression 2014

Copyright © Suman Bhattacharya, 2014

All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

The author asserts the moral right to be identifited as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the Publishers.

Typeset by Eshu Graphic

To the compromising, yet fighting; traditional,

yet rebellious; broken, yet optimistic; sleeping,

yet awakening; struggling, yet surviving…

Indian Youth

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Oops! Fasten Your Seatbelts!

The more IT, the less I see

A black Sunday – Face your damn fear

Dev’s Journal Archives 1

AUGUST 2004 - When me and I met myself

NOVEMBER 2004 - Money, Merit and other skills I lacked

FEBRUARY 2005 - Jealousy, the first sign of love?

Going back to hell

Choosing to remember- A journey

Do you remember, my love?

Love is blind; Friendship closes its eyes

Love one, trust none, do wrong to everyone

Dev’s Journal Archives 2

JULY 2006 - Hearts are made to be broken

AUGUST 2006 - Curing Evil with Evil

FEBRUARY 2007 - A cheat code for Love

The invisible scars

Forgive, but don’t forget

Back to where it all started

Love and other irreversible mistake(s)

Dev’s Journal Archives 3

MARCH 2008 - The final lie

APRIL 2008 - Those 72 hours, an unforgivable sin

The first step to a thousand miles

Friends- the family we earn

A bit like illness; a lot like love

The first touch, the last kiss?

I was holding on; I let it go

The formula of Love - there’s none!

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Every time we commence on a new journey, the first and final steps are taken by us. But on the way, there are hands that hold you, touches that comfort you and faces that give you courage and determination. A journey is a collective effort of numerous bodies and minds. People named herein helped me pledge, nurture and complete the journey of creating Error Code Love.

My wife Karpur for her trust on this crazy software engineer who wouldn’t socialize or sleep for months. For being patient and supportive while I pursued my wildest dream of penning my story. My parents for making me what I am today. I owe my love for literature completely to my mother. My sister Soma for being my book buddy, reviewer and very own critic.

The entire Srishti team for their enthusiasm, creativity and support in every step of publishing. My first editor Manika Garg for adding sophistication to my rather colloquial English. Author, editor and friend R W Jensen for her proficient editing bits on my manuscript.

Author and cousin Sujata Massey for her encouraging feedback and priceless suggestions. My niece Sudatta for her blind faith on my manuscript. My friend and colleague Gautam Amin for being a friend who I can look up to.

My cover designer Wasim Helal for an excellent cover design. Artist and friend Sakshi Garg for making my characters come alive through her illustrations.

My company Adobe and my teammates for always being supportive and willing to help with anything. My college friends – this book is my humble tribute to those wonderful four years I spent with you. My Facebook page followers – thanks to each of you for inspiring me through all my ups and downs.

Finally, thanks to you. Yes, you! The one who is reading this right now. You’re generously gifting a few precious hours of your life to a young author’s first creation. You’re transforming his dream into reality. You’re a true wizard, my friend. I hope you enjoy reading my book.

No more commercials. It’s time. Sit back, relax and enjoy the ride! Welcome to the world of Dev.

PROLOGUE

I have been expelled from my college; a charge of sexual harassment.

Along with a year of college, I lost all my friends. My family is ashamed of me. All within the last seventy-two hours.

I pray I will wake up and it will just be a nightmare. Or I can use technology to build a time machine. I would give anything to reverse the clock and make it all right. But my Karma won’t let me. I have to make amends for what I have done.

My mind replays the trauma, the mistake. I go through it again and again. Every time I close my eyes I am in a dark room sitting on the floor beside my bed. Mom opens the door and walks to me.

What have you done? she asks.

And every cell of body cries in pain, I’ve made a terrible mistake Mom. It’s all over. My life, my career, my education, my relationship, everything is over.

But that is not the beginning of my story. Once I was just like you. I wanted to be successful, a good son with a college degree. I wanted a happy and average life with a great girlfriend. I almost had it all. Almost.

But one day every thing changed. I messed up. I loved.

I’m not a hero … and this is my story.

1

OOPS! FASTEN YOUR SEATBELTS!

The story of our life is about one perfect moment. That moment is something we strive for. A yes, a nod or an eye blink can make you run a thousand miles if it gets you to that. We rejoice, fight, laugh and cry, but through everything we still want to live that moment again and again. Whether you gain or miss it, you will try for yet another hundred years and make the same commitments and mistakes to get that one moment back .

Sir? Sir? Can you please put your seat in the upright position? We’ll be landing soon.

I stopped writing, Sure. Not certain if she heard that. She had already moved on to the next passenger. I closed my journal and looked out of the window. What a beautiful sunny afternoon!

Welcome to Bengaluru International Airport. The temperature outside…

This part of a flight amuses me every time. I don’t understand the hurry people are in to get off the plane. My thought process was interrupted as a man and a woman started pushing at me to gain a few precious seconds in getting off the plane. Most likely they didn’t want to miss the fun the others were having all crammed up in the aisle. I made way for them and switched on my phone. Lots of missed call alerts and one message, all from the same number!

Hey Champ! Welcome to Bengaluru. Sorry I couldn’t come to airport. I have to complete some work today. I’ll see you in the evening.

With my track record, only one person in the universe would call me ‘champ.’ That had to be Isha. Hearing from her sure felt good. I’d be meeting her today after a long time.

Coming out from the luggage area I tried to call Rishi. At least Isha remembered I was arriving today. That idiot didn’t even bother to check with me. On the third try, he picked up.

Hey Dev! I am off to lunch now. Let me call you later.

I couldn’t find the appropriate foul language to scold this man, my best friend, who promised to meet me at the airport.

I controlled my anger. What’s your address? It’s Jayanagar right? There was some main, cross, block, colony; lots of things. What should I tell the cabbie?

There was a long pause on the other side. Yes, now he was downloading the data. Hey Man! I am so sorry …Don’t worry, I am coming in 15…no, 45 minutes.

It’s ok. You’ve already done enough. Just sms me the address. I kept my tone emotionless.

Sure buddy. Sending right away! Take the key from the owner on the ground floor. Ours is on second. Welcome to…

I disconnected. Enough of this drama! Time to get moving.

Airport cab facilities were non-happening at the Bengaluru Airport, unlike my hometown, Kolkata. There you would be immediately surrounded by cab drivers who would try to grab your attention by raising their voice. And if you were still undecided for more than a few minutes, they would try and help you with the luggage so you might end up playing a baggage tug-of-war with them.

This cab driver seemed pretty serious about his work. When I asked him about Jayanagar, he answered ‘Jayanagar.’ Nonplussed, I asked him a couple more questions. But I got the same answer, ‘Jayanagar.’ I understood either he was not that good with Hindi or he was like a RoboCab programmed only to help passengers reach their destination. No wonder Bengaluru is the hub of the Information Technology revolution in our country.

While entering the main city, I noticed a couple of things. The first was the attractive neighbourhood consisting of a perfect combo of multiple commercial, industrial setups and scenic parks. The second was the weather. The end of April is already peak summer in most parts of India, still I felt a perfect spring day on the breeze. I liked it already. This city might not come off as lively as other metro cities, but the 'Silicon Valley of India’ had a charm of its own.

Welcome buddy. Rishi shouted at me, Have some vada & idlis. Try to get a taste of South India.

I looked up. Rishi looked exactly the same as I remembered; short hair cut, skinny boy from college with a smartass smile. Time didn’t have any effect on his appearance. He had a big paper packet with him. The lady on the ground floor had offered me lunch, but I felt shy and refused. Over the next few hours I sorely regretted my decision. I desperately needed some food.

With swift hands I helped myself. I thought you hated South Indian food?

People change man! Plus, it’s the most economic food here. You can’t afford Subway every day, Rishi explained.

Tastes good! By the way, Isha messaged me and she wants to meet. I gave her your address. Are you guys in touch?

Not exactly. Not everyone is as lucky as you. Rishi smiled. I got the sarcastic bit but ignored it.

You are joining your new work tomorrow, right? Rishi asked. I nodded.

Good. I’ll give you a ride on my bike. Technoplaza is nearby.

I was already busy with my third idli, so I nodded again to concur.

Rishi sat near me. It’s really good to see you after such a long time.

We men are weak at expressing emotions. We hesitate to hug our best friend. We even hesitate to say we missed them. So all I could do for my best friend was to offer the last idli as a gesture that I had missed him too.

You ate everything? You greedy monkey, Rishi laughed hard and jumped on me.

We started laughing and fighting. Funny, but that’s how we express our affection. I really missed this psycho. My best friend.

Am I ruining the party?

Rishi and I were so preoccupied playing Multiplayer Football on Rishi’s Xbox, we didn’t realize we had a visitor.

I looked at the door and saw her. She had put on bit of weight in the last four years. Good, as she had been too thin back then. Her round face had an expert touch of makeup. She had done something with her hair too. It looked shorter, but nice. In college I had seen her only in Indian outfits; trendy stuff that she always carried off well. But this formal shirt and skirt and winning appearance reflected the corporate culture and she looked great! It took me some time to believe it was the same girl. Rishi’s reaction was the same as mine.

Is it a boy zone? Girls not allowed or what? She smiled. Her smile was just as I remembered, 70% cute + 30% naughty=100% Isha.

I recovered, You…you look so good. Rishi nodded. He was equally stunned with this version of Isha.

Isha smiled again, You guys look good too. But look at you. You have put on weight. That last comment was definitely for me. Rishi was always in the underweight category. I remembered we used to buy jeans for him from the kid’s section.

I wanted to make some small talk and ask how she was. But nothing came out. It’s hard to believe how relationships change over time. After four years I was having trouble conversing with the person I spoke with the most in my entire college life.

Rishi saved me from further embarrassment, Guys! Let’s go out. The landlady is a bit conservative. She won’t be happy with a girl up in here. There’s a café nearby…

Before he could finish Isha was already inside. Wow! So you guys will be sharing the apartment. Oh look! Single bedroom! Interesting. Dev? I hope your taste hasn’t changed. She started laughing at her own joke. Typical Isha.

Rishi’s face turned red. I don’t know why, but they never got along well. Before he could comment I barged in, Very funny. Let’s go. We can talk in the café.

Roger that. Isha was already done with her survey of the apartment and gunning to go.

Rishi was a bit hesitant but I pulled him along. We walked to the nearest Cuppa.

So guys, it’s my treat, Isha declared.

I tried to protest, Actually it should be mine; I am the one with the new job.

Don’t worry, Mr. Dev. I need a full-fledged dinner soon, you can pay for that. So it’s decided, this is my treat and you pick up dinner for me soon. Ok Rishi?

Rishi nodded. No surprise there. Rishi was always good with free food. With the first cup of coffee, sandwiches, and old friends, I was in Cuppa heaven. The good thing was Rishi and Isha started warming up to each other. Otherwise it would have been a nightmare for me staying in Bengaluru with two of my best friends not on talking terms.

Rishi got a call and went out in search of a better signal. That gave me a chance to speak to Isha alone. I had been carrying a burden for a long time and it was about time I expressed that to her. Time complicates things further. So many times I thought I would say this to her when I would see her next. But now, meeting her after all these years, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t have the courage to open old wounds.

Well Divs. How are things? Isha raised her eyebrows.

You know it all, Ish. I am excited about this new job. It’s so nice to have you guys back in my life. I…

She didn’t let me finish. Oh, please stop boring me. Tell me about your love life. Are you seeing someone?

No! I smiled.

Stop it! You ask me to believe that? She made a face at me.

Yes, Ish. I am done with love, I said firmly. Forget about me. What about you? How many guys are crazy about you?

Girls dig compliments like that and Isha was no exception, Shut up! I am single and not ready to mingle.

Thank God. That’ll save a few lives.

What? You dirty… she hit me softly and started laughing. It felt really nice to see her smiling. The last time I spoke to her, she was…

My thoughts were interrupted when Isha leaned in as if to share a secret. Hey Divs, I think you should move to a separate house. Rishi’s house is hardly big enough to be called a 1 BHK. I know how close you guys are, but think practically. I have some friends who can help you find a house near your office. Look, I am just concerned about your comfort and Rishi’s. You understand, right?

I smiled at her, Of course I understand Ish. I know you wish only good for me. But as you rightly said, Rishi and I are close. We’re like brothers. When I called and told him I was coming to Bengaluru, we didn’t even talk about where I am going to stay. I can’t leave him unless he wants me to. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. My original house is not Buckingham Palace, you remember?

Okay. It’s your call. But tell me if you need anything … deal?

Deal, ma’am!

Rishi came back then, so we decided to go for a third round of coffee. Later we walked over to our house. I decided to stay back and help Isha find a ride to her apartment that she’s sharing with colleagues. The lovely evening was about to end. Isha wished me luck for the next day.

Get a local number tomorrow and call me. We’ll meet this weekend. She sat in the auto.

Yes Ish. But… I hesitated, I had something to say…

It’s ok, she didn’t seem to be curious. I am not going anywhere. We’ll talk some other time.

Ok, I agreed. Bye Ish. Take care.

Hey! One second. She stopped me, holding on to my shirt. Can I ask you something?

I was surprised. Shoot.

You aren’t here to meet Neera, right?

There are some names, some incidents, and some memories which you want to keep in a dark, secret room; locked up with a lost key so that you couldn’t go back even if you wanted.

I didn’t know what to say. My face turned red. I tried to reply but my lips didn’t cooperate. I wanted this conversation to be over right now. No, I snapped. Bye Ish.

I started walking without waiting for her to respond. I heard the sound of the auto fading away.

Neera. Thanks for bringing that up Ish. I took control over my emotions. Whatever is locked deep, deep inside should stay there. I have a big day coming up tomorrow.

2

THE MORE IT, THE LESS I SEE

So you are Devo-sish Banerjee?

It’s Devashish, Ma’am.

That’s what I said. You’re late. Your starting time was 10 this morning.

I was speaking with Ms. Anita from the HR department. Honestly, I wasn’t to blame for the delay, the culprits were Bengaluru auto drivers busy trying to rob my last penny in the name of fare. I could have shared my pitiful public transport experience with her but I doubted she cared. Sorry for that. I got stuck in traffic.

Get used to it. Bengaluru is infamous for traffic. It’s not Delhi. She gave me a know-it-all look. Now how did Delhi enter the picture?

Actually I am from Kolkata.

Yeah I know. It’s nearby. Right? she said with an expression as if she jogged between Delhi and Kolkata every day.

Yeah, it’s nearby, dumbo. Before your MBA, you should have read your grade four geography, I thought. Alas, we have freedom of thought but not speech in corporations, especially on the first day in a new company with your HR rep. Over the next 30 minutes, I gathered more evidence of the striking intelligence of the company’s HR department. But every good thing comes to an end, and I was told to meet Mr. Hiten Shinde, my Project Manager.

Things were just getting interesting. I reached the third floor and moved to the last big room on the left.

May I come in, Sir? I knocked on the door.

Yes!, Yes! Be my guest. The reply was slightly more dramatic than I expected. I entered the room.

Though I couldn’t see him fully since he was sitting, calling him overweight was clearly an understatement. To my amazement, I saw a packet of chocolate and a box of cookies, both half-eaten, in front of him. He was sweating even with the air conditioning turned on full blast.

So, you are that Bengali boy who joined today. Devo… Deva…what was your name…was it Devdas?

You can call me Dev, Sir. I put him out of his misery.

That’s better. You Bengalis like fancy names. Don’t you?

Now that’s unfair. I agree some Bengali names can be complex and even the child named with one of those curses the parents when they start learning to write.

I tried to smile. I don’t know sir. For me, I prefer Dev.

Ok. So Dev, why are you here?

I started off with the ‘Why do you want to join our company’ speech I had mugged up for interviews.

Sir, I really admire TTS as a company and a brand…

Oh, stop, he intervened, I am asking why you are in South India? You know most people are vegetarian here. Can you imagine? Idli, dosa…what the hell? But you are from the land of fish. Wow! I love fish. He uttered those words with such intensity that I almost pictured him munching on a fish fry.

Poor fish, I thought. So Sir, aren’t you from here?

His expression told me I had asked a dumb question. Of course, not. I am from Pune. Then he continued, So you can cook?

Where was this conversation going? Not in my comfort zone at least. Not exactly. Only Maggie and tea, I confessed.

Hopeless. He seemed disheartened. Ok, Dev. Let’s talk work now. You are a Database Administrator? How is your expertise in Development?

Yes, sir. Though I have been mostly in Administration, I have done some hands-on scripting and development, especially on Microsoft Technologies.

Good! I prefer all-rounders. Let me call Rajan. He will introduce you to the team. I have heard good feedback about you from the interview panel but you worked on a small project before. This is huge. You have to adjust to the work culture here. Watch how things are done and try to make your mark soon. He started dialling.

I will Sir. Thank goodness. I was starting to doubt whether I was joining here as a software engineer or as a Master Chef.

My first day at the office was a mixed bag of experiences. After a ‘mouthful’ interaction with Hiten, I sat with Rajan, my team leader, for some time. The guy looked genuine and decent. He introduced me to the rest of the team.

Everyone seemed friendly, except a lady named Gayathri. I shook hands with everyone and went up to her and said, Hi! I am Dev. She looked at me with an expression like I was a convicted criminal and walked away.

What’s her problem? I asked Rajan.