I survived relentless bullying.
Yes, it's hard for most people to believe because I'm so well adjusted but I was a victim of vicious bullying. Let me tell you how it happened.
It started on my 25th birthday although I didn't realise it then. I was curled up on my queen sized bed (because you know I'm a queen), tired after a long night of partying. "Ramu Kaka!" I yelled. "Music band kar do!"
"Koi music nai hai didi," he claimed. What was he talking about? There was a loud thumping sound like my boyfriend Akash makes when he plays the drums. Well, ex-boyfriend. Why was I even thinking about him? I must obviously be hungover.
"Didi, medicine," Ramu Kaka was back with a Dolo 650 and some lemon water. I gratefully gulped down the entire glass. I needed to be in my senses before I made the most important decision of the day - what outfit do I wear to the spa? It's really hard because there are so many choices. Back when I was going to college, I used to envy those kids from small towns who only had like 20 different outfits. It was so easy for them to decide!
I finally chose something really cheap and comfy - red converse, diesel jeans and a supreme top. "Ramu Kaka, gadi nikalo!" I yelled as I went downstairs to join my family for breakfast.
"Look who's finally up," mom said. "But happy birthday, my baby!"
Something was off. My brother would always have breakfast at home, no matter what his plans were. Even weirder - my dad wasn't reading the newspaper, and he always reads it even though it's so boring. Frankly the only part of the newspaper worth reading is The Bombay Times.
"Come on mom, I'm just a few minutes late to breakfast."
"It's lunch time, you can't keep sleeping in so long" Dadi huffed.
"I missed breakfast?" I said, sounding upset but secretly I was pleased because that witch Natasha recently lost a lot of weight and she was showing off every week at Twyst. She was getting more insta likes than me. It was time to show her who was actually the hottest.
"Great meal!" I said as I spooned the last of the rajma chawal off the plate. "Thank you, I wanted to plan the perfect menu for your birthday," mom said with a smile.
Dad looked satisfied as well.
Dadi however was not looking happy. "I can only blame myself, " she said. "Look at this Nishant, how old is she? What is she doing with her life?"
"Ma please," dad said. "It's her birthday, let's discuss this later."
"Hai Bhagwan, why did you leave me here in this cruel household?" Dadi whined. She's sooo dramatic.
"Mom, dad, I'm going to check on the decorations for the party." I said as I picked up my Gucci crossbody bag. "I'll die if the party's not featured in the Bombay Times, and Ayushi told me her senior editor is being super choosy now."
Okay, I lied. I didn't go to Twyst to check on the decorations. I went to Inorbit Mall instead. I had to! Natasha had posted a new album and she was looking hot. What would it look like if I didn't glow on my birthday?
"Hey babe!" I heard someone call out. "Happy Birthday!" Anya wrapped me in a hug.
"Thank you," I said. "Let's take a picture for my insta?"
"Are you mad? I look like trash, see my face!"
I guess I looked upset or something, because she immediately said, "Fine, let's take a pic for your story. But babe, do you know how many contacts I had to use to get us this booking at Relaxvana? I had to speak to Sonam! Sonam!"
I shivered. Sonam was a weird chick from Gurgaon, who'd joined our school in junior and senior years. (I hear local people call it 11th and 12th grade, but seriously?). She actually spoke Hindi like a local. Then she decided to do some design course and she was actually working. I mean why would anyone work if they had a choice?
But back to me now. Anya and I checked into Relaxvana and opted for the Platinum Package - the best way to relieve all the stress we'd been feeling.
A few blissful hours later, we were wandering around the mall, trying to find the perfect spot for our photoshoot. Anya and I looked stunning, if I do say so myself. We need to justify our hotness with the perfect background for my birthday photoshoot. Well, the first in a series of photoshoots. This was the pre-party shoot, and we had the getting ready for the party shoot, the party shoot and the post party shoot. This was going to be a lot of work. Thank god I was smart enough to relax beforehand!
"Hi ladies! You look hot," I heard someone say.
"Darius!" Anya exclaimed. "So good to see you." She turned to me and said, "Here's your second birthday present. A professional photographer."
I eyed Darius skeptically. He seemed a bit young to be a photographer. "Happy birthday! And thank you for helping me build my portfolio."
I smiled. Building a portfolio was obviously code for free work for experience! "Thank you, and if you do a good enough job, you can be my official party photographer too."
The rest of the night passed in a blur. Photos, poses, party snacks and a whale of a good time. Ayushi was there with her cameraperson as well. Take that, Natasha! Ramu drove me home, and I collapsed in bed without even taking my makeup off.
Luckily there were two aspirins and a glass of lime water next to me when I woke up. I looked at the clock - 8 AM. Right on time for breakfast.
"Good morning!" I sang as I walked into the dining room. My grandmother glared at me. Mom was busy talking to someone on the phone.
But dad surprised me. He was frowning. Suddenly, I could really see the resemblance with my grandmother. There was a strange feeling in my stomach, like when I was scared someone would see me without full makeup. (Not that I go anywhere - well, anywhere important - without full makeup on.)
"Sit down, young lady," he said. "I just received your credit card bill."
"Oh papa, did you see the amazing deals I got at LV last week?" I gushed.
"See Nishant, totally spoilt," my grandmother fumed. "Does anyone spend two lakhs in a month?"
"Dadi, there was a summer sale at every mall. Did you want me to miss out?"
"Girls these days - no respect whatsoever. Would I have spoken to my grandmother like this? No, I wouldn't have dared! Look at you, wandering around the city in your luxury car. In my day, two of us used to sit in the back seat of the Ambassador. Two of us! Without any air conditioning, mind you."
"Yes ma, life was not easy for you," dad said. "But I don't understand you beta, why do you need to spend so much money - we give you a place to stay, you don't have to spend on food or your car or even your phone bills. So why do you spend so much?"
"Come on, papa. If I have to be a good influencer, I need to stay on top of the latest trends. It's important for my career." I looked around for mom's support, but she wasn't in the room anymore. She was probably still on the phone.
"What? What is an influencer?" Dadi asked. "Do something respectable, run an NGO or a club. What is this influencer nonsense?"
"Oh, Dadi, influencers help people live their best life by posting motivational pictures on instagram. It's a noble profession and it pays really well."
"Really?" dad said. "Then you'll be able to pay this credit card bill by yourself."
"Sure," I beamed. "I just got this underarm care kit from Ivory and Ebony. Do you think the bank will accept it even if it's lavender scented?"
"Did you already spend all the money you got from this...influencer...business?"
"Money?" I asked. "Where would I get money from?"
"Didn't you say you were paid well for this?"
"Of course, papa! But they give us something much better than money. They give us free samples. Well, that's with the promise of sharing it with my followers, and the post has got to have enough reach. I don't have enough followers yet - that's why I need to spend money, to build my follower base. Chal, I have to go now and make sure I look good for this underarm care video."
"Underarm video?" Mom had entered the room again. "What are you talking about?"
"See mom, I got this offer to make a sponsored video and I-"
"Enough of this nonsense," Dadi said. "What is she blabbering now?"
I looked at mom, knowing she'd tell Dadi off for me, but surprisingly, mom was still looking at me. "She's right, you know. I was just talking to Sima, and she was telling me how tough her job is nowadays. How hard it is to pair up young people today, who have no direction in life. And it scared me how much that sounds like you."
I was so confused. Who was this Sima? What was mom talking about?
"Beta, you need some direction in life," mom said.
"You need some controls," Dadi snorted.
"You need to stop wasting so much money," dad declared. "I'm cutting you off. A maximum of one lakh a month."
"What?" I said. "Papa, that's too little money. How will I live off one lakh? Do you want me to go live in a slum? Or - Navi Mumbai?" Tears filled my eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous, I'll still pay for the essentials, but you have to learn to budget. Besides, some people make one lakh a month working forty hours a week and they live just fine."
I gasped. Imagine that sort of life! How do they manage to shop and party and eat out with a measly one lakh? That's just 1 with...5 zeros after it.
But mom and Dadi looked happy.
"Good Nishant, let her learn her limits," Dadi said.
Mom looked happy too. "If you need more money, beta, you should try to make some yourself. Maybe you and Anya could start something together?"
Fine. I could see I wasn't getting any support from her.
"I'm going back to bed." I said. "I need some time to cope with this stress. Thank god I had a massage yesterday."
---
I stared at the ceiling, wondering what to do now. The last time I felt this low was when Akash and Natasha started going out. Actually, this felt worse, because without money I couldn't go out with anyone, not just one ex-boyfriend.
There was just one solution. I called Anya.
"Hey," she said as she picked up.
That was a surprise. Anya usually greeted me with a chirpy "Hey girl!" and her current favourite insta post. She was biting her lower lip, and her hair was still in a bun.
"Are you okay?" I asked her cautiously.
She burst into tears. "My dad said he's cutting me off. He's only giving me-one-one lakh a month!"
"What?" I said, stunned. Clearly, our moms had been talking. "Girl, me too. My dad told me the same thing."
"And - and - he said if I wanted more money, I had to work for it! I don't understand what the problem is. Are we poor now?"
She asked someone off screen.
"No, Anya," I heard Devaki aunty in the background. "We just want you to learn to be responsible. This could be good for you guys," she said as she came on screen. "Both of you could create something together. Won't that be fun?"
"What can we do, aunty?" I asked.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something," aunty said.
"You're right," I said. "Let's meet at Le Petit Boulangerie? Around 2?"
"Sure! We can plan what to do then," Anya perked up.
"Anya," Devaki aunty said. "Are you sure LPB fits your budget?"
"Oh, right - let's go somewhere else. Do you want to try the food court instead?"
"The - the food court?" I stammered. "Isn't that where like poor people eat?"
"There's a great juice bar there," aunty suggested. "And if you want to eat at LPB again, you need to come up with a great idea."
----
A few hours later, I was in the food court, a glass of aloe vera juice in front of me. Who knew aloe vera was a food and not just a chemical?
Anyway, on to more important things.
"This isn't so bad," Anya said.
"Yeah, but I'd so rather be at LPB. Let's find a way to make money fast! We could be influencers."
"Face it," Anya said. "We've been trying for months. And all we get is free stuff, no one wants to pay us anything."
It was true, we'd gotten a lot of free samples, and even a new free Google phone. I'd given that to Ramu kaka. As if I'd use anything other than the latest iPhone.
"What about becoming youtubers?"
"That's a lot of work," I said. It was true - I heard it from my cousin in Delhi (ugh!).
We lapsed into silence and I sipped on my aloe juice. Yuck. It can be great for the skin and all but it's too bitter.
"Dude, Office Ladies is amazing. I cried when I heard the John Krasinski episode," a guy at the next table was saying.
I snorted. Office Ladies? What kind of name was that? But Anya perked up, listening closely.
Whatever. I scrolled through my feed, pleased that everyone had posted photos from my party.
"That's it!" Anya said suddenly. "We can start a podcast! It's really easy to start one, according to my brother."
"What does he know?"
"Well, he knows a friend of a friend who like, makes money through ads on his podcast or something. And his friends are all dumb, so obviously we can do better."
"We can start a podcast!"
"Yeah, we just need an idea though."
However, that was easier said than done. We needed a contact at a podcasting company. Anya's brother shared the number of his friend's friend. And that person asked us to meet him at a party. "Sure, just text me the deets." Anya said. "Thank you so much! Byee."
Anya's face paled as she read the message. "Babe, the party's tomorrow. And it's a house party."
"Oh that's great, we can get started faster and we don't have to splurge on drinks."
"No, you don't understand. The house is in Borivali."
I gasped. We had to go to - to Borivali - to meet this podcast person? Where even was Borivali? Was it dangerous? Maybe this was a bad idea. We should just forget about it and try something else. I took another sip of juice. Nope, I couldn't do this for any longer. We needed to get started on something.
"It's just a party, right? We'll go with Ramu kaka and things will be fine," I said.
It was a struggle - we attended the house party in Borivali. I was really scared at first, but the people there were actually normal. The only thing was they ate local chips like Lays instead of
Doritos. We managed to meet the producer though. He was so mean - he told us we could only get a pilot episode and he'd decide if we got a full show based on how many people listened to the first one. Well, at least our show was finally off the ground.
It was really hard to find a topic to podcast about. Mohan - the producer - invited us to his office to talk about ideas.
"Well, we could talk about our lives, like Kalki Kochlien does in her podcast!" I said.
"Podcasts do well when they focus on a single topic. Do you ladies have something you're really good at."
"We're really good at managing money," Anya said.
I was confused. "Aren't we doing this entire thing because our families think we're bad at handling money?"
"Oh my god babe, since when do artistic souls like us believe we are bad at things? It totally violates the law of attraction. We don't need to learn or practice skills - the spirit always attracts what we are good at."
How could I have forgotten? As long as we believe that we're good at something, we will be good at it. Duh! "We're both amazing at managing money, so we'll started a financial advice podcast," I said, turning to Mohan.
He frowned, biting his lower lip. "You're going to give financial advice. Well, I suppose that could work. Where's the humour category advertiser list?" he said abruptly, turning to his assistant. Such a weirdo. At least he got us our pilot.
The next week was a blur. I regularly spent three, even four hours a day working on the script for the pilot episode. On Friday, I even deigned to speak to my uncle from Delhi (ugh!) and ask him for advice because he runs a bank or something. That's how dedicated I was.
I was so excited to help everyone find their way to financial freedom like me. The recording session was a blast. Mohan stood outside the booth as Anya and I recorded the episode, playing off our natural star quality and the kickass script I had written. At one point, Cyrus - that's Mohan's boss - came in and said, "This just might work."
"That's a wrap!" Mohan said a few hours later. "The episode will be out this Wednesday."
I remember the week before the episode was released. I told everyone about it, from Insta to Twitter to Snap. I even told the people I met in the gym. I couldn't wait for everyone to hear the next great amazing podcast.
But the comments we got after our first episode were so mean. People were telling us that the idea of going on only one international vacation a year was 'out of touch'. They didn't even like the idea of buying things from Selfridge's instead of going all the way to Saks. They said they didn't have 4 drivers to downsize, which doesn't make any sense because what happens when mom wants to go shopping and dad needs to golf and you and your brother have different parties to attend and dadi wants to go to satsang? I'm so confused. If they don't do these things already then where is their money going?
So there I was, wrapped up in my comfiest blanket, totally out of ideas when Mohan called.
"So I'll get straight to the point, Cyrus likes it and we want another ten episodes before we decide if your show becomes a regular on our line up."
"How does it matter if Cyrus likes it?" I asked angrily. "Did you see the horrible reviews people left us?"
"Yeah, why are people bullying us?"
"They're just internet trolls. You earned well for a pilot."
I sat up, suddenly feeling energetic. "How much did we make?"
"After subtracting production costs, that's about ten thousand."
I flopped onto my pillows again. "Ten thousand? That's like just a dinner at the Taj. We slaved away for a week and that's all for a measly ten thousand."
"That's good money for a pilot," Mohan said. "I'm sure you'll make more than ten thousand each if you stick to it."
"Wait, did we make less than that now?" Anya asked.
"Yes, five thousand for each of you. Most pilots don't make any money, Cyrus was happy," Mohan said. "Look, I have to go now but I have a lot of interested advertisers. Let's talk tomorrow about the next episode."
"Forget it," I said. "I speak for both Anya and me when I say this. You're exploiting us."
"Yeah, it's like slave labour," Anya agreed. "So much work for a measly five thousand. That's just three zeros. And people hate us so much."
"Yeah, they're bullying us. I'm so scared to leave the house now," I added.
There was no response from Mohan. How rude!
This was great. Not only were people hating on me, I'd done everything for a measly five thousand rupees.
"Babes," Anya said, "I think it's time to tell mom to get in touch with Sima aunty."