Date: June 13th, 2011 (Tuesday Night).
Location: Deva Farmhouse, Shamshabad.
Time: 9:00 PM.
Siddanth Deva sat on his balcony, staring at the moon. The cool night air of Shamshabad was a welcome relief after a day spent wrestling with Income Tax Laws. He had memorized the tax slabs for senior citizens, the exemptions under Section 10, and the depreciation rates for plant machinery. His brain felt heavy, dense with data.
He picked up his phone. He needed a logistical miracle.
He dialed Arjun.
"Tell me you're not calling about a bug in the Flash Messenger," Arjun answered on the first ring, the sound of typing furiously in the background. "Because if you are, I'm going to throw this laptop out the window."
"Relax, Steve Jobs," Deva chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "No bugs. I need a favor. A personal one."
Arjun stopped typing. "Okay. Shoot. You want more land? Another horse? A tank?"
"Tickets," Deva said. "Two tickets for Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides."
"Jack Sparrow?" Arjun's voice brightened instantly. "Nice choice. I love that franchise. When are we going?"
"Day after Tomorrow," Deva said. "2:30 PM show. Prasad's IMAX. The big screen."
"Day after Tomorrow? Thursday?" Arjun sounded confused. "Don't you have your Income Tax exam in the morning?"
"Just buy the tickets," Deva said.
"Okay, okay," Arjun said, the sound of him opening a browser audible. "I'll book four tickets. Me, you, Sameer, and Feroz. Sameer will whine about missing work, but I'll fire him if he doesn't come."
Deva cleared his throat. This was the tricky part. Lying to his best friend felt... stickier.
"Actually, Arjun... don't book four," Deva said slowly. "Just two."
There was a pause on the line. A long, suspicious silence.
"Two?" Arjun repeated. "So... me and you? What about the others?"
"No," Deva rubbed the back of his neck. "Not you."
"Excuse me?" Arjun sounded offended. "You're going to watch Pirates without me? Who are you going with? Sameer? That traitor."
"Not Sameer," Deva chuckled nervously. "Just... tell your assistant to book two VIP tickets and have them messaged to my phone. Or print them out and drop them at the farmhouse gate tomorrow afternoon."
"Sid," Arjun's voice dropped to a serious, investigative tone. "Who are you going with? Is it a girl? Did you meet someone? Is it an actress? Tell me."
"It's not a girl, you idiot," Deva lied, his voice reaching a pitch of feigned exasperation. "It's for Mom and Dad."
"Uncle and Aunty?" Arjun asked, skeptical. "Vikram Uncle wants to watch Johnny Depp run around like a drunk pirate?"
"They love... adventure movies," Deva improvised rapidly. "Mom saw the trailer. She liked the... scenery. And Dad needs a break from the farm. They asked me to book it. I'm just the dutiful son arranging the logistics."
"A Movie," Arjun mused. "At 2:30 PM on a Thursday. At Prasad's IMAX. For a Hollywood blockbuster."
"Retirement life, Arjun," Deva said firmly. "Don't question it. Just get the tickets."
"Fine," Arjun sighed, buying the lie (mostly). "Two VIP tickets. Tomorrow. I'll have the driver drop them off in an envelope at security by 2 PM. But tell Uncle if he doesn't like the 3D glasses, he can't sue me."
"Thanks, bro. You're a lifesaver."
"Yeah, yeah. Go study your taxes."
Deva cut the call. He exhaled deeply.
Step 1 complete.
He opened Flash Messenger. He found "The Headache".
Me:Tickets booked. Prasad's IMAX. 2:30 PM show. Don't run away after the exam.
The reply came two seconds later.
Headache:IMAX? Fancy. Okay.
Me:Nice. Now Sleep.
Headache:Aye aye, Captain.
Deva stared at the screen. Captain. She didn't know how right she was.
---
Thursday, June 16th.
The Income Tax exam was widely regarded as the 'Widowmaker' of the commerce degree. It was dense, mathematical, and unforgiving.
Deva arrived at the center on time. He met Krithika at the water cooler. She looked stressed. She was pacing, muttering sections of the IT Act.
"If they ask about Capital Gains, I am dead," she whispered, her eyes wide. "I skipped that chapter."
"Relax," Deva said, adjusting his mask. "I read it. Long Term Capital Gains is 20% with indexation. Section 54 EC exemptions apply if you invest in NHAI bonds. Just copy the numbers I write."
She looked at him with something approaching awe. "You are a strange guy. You dress like a fugitive, but you know tax laws better than my Chartered Accountant dad."
"Let's just get this over with," Deva said.
Inside the hall, it was a massacre. Students were groaning audibly as they read the question paper. It was tough.
But for Deva, it was just data retrieval.
[Skill: Eidetic Memory - Active]
He accessed the mental image of the 'Direct Taxes Law & Practice' textbook. He saw the tables. He saw the solved examples.
He wrote furiously.
Kick.
Slide.
Copy.
Kick.
Slide.
Copy.
They worked like a well-oiled machine. By 12:30 PM, the "Monster" had been tamed. They submitted their papers early.
As they walked out into the corridor, Krithika let out a whoop of joy that echoed off the walls.
"We survived!" she cheered, punching Deva's arm. "That was brutal! But we killed it! I owe you big time."
"You owe me nothing," Deva reminded her, checking the time. "We have a movie to catch. 2:30 PM. Prasad's."
"Right," she nodded, adjusting her bag. "I'll see you there?"
"Traffic will be bad," Deva said. "And finding parking at Prasad's takes forever. Let's just ride together. We can convoy."
"Convoy?" she laughed. "Okay, Fast and Furious. Lead the way."
They walked to the parking lot. Deva unlocked the beat-up Pulsar. Krithika hopped onto her purple Scooty Pep+.
"Try to keep up, Hero," she shouted over her engine.
"Just don't get lost," Deva retorted.
They pulled out of the college gates. Krithika zoomed ahead, weaving through the auto-rickshaws. Deva followed, keeping a safe distance but keeping her purple helmet in sight.
They rode through the chaotic Hyderabad traffic, past the flyovers and the bustling junctions, two students escaping reality for an afternoon.
It felt... normal. Liberating. For a brief moment, the weight of the Indian jersey lifted off his shoulders. He was just a guy following a girl to the movies.
---
Location: Prasad's IMAX, Hyderabad.
Time: 2:00 PM.
They parked their bikes in the basement parking. Deva adjusted his hoodie, pulling it up slightly. The mask stayed firmly on.
They took the escalator up to the lobby. It was crowded, but the sheer size of the atrium swallowed the noise.
"Tickets?" Krithika asked, extending her hand.
Deva pulled the printed slips from his pocket. "VIP. Row K. Best seats in the house."
"Fancy," she noted again. "Your friend at the cricket board must really like you."
"I do his taxes," Deva joked dryly.
"Makes sense," she laughed. "Okay, food. I am starving. Income Tax eats brain cells."
She marched towards the concession stand. Deva hung back near a pillar, scanning the crowd. No one seemed to be paying attention to the guy in the mask.
Krithika returned with a bucket of popcorn the size of a small drum and a large cola.
"Okay," she said, offering the bucket. "Dig in. Cheese and Caramel mix."
Deva looked at the popcorn. It smelled incredible. But he shook his head.
"I can't," Deva said, his voice muffled by the mask.
"What?" Krithika frowned. "Why? It's popcorn. It melts in your mouth. You don't even have to chew."
"The doctor was very specific," Deva lied, tapping his jaw. "No outside food. Infection risk. Sterile diet only."
"You're kidding," she stared at him. "You came to a movie, and you can't eat popcorn? That's like going to a temple and not praying."
"I have water," Deva lifted a bottle from his bag. "I'll survive."
"Suit yourself," she shrugged, tossing a kernel into her mouth. "More for me. But you are missing out. This is elite."
---
They entered the massive auditorium. The screen was gigantic. The VIP section was at the back, with plush red recliner seats that felt like business-class airline seats.
They found their seats. K-14 and K-15.
"Wow," Krithika said, sinking into the plush leather. "This is nice. I could get used to this."
"Comfortable?" Deva asked, sitting down.
"Very. Just missing a blanket."
The lights dimmed. The trailers began. The massive surround sound kicked in, vibrating the floor.
Deva kept his mask on.
"You can take it off now, you know," Krithika whispered, leaning over. "It's dark. Nobody can see your chipmunk cheeks."
Deva shook his head. "AC air. It... makes the stitches throb. Cold air sensitivity."
Krithika rolled her eyes in the dark. "You are the most delicate boy I have ever met, Siddarth Reddy. Seriously. How do you survive in the real world?"
"Barely," Deva whispered back.
The movie started. Jack Sparrow appeared on screen, running from the Royal Guard.
Deva watched the movie, but his attention was split. He was hyper-aware of Krithika sitting next to him. She was fully immersed, laughing at the jokes, gasping at the action sequences. She munched on her popcorn rhythmically.
Every now and then, she would lean over to whisper a commentary.
"That mermaid is scary," she whispered.
"It's CGI," Deva whispered back.
"Still scary. Don't look at her."
Deva smiled behind his mask. It was nice. Just sitting there. No one is asking for a photo. No one is asking about his strike rate. Just watching pirates.
During the interval, the lights came up slightly. Deva pulled his hood lower and slouched down, pretending to check his phone.
"Bathroom?" Krithika asked, standing up.
"I'm good," Deva said.
"Okay. Guard the popcorn. Don't let anyone steal it."
"I'll fight them off," Deva promised.
She walked away. Deva scanned the rows. A few people were looking around, stretching. No one recognized him.
She came back a few minutes later with a refill on her drink. "The line for the ladies' room is longer than the Great Wall of China," she complained, sitting back down. "So, Siddarth. Be honest. How was the exam? Really?"
"Really?" Deva looked at her. "I think we passed. Easily. The Capital Gains section was straightforward."
"Easy for you," she grumbled. "I just copied what you wrote. I hope your handwriting was legible."
"It was block letters," Deva reminded her. "I made it idiot-proof."
"Hey!" she slapped his arm playfully. "Watch it."
The lights went down again. The movie resumed.
As the climax approached—swords clashing, ships rocking—Deva felt a strange sense of peace. He realized he hadn't thought about cricket for three hours. He hadn't thought about the England tour.
He was just a guy watching a movie.
When the credits rolled, they waited for the crowd to thin out before leaving.
"That was fun," Krithika said as they walked out into the bright lobby, blinking against the light. "Thanks for the ticket, Siddarth. You have good taste."
"You're welcome," Deva said.
---
As they walked past the 'Fun Zone' arcade on the 2nd floor, Deva stopped. The sound of digital explosions and racing engines drifted out.
"Hey," Deva said, nodding towards the neon lights. "You in a rush?"
Krithika looked at her watch, then at the arcade. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Why? You want to lose at something other than social skills?"
"Ouch," Deva laughed. "Come on. My treat. Racing games? Fighting games?"
"You're on," she said, dropping her bag on a bench. "But be warned. I don't play like a girl; I play like a maniac."
They bought a card loaded with credits.
Round 1: Moto GP Simulator.
They climbed onto the plastic bikes. Deva leaned forward. He knew the lines. He knew the braking points. He could easily calculate the perfect apex for every turn.
The race started. Deva took the lead instantly. He was smooth, precise.
He looked to his left. Krithika was leaning dangerously far, tongue sticking out in concentration, hammering the throttle. She crashed into a wall, swore loudly, and reset.
Deva smiled. He tapped the brake. He let his bike drift wide. He 'accidentally' hit a gravel trap.
Krithika zoomed past him.
"See you later, loser!" she screamed over the game audio.
She won by 2 seconds. She did a victory dance right there in the arcade.
"Who's the racer now? Huh? Who's the racer?"
Deva shrugged, hiding a grin. "Bike had a wobble. Mechanical failure."
Round 2: Tekken.
Deva picked Paul Phoenix. Krithika picked Ling Xiaoyu.
Deva blocked everything. He knew the frame data of every move instinctively. He could have ended the match in ten seconds with a perfect combo.
But he watched her hands on the joystick. She was mashing buttons with pure chaotic energy, eyes wide.
He let his guard down. He missed a block.
She hit a combo.
"K.O!" the machine announced.
"Yes!" she shouted, punching his arm. "You are terrible at this! How do you survive?"
"I'm a pacifist," Deva said, rubbing his arm.
They played Air Hockey (he let her win 7-5), Basketball Hoops (he actually tried here and won easily, blaming 'physics'), and finally, a shooting game where they were on the same team.
For one hour, Siddanth Deva, the most competitive athlete in the country, lost game after game. And every time he lost, Krithika laughed. It was a loud, unselfconscious laugh that made heads turn.
He watched her, leaning against a racing machine. He realized that losing had never felt this good.
"Okay," Krithika panted, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "I think I've humiliated you enough for one day. My ego is satisfied."
"Glad I could be of service," Deva said.
"You're a good sport, Siddarth," she said, her voice softer. "Most guys get angry when they lose."
"I pick my battles," Deva said simply.
---
They walked to the basement parking. The afternoon heat had mellowed slightly.
"Okay, next exam," she switched back to commander mode, pulling out her helmet. "Advanced Accounting. Next Tuesday."
Deva nodded. "Two more to go."
"9:30. Water cooler. Same spot."
"I'll be there."
She put on her helmet. "Thanks for today. The movie. The games. It was... nice. For a nerd."
"Thanks for letting me win at Basketball," Deva countered.
She laughed, kick-starting her Scooty. "In your dreams, Reddy."
She zoomed off towards the exit ramp. Deva watched her go.
He unlocked his Pulsar. He felt lighter. The mask was itchy, the hoodie was hot, but he felt good.
Deva grinned. He revved the bike and followed the path out, back into the world where he was a legend, carrying the secret of an afternoon where he was just ordinary.