Date: January 11, 2013
Location: Saurashtra Cricket Association Stadium, Rajkot
Event: 1st ODI, India vs. England
The dust from the spectacular, world-stopping NEXUS launch had barely settled, but Siddanth Deva did not have the luxury of resting on his laurels. Barely seventy-two hours after breaking the global smartphone market in Mumbai, he was standing on the sun-baked outfield of the Saurashtra Cricket Association Stadium in Rajkot.
The Pakistani series was over. Now, Alastair Cook's England squad had arrived for a grueling five-match ODI series.
High up in the commentary box, the familiar voices of the broadcasting legends set the stage.
"A very warm welcome to Rajkot, ladies and gentlemen," Ravi Shastri's voice boomed across the television feed. "We have a cracker of a series opening up here. Alastair Cook has won the toss and elected to bat first on a pitch that looks like an absolute belter. Not a blade of grass. It's going to be a long, hot day for the Indian bowlers."
"Spot on, Ravi," added former England captain Nasser Hussain. "It's a traditional subcontinental road. With the two new white balls offering very little reverse swing later on, England will be looking at 300 as a bare minimum."
India fielded a formidable starting XI: Rohit Sharma and Ajinkya Rahane at the top, followed by Virat Kohli, Siddanth Deva, Yuvraj Singh, Suresh Raina, MS Dhoni, Ravindra Jadeja, R Ashwin, Bhuvneshwar Kumar, and Ishant Sharma. It was a lineup stacked with match-winners, but today, they would be severely tested.
England's opening pair walked out with clear intent. From the very first over, Alastair Cook and Ian Bell played with a measured, clinical aggression. The pitch offered practically zero lateral movement for Bhuvneshwar Kumar, and the bounce was incredibly true, allowing the English batsmen to hit through the line effortlessly.
England built their innings beautifully. Every single batter seemed to find their rhythm. When Cook fell, Kevin Pietersen walked in and immediately began dismantling the spinners. The scoreboard ticked over with terrifying consistency: 80/1, 150/2, 220/3.
"Pietersen is putting on an absolute clinic here," Harsha Bhogle noted as the English batsman swept Jadeja for a massive six. "The Indian bowlers are looking a bit out of ideas. The run rate is climbing towards six and a half, and MS Dhoni looks deeply concerned."
But MS Dhoni's men never let the game slip completely out of control. Every time an English partnership looked like it was about to explode into an un-chaseable total, an Indian bowler would strike.
Ishant Sharma, hitting the deck hard, managed to extract a rare edge from Ian Bell just as he was accelerating. R Ashwin used his carrom ball to trap a sweeping Eoin Morgan LBW. And whenever the run rate began to climb dangerously, Dhoni would throw the ball to his Vice-Captain.
Siddanth bowled a heavy, consistent 145 kmph, mixing in lethal, dipping, slower balls.
"Brilliant variation from Deva," Shastri commented as Siddanth picked up two crucial wickets in the death overs, castling Jos Buttler with a perfect yorker and having Samit Patel caught in the deep. "He completely out-thought the batsman there. Rolled his fingers over the seam, and Buttler was miles early into the shot."
Despite the timely wickets, England finished their fifty overs with a massive, imposing total.
ENGLAND: 325/6 (50 Overs)
As the Indian team walked off the field for the innings break, the Rajkot crowd was buzzing with nervous energy. Chasing 326 in 2013 was a monumental task, requiring a required run rate of 6.52 from ball one.
"Flat deck," Siddanth muttered to Kohli as they untaped their fingers. "But it's going to slow down under the lights. We need a massive start."
"Rohit is looking in the mood," Kohli replied, nodding toward the dressing room where the Mumbai batsman was quietly padding up.
When the chase began, the Indian openers did exactly what was required. Rohit Sharma and Ajinkya Rahane matched the English intensity stroke for stroke. Steven Finn and Jade Dernbach tried to bounce them out, but Rohit was in his absolute element.
"He has all the time in the world, does Rohit Sharma," Nasser Hussain admired on the broadcast as Rohit effortlessly pulled Finn over mid-wicket for a massive six. "It's not power, it's pure timing. The Rajkot crowd is loving this."
However, in the 16th over, disaster struck the steady foundation. Rahane, trying to force the pace against the off-spin of James Tredwell, skipped down the track, missed the pitch of the flighted delivery, and was stumped comfortably by Craig Kieswetter.
Rahane: st Kieswetter b Tredwell 32 (45)
Virat Kohli strutted out to the crease at number three, spinning his bat. For the next ten overs, Kohli and Rohit put on a dazzling display of stroke-play. Kohli was aggressive, driving Tim Bresnan through the covers with surgical precision. But just as he looked primed for a massive score, he fell into a trap set by Stuart Broad. Trying to whip a ball off his pads over mid-wicket, Kohli closed the face of his bat a fraction too early, sending a leading edge soaring into the sky, safely caught at third man.
"Oh, he's thrown it away!" Shastri lamented. "Kohli was looking so solid, but Broad rolls his fingers across it, takes the pace off, and the leading edge finds third man perfectly. Huge wicket for England!"
Kohli: c Finn b Broad 37 (31)
India was 128 for 2 in the 25th over. The required run rate was creeping up over 7.9.
The stadium erupted into a familiar, deafening roar. Siddanth Deva walked out of the pavilion.
"And here comes The Devil," Harsha Bhogle announced. "After that incredible 145 not out in Delhi, the expectations are sky-high. But this is a very different situation. He has a set partner in Rohit Sharma. Let's see how he approaches this chase."
He tapped his bat on his pads, his eyes scanning the field. The English players visibly tightened their body language. They knew what 'The Devil' was capable of.
Siddanth took his guard. Broad steamed in, bowling a sharp, rising delivery aimed at his ribcage.
Siddanth didn't unleash a violent pull shot. Instead, he simply rose on his toes, dropped his wrists, and tapped the ball softly down to third man for a comfortable single.
He jogged to the non-striker's end, tapping gloves with Rohit.
"You keep hitting, Ro, you are in form," Siddanth said quietly.
Rohit smiled, adjusting his helmet. "Pitch is beautiful, Sid. Just comes right onto the bat."
"Then keep hitting," Siddanth instructed. "I'll feed you the strike. No need to take unnecessary risks on my end. Just play your natural game."
And for the next fifteen overs, Siddanth Deva played a role the world rarely saw him play: the perfect, unselfish anchor.
He was displaying impeccable technique and a rock-solid anchor mindset. He didn't try to hit sixes. He simply found the gaps with mechanical precision. If the ball was on a good length, he pushed it to long-off for a single. If it drifted to his pads, he flicked it to deep square leg for two. He was a metronome of strike rotation.
"I am incredibly impressed by Siddanth Deva here," Nasser Hussain noted. "We know he can hit the ball a mile, but he has realized that Rohit is in the zone. He is just giving him the strike, playing the selfless supporting act. That is remarkable maturity from the Vice-Captain."
This allowed Rohit Sharma to remain on strike and in his devastating flow state. Rohit took the English bowlers apart. He deposited Tredwell into the stands twice in one over and cut Dernbach to ribbons.
In the 38th over, Rohit drove a full toss through the covers for four, raising his arms as the stadium went absolutely ballistic.
"A magnificent century for Rohit Sharma!" Sunil Gavaskar's voice boomed on the television broadcast. "What an elegant, effortless display of batting! And look at Siddanth Deva at the other end, applauding his partner. He has curbed all his natural destructive instincts today to simply play the supporting act."
The partnership had crossed 120 runs. India was firmly in the driver's seat.
But two overs later, a momentary lapse in concentration cost Rohit his wicket. Exhausted from the heat, he tried to sweep a wide delivery from Joe Root, top-edged it, and was caught at short fine leg for a brilliant 112.
The score was 248 for 3. India still needed 78 runs from 60 balls.
Yuvraj Singh walked to the crease, twirling his bat. He looked at Siddanth, who was currently batting on 41 from 39 balls.
"Time to go?" Yuvraj asked, his eyes flashing with intent.
"The stage is yours, Yuvi bhai," Siddanth replied, tapping the pitch. "I'll keep feeding you the strike."
In the very next over, Siddanth hit a crisp boundary off Jade Dernbach, followed by sharp running between the wickets, bringing up a beautifully paced half-century. He raised his bat to acknowledge the roaring crowd, reaching 50 off 44 balls.
"A fantastic, mature fifty from the Vice-Captain," Harsha noted on the mic. "He's played the anchor role perfectly today."
Once his milestone was secured, Siddanth deliberately took a backseat. Recognizing that the man at the other end was seeing the ball like a beachball, Deva continued his flawless strike rotation, ensuring Yuvraj faced the lion's share of the deliveries.
Given the freedom to attack, Yuvraj Singh unleashed pure vintage carnage. He hit three colossal sixes off Stuart Broad, his high backlift and flawless bat-swing sending the white ball soaring into the Rajkot night sky. The English bowlers completely lost their length under the assault.
"Vintage Yuvraj Singh!" Nasser cheered. "Deva is just standing at the non-striker's end, happily admiring the view while Yuvraj tears the English attack apart!"
Yuvraj dominated the strike, racing to a blistering 50 off just 26 deliveries. In their rapid 63-run partnership, Siddanth only faced 10 balls, perfectly executing his role as the facilitator.
But attempting to finish the game early, Yuvraj miscued a lofted drive off Tim Bresnan and was caught at long-on.
With only 15 runs required, Suresh Raina trotted out to the middle. The score was 311/4.
Siddanth didn't let the game drag on. Facing Steven Finn in the 48th over, he hit a crisp cover drive for four, followed by a violent pull shot for another boundary. He pushed a single off the third ball, giving Raina the strike.
Raina stepped out to Finn and launched him effortlessly over long-on for a massive six, finishing the match in style.
"Into the crowd! India wins with two overs to spare!" Shastri roared as the crowd celebrated. "A massive chase executed with absolute perfection!"
At the post-match presentation, Harsha Bhogle stood on the field with the microphone.
"Rohit Sharma, Man of the Match for a spectacular 112," Harsha smiled. "You made it look so easy out there."
Rohit accepted the trophy, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Thanks, Harsha. The pitch was great, I just told myself to play my game, and don't think of the scoreboard... it made my job incredibly easy."
Siddanth stood at the back of the team huddle, sipping a sports drink, completely content in the shadows. He was the first to clap, whistling loudly for his teammate. He had no toxic ego. He didn't need the limelight on the pitch today.
Because he knew, in exactly three days, he was going to own the entire country.
---
T-Minus Ten Minutes to Midnight
Date: January 14, 2013
Time: 11:50 PM
Location: Across India
The winter night blanketed the subcontinent, but millions of screens burned bright in the darkness.
In cramped engineering hostels in Hyderabad, in the lavish bedrooms of South Mumbai, in the bustling cyber cafes of Patna, and in the quiet suburban homes of Delhi, an entire generation was wide awake.
The URL www.nexus.in/bolt was loaded on millions of browsers.
Since the jaw-dropping launch event a week prior, the hype for the Bolt had not just sustained; it had mutated into absolute hysteria. The ₹12,999 price tag for a phone boasting aerospace aluminum, PranaOS, offline Assistant, and a revolutionary camera had defied all economic logic.
Now, there were only ten minutes left until the buying portal unlocked.
In his dorm room, Ravi's fingers tapped nervously against his desk. He, Amit, and Sandeep had pooled three different internet connections—a LAN cable, a USB dongle, and a mobile hotspot—just to ensure they had redundancy.
"Refresh it. Refresh it now," Amit urged, bouncing his leg anxiously.
"Don't refresh too much, you'll get IP-banned by their firewall!" Ravi snapped back, staring at the digital countdown timer ticking away on the sleek black NEXUS homepage.
00:09:45... 00:09:44...
In the NEXUS Command Center, located deep within the Hi-Tec City headquarters, the atmosphere was akin to a NASA mission control room during a rocket launch.
Rows of software engineers sat behind glowing monitors, monitoring server loads, payment gateway APIs, and traffic distribution algorithms. At the front of the room, an exhausted but wired Arjun Reddy paced back and forth, holding a mug of black coffee.
"Traffic status?" Arjun barked, looking up at the massive central monitor displaying a heat map of India.
"Sir, we have 4.2 million unique visitors currently idling on the holding page," the lead server architect replied, wiping sweat from his brow. "HTTP requests are spiking by five thousand percent every minute. The load balancers are working overtime."
Arjun looked at the empty leather chair in the corner of the executive suite. Siddanth was miles away, currently fast asleep in a five-star hotel room in Kochi, preparing for the second ODI against England. The Architect had left the digital war entirely in Arjun's hands.
"Four million people for one million phones," Arjun muttered to himself, his voice tight. He looked at the lead server architect. "If the payment gateway crashes, the media will tear us apart tomorrow."
"It won't crash, sir," the architect assured him. "Whoever wrote the gateway integration is a genius. The servers are set to scale dynamically using the shadow nodes of the server."
(A/n: I don't know what that means)
00:00:10... 00:00:09...
Across India, millions of fingers hovered over mice and trackpads.
00:00:03... 00:00:02... 00:00:01...
$$BUY NOW$$
The button turned bright, electric blue.
Ravi slammed his mouse button. The page loaded instantly—PranaOS server optimization at its finest. He selected the Matte Black 16GB variant, hit checkout, autofilled his debit card details, and clicked submit.
An OTP arrived on his phone. He punched it in, his hands shaking.
Processing...
A green checkmark appeared on the screen.
$$Order Confirmed. Delivery by Jan 20th.$$
"YES!" Ravi screamed, jumping out of his chair and hugging Amit. "I got it! I got it!"
Sandeep, on his own laptop next to him, groaned in despair. "Mine is stuck on the loading page! Come on, come on!"
Back in the NEXUS Command Center, the numbers on the massive screen were moving so fast they were a blur.
"Inventory dropping!" an engineer shouted. "10,000 units sold... 30,000... 50,000... Sir, the payment gateways are processing twelve thousand transactions a second! They are holding!"
Arjun stared at the screen, his mouth slightly open. He was watching over thirteen billion rupees in gross merchandise value being generated in real-time.
"It's staggering," Arjun murmured to himself. "Even at break-even pricing, the cash flow is insane."
He remembered his conversation with Siddanth when they first talked about the price. 'We aren't here to make a profit on the hardware, Arjun. We put a Bolt in every pocket, make NEXUS a household name, and lock them into our software ecosystem. In two years, the revenue from NEXUS Pay, Vibe, and the app store will eclipse hardware sales ten to one.'
"70,000... 90,000... 99,000..."
The lead engineer slammed his hand on his desk. "Stock depleted! We are sold out!"
Arjun looked at the stopwatch in his hand. 00:10:14.
They had sold out smartphones in exactly ten minutes and fourteen seconds. It was a world record. Nothing in the history of consumer electronics had ever moved this fast.
"Activate Protocol B," Arjun ordered, his voice cutting through the cheers of the engineering team. He tapped his headset. "Push the update. Change the 'Sold Out' banner to 'Pre-Order Now'. Let them backorder. And scale up the Medchal assembly line to three shifts starting tomorrow. Hire whoever you need."
As the engineers scrambled to execute the orders, Arjun pulled out his phone and sent a single text message to his best friend.
Date: January 15, 2013
Time: 6:30 AM
Location: Team Hotel, Kochi
Hundreds of miles south, the morning sun was just beginning to rise over the backwaters of Kochi.
Inside a quiet, luxurious hotel room, Siddanth Deva opened his eyes. Thanks to his
Perfect Rhythm passive skill, he woke up feeling completely energized and refreshed, entirely unbothered by the fact that his company had just broken the Indian internet a few hours ago. He hadn't stayed up. He had a match to play today; the Vice-Captain needed his rest.
He reached over to the nightstand and unplugged his Bolt 1. A notification was waiting on the screen.
Arjun:All units sold out in 10 mins 14 secs. Protocol B active. Backorders climbing. You're a madman. Go win your match today.
Siddanth let out a slow, satisfied exhale. He sat up in bed and opened a classified, heavily encrypted terminal on his personal device to check the shadow server logs. Floating the manufacturing costs for the next batch of devices which was going to be astronomically expensive, but he was prepared.
$$HFT Algorithm Status: Optimal$$$$Global Market Siphon (24hrs): +\$4.2 Million$$$$Hardware Subsidy Protocol: Covered$$
"Perfect," Siddanth murmured to the empty room. He closed the terminal and got out of bed to begin his morning stretches. The digital war was won for the night; now he just had to deal with the English cricket team.
---
Sankranti Morning
Date: January 15, 2013
Location: The Rao Household, Hyderabad
The morning sun bathed the city of Hyderabad in a warm, golden glow. It was Makar Sankranti, the harvest festival, and the Rao household in the middle-class neighborhood of Tarnaka was as chaotic as ever.
The scent of burning camphor, fresh jasmine flowers, and boiling sweet pongal wafted from the kitchen, battling the smell of the turmeric and colorful rangoli powders that decorated the front porch.
Krithika, dressed in a beautiful, vibrant yellow half-saree, was sitting cross-legged on the living room sofa, her wet hair wrapped in a towel. She was trying to watch the morning news, which was entirely dominated by headlines about the NEXUS Bolt 1 selling a million units in ten minutes, but the noise of her mother, Suma, giving rapid-fire instructions from the kitchen was drowning out the TV.
"Anjali! Did you bring the mango leaves for the door?!" Suma yelled over the sound of a whistling pressure cooker.
"I brought them an hour ago, Amma! They are on the table!" Anjali, Krithika's younger sister, yelled back, lounging on the floor while scrolling through Facebook on her phone.
Suddenly, the sharp ring of the doorbell cut through the domestic chaos.
"I'll get it!" Krithika called out, jumping off the sofa.
She opened the front door to find a bewildered-looking courier delivery executive.
"Delivery for... Ms. Krithika Rao?" the courier asked, glancing at the clipboard.
"That's me," Krithika said. She signed the papers, her hands slightly shaky, and took the box. The man gave her a curt, respectful nod, and they both left.
Krithika quickly locked the door and rushed back into the living room.
"Who was it?" Anjali asked, sitting up and eyeing the box suspiciously. "Are you ordering cosmetics again? You know Dad is going to yell at you for using his credit card."
"Shut up, Anjali. I didn't order anything," Krithika muttered, placing the box on the coffee table. She grabbed a pair of scissors from the TV stand.
Anjali scrambled up from the floor and crowded next to her, her nosiness getting the better of her. "Then what is it? It's too heavy to be a book."
Krithika sliced through the tape and pulled back the cardboard flaps.
Inside, nestled in custom foam padding, was a sleek, utterly minimalist matte-black box. The only marking on it was a subtle, embossed silver lightning bolt.
Anjali gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Oh my god."
She had watched the launch stream. Everyone in her college had watched it.
"Is that... the Bolt?" Anjali asked, her voice dropping to an excited, teasing whisper. She elbowed Krithika hard in the ribs, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Look at Mr. Billionaire Boyfriend flexing! The Vice-Captain of India actually sent you one!"
"Anjali, shut up!" Krithika hissed, panicking, trying to shove the box behind a throw pillow.
Too late. The commotion had summoned the matriarch. Suma marched out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, a stern look on her face.
"What happened? Why are you whispering like thieves on a festival morning?" Suma demanded, looking between her two daughters. Her eyes landed on the black box Krithika was awkwardly trying to hide. "What is that?"
Krithika froze. She couldn't exactly say, Oh, my secret boyfriend, the Vice-Captain of the Indian Cricket team who is currently a multi-billionaire tech CEO, sent it to me directly from his factory.
Krithika composed herself, she plastered a bright, innocent smile on her face and pulled the box out.
"I won a contest, Amma!" Krithika lied smoothly. "A few days ago, on Twitter. This new phone company was doing a giveaway for college students, and I wrote an essay, and they picked my name! Look, I won a phone!"
Suma's stern expression instantly melted into one of proud maternal joy. She walked over and looked at the box. "Is this that new phone? The 'Bolt' thing everyone on the news is screaming about?"
"Yes, Amma. Exactly that one," Krithika said, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"Well, look at you!" Suma beamed, patting Krithika's cheek affectionately. "So smart. Winning competitions. See, Anjali, you should learn from your sister instead of wasting time on Facebook. Very good, Krithika. It is an auspicious day to get a new item in the house."
Suddenly, the smell of burning milk wafted into the living room.
"Aiyyo, the payasam!" Suma gasped, instantly forgetting about the phone, and sprinted back into the kitchen.
The moment her mother was out of sight, Krithika dropped the innocent smile and shot Anjali a terrifying, lethal glare.
Anjali burst into silent giggles, clutching her stomach. "'I wrote an essay and they picked my name!'" she mocked flawlessly, wiping a tear from her eye. "Please. The only thing you picked was the hottest cricketer in the country. You're so lucky Amma doesn't know how to use Twitter, or she'd know NEXUS didn't do any giveaways."
"If you say one more word, I will tell Dad about your physics grade," Krithika threatened, though her face was burning a bright, embarrassed red.
Anjali held up her hands in surrender, laughing nervously. "Okay, okay, sorry! My lips are sealed! But seriously, Krithi... open it! I want to see what a phone built by 'The Devil' looks like."
Krithika carefully broke the seal and lifted the lid. The Bolt 1 lay there, a stunning slab of premium dark glass and aerospace aluminum. It looked impossibly sleek.
Krithika picked it up. It felt heavy, premium, and perfectly balanced. She pressed the power button on the side.
One. Two. Three.
Exactly 3.2 seconds later, the screen flooded with vibrant color, the PranaOS home screen rendering flawlessly. A setup prompt appeared, written in clean English. She selected 'English', but noticed the seamless toggle that allowed the entire OS to switch to Telugu in a millisecond.
She quickly bypassed the initial setups, her heart racing, until she reached the dialer. And called him using his private number, which only his friends and family know of.
The phone rang twice.
"Happy Sankranti, Headache," Siddanth's deep, calm voice filled her ear. He sounded perfectly rested, likely because he had slept like a baby while the rest of the country panicked over his servers at midnight.
"Happy Sankranti, Mama's Boy," Krithika smiled, walking into her bedroom and shutting the door, leaving Anjali pouting in the living room. "I got the package. It practically gave my sister a heart attack."
Siddanth chuckled softly. "Did you like the phone? PranaOS running smooth?"
"It's incredible. It really is. The matte finish is gorgeous, and the screen is so bright," Krithika said, sitting on her bed, admiring the device. "Thank you. I really, really love the gift. And you do know this is the first gift you've ever actually given me, right?"
"Nope," Siddanth replied immediately, his tone dropping into a smooth, teasing register. "This is not a gift."
Krithika frowned, spinning the phone in her hand. "What do you mean it's not a gift? You sent it to my house with a man who looked like John Wick. Are you going to invoice me for ₹12,999?"
"I don't invoice my girlfriend for hardware," Siddanth laughed. "I mean it's not a gift because it's just a tool. It's so you can actually text me without your old phone lagging for ten minutes. Your first real gift from me should be special."
Krithika felt a sudden, massive flock of butterflies erupt in her stomach. She twisted a strand of her wet hair around her finger, smiling foolishly at the wall. "Oh really? And what exactly would that be?"
"Just wait and see," Siddanth said mysteriously. "I have something planned."
"You're infuriating, you know that?" Krithika sighed happily.
"It's part of my charm," Siddanth replied. "Listen, I have to go downstairs. Dhoni wants to run some fielding drills before the toss this afternoon."
"Okay. Go destroy them. Bowl fast, don't get out, and don't look at any of those cheerleaders," Krithika commanded in her best strict-girlfriend voice.
"My Focus only locks onto the stumps, Krithi," Siddanth promised, his voice softening. "I'll call you tonight."
"Bye, and Good luck."
Krithika hung up the phone. She fell back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling, the sleek Bolt 1 resting on her chest.
Krithika hugged the Bolt to her chest and smiled. It was going to be a very good Sankranti.