The Face-off

He woke up, a little late as usual (Sunday nights were especially busy), and dragged his feet out of his room as he walked to the washrooms.

“Hey Mandya! You’re up early. I was about to go downstairs for breakfast. Want me to wait for you?”
“Out of my way.” He growled more than spoke.

As he stumbled towards the washrooms, he passed a couple of meek first year students, or “freshers” as they were commonly known, walking quietly, trying to keep a low profile lest a senior should notice them. He angled towards them and they shrank even more. He spotted a copy of this morning’s Campus Gazette in one of their hands, and snatched it as he walked past them. It’s not that he was interested in reading it – not today, in any case. His little side project wouldn’t make it into the Gazette until the next morning. He snatched it just to terrify the trembling little twats. Sure enough, he tossed it in the bin on his way into the toilet without so much as reading the headline.

Under normal circumstances, he would probably do more than just snatch the paper because, well, why pass on an excellent opportunity to have a little fun! Today though, was worse than usual days. One of their enthusiastic professors had arranged for a few students to attend a seminar by a renowned venture capitalist and the professor had, to his utter surprise and dismay, included him in the group. He wasn’t sure if that was the professor’s desperate attempt to enlighten a lost student or if it was just a plain old fuck-you to the student that annoyed him the most. If it was the latter, it was working.

On their way there in the college bus, as he had foreseen, he struggled with painful boredom amid the excited chatter of all the dorks around him. He missed his own clique. Every now and then, he’d catch a proclamation that so-and-so ‘is a god’, or that so-and-so’s paper on shadow prices was ‘mind-blowing’, and he’d scoff mentally. These guys really didn’t have a clue. There are only two kinds of people in the world — the ones with power and the ones who don’t matter. Those with power don’t have idols, only goals. Idols are the luxury of the sheep.

Their bus pulled into the venue and all the students got off, the excited chatter still continuing in subdued tones. He had been dragging his feet and deliberately fell a little behind others. As he neared the entrance of the hall, he joined the queue he had seen his classmates join, along with other attendees.

“Sir, badge?”, a scrawny person behind a counter at the entrance asked Mandya as his turn to enter the hall arrived.

He suddenly remembered — they had been given badges that allowed entry into the venue. On the same day as he’d received it, he’d tossed his badge in a corner in his room and promptly forgotten all about it.

“Oh! It was just here! Man, this is weird, where’s it gone?” Mandya said, in the most concerned voice he could conjure up, “Shoot! Look, I’m from Bartholomew’s. I just came in that bus out there. All my friends are in there, they’ll tell you.”
“Sir, badge, sir”
“Hey, these guys sent an email to all attendees. Just show him that.” Someone advised from behind him.
“Oh yeah. Hey look, I lost the badge. But I have an invitation.” Mandya said, as he fished his phone out.
“Sir, badge?”
He was getting exasperated now. He held his phone up.
“Invitation, you idiot! I have an invitation. See?”
“Ok sir. Sorry, sir. Give, I need code.”
He handed the phone and waited impatiently. He could feel the stares on his back, but he could care less. Cattle, all of them.
“Thank you, sir”
He snatched the phone out of the guy’s hand and walked in. Could the day get any worse, he wondered.

It was a little heartening for him to discover that they had been seated all the way to the back of the auditorium. Looking forward to a good snooze, he made his way over the knees and toes of other attendees. The little tussle at the entrance had caused him to be a little late. He took his seat just as the lecture began.

“Welcome, everyone, to the age of entrepreneurship! The time when the rich are pouring money into bets, some even ill-advised, and ideas are flowering into reality at an unprecedented speed. The working class is reaping benefits of sudden employment and the technologists and the data scientists are turning into our new rock stars. But where does all of this lead? Is this only a change or real progress? Let’s talk!”

He gave a soundless groan — this was going to be a long, long morning. Just then, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out. It was a text from an unknown number. Impatiently, he opened the message to read, almost certain that it would be spam.

P: Hey! How have you been! How was the Thailand trip :)

That was confusing. It’s not often that he lost someone’s number. 
He: Who’s this? I don’t have your number. 
P: ?? You’re kidding, right?

Irritating fool. A straight question deserves a straight answer. He shut his phone and shifted his attention back to his solemn effort at ignoring the drone of the lecturer.

P: Ok. You’re serious. Wow, you’ve lost my number already. I meant it when I said we should meet for a coffee some day, but I guess that makes just one of us. I get the message. Bye.
He: Look, I don’t mean to be rude. I just changed phones a couple of months ago. Lost all numbers.

He lied. He put the phone back in his lap, expecting it to buzz again. He was beginning to smell a prank here — it would have to be one of the guys. They had already teased him to no end for this ‘trip to dorkville’, but evidently, they hadn’t had enough.

Well, perhaps, he thought, if they want to have fun, he’ll have fun with them. Offence is the best defence. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do. He picked up his phone and typed a message to one of the usual suspects.

He: Grow up, assholes.
…
Motu: WTF!! Dude. WHAT. I’m in Aggu’s lecture.
He: Sure. Yeah. Fuck off man, don’t play around. I’m in the front row, practically under the nose of the dork king.

He lied, of course. If that makes them think his situation is worse than it is, may be they’ll become a little lax and slip up.

Motu: Dude what are you talking about??? What play around??

Fine. Let them drag this on.

A few minutes passed and he realised that the unknown number hadn’t pinged back with anything else. That was curious. He knew these gags, they played these tricks on each other all the time — silence was not part of the script because it’s never entertaining for anybody to stay quiet. Perhaps it wasn’t a prank after all. Or may be his offence changed their strategy. Either way, he decided to prod it a little.

He: Hello? You there?
P: I have my phone with me, yes, if that’s what you mean.

Wow. An insult. Definitely not a prank, he surmised. His ego a little hurt with the cold tone, he decided to leave it be. He didn’t need the grief, he thought, dropping the phone back into his lap. A few minutes passed, and the lecture took a turn for the worse. The voice of the lecturer became a background hum in his mind and he began to feel the lost sleep coming back with a vengeance. His thoughts started wandering, latching onto random things like the peculiar lisp of the lecturer that made him extend his s’s each time he said plural words: economicssss, dividendssss, marketssss. Soon, he caught himself thinking that neither Motu nor the unknown number had made any moves for the past few minutes.

Oh what’s the harm, he thought, anything is better than listening to this guy.

He: Listen Mr. Sarco. I texted back because I felt bad. You still haven’t told me who you are.
P: Hmm. Ok, sorry for the sarcasm. And it’s Ms. Sarco :)
Ah, a girl! Interesting.
He: Oh, ok. Apology accepted. Truce? :) 
P: Yes :) Truce. 
He: So — who are you?
P: Oh for god’s sake, Maddy, you really don’t have my number?

“Maddy” — peculiar!
He: Is this aunty Jai?
P: Ohhho. And to think I thought you had a crush on me! No, this is no aunty! Just because I called you by your childhood nickname doesn’t mean I am some old aunt.

A crush! This was definitely becoming entertaining. He switched to Motu’s thread.

He: Dudesss, there’s this chick sending me textssss. No idea who she isss but says we used to be a thing or something. 
He chuckled silently.

Motu: Seriously?? Even in an economics seminar, you get lucky?? Bastard. And here I am, stuck, staring at the hairy nose of Mr Agarwal! And what’s with the ssss?
He: Well, life’s a bitch, amigossss. And right now, it’s my bitch. Haha.
Motu: Yeah yeah. So she won’t tell you who she is?
he: Not yet. Seems to be in a playful mood!
Motu: Whoa. Keep me informed then!
He: Will do!

Switching back to the unknown number, he continued the conversation.

He: Oh yeah? Why don’t you give me a hint then.
P: Well, I know you go to Bartholomew’s. You’re from Massgaon, you have two elder brothers, you had a girlfriend, Naina, with whom you broke up a few months ago.
He: Right. So you know how to get online. Congratulations.
P: Oh, not impressed, I see. How about this: I know you like your gadgets. In fact, I know you’ve been eyeing one of those fancy adventure cameras lately.
He: Well, you got that right. But you could’ve known that easily too — everyone I know will probably tell you that I like gadgets.
P: Ok. But do they all know that you’re almost in love with the Go Pro Hero Session? 
He: Wow, really, who are you?
P: Oh come on. Have some fun. Here’s another: I know your favourite movie is Schindler’s List. You like the whole black and white thing they did.
He: Favourite movie! What, are we school kids now?
P: Haha, you’re right. Sorry. No, we didn’t meet in St. Phillip’s, though. 
He: So you know where I went to school. And you called me Maddy. Did we meet as kids then? Did you also live in Lake Heights?
P: Nope! Speaking of Lake Heights, that was quite a party you guys had last month. Wish I had been there.
he: So you know any of the guys from there?
P: Well, sort of. There’s Benjy, Gullu and oh, Motu. Of course, Motu. How’s his arm? That accident was quite bad.
He: Oh he’s doing OK now. Back to attending classes, much to his dismay. The cast comes off in a week. He was crying like a wimp in the hospital. So how do you know Motu?
P: Ah, you almost got me there. You always were smart.
He: Haha. Not as smart as you, I see. I must’ve had a crush on you, for sure :)
P: Reel it in, mister. Haven’t even guessed who I am and you’re already flirting with me. Seriously! Men.
he: Ok, is this Laila?
P: Ohhh, no! That hag!

Hilarious! Motu’s got to hear about this.

He: Motu, she called Laila a hag!!
<Message send failure>
He hit retry a couple of times, but with no avail: <Message send failure>. The lecture hall must be blocking the network somehow, he thought. He got back to the girl, not wanting the trail to go cold.

He: Lol! You got that right! Hmm. Is it Suman?
P: Nope, but don’t stop. Tell me who else you’ve had a crush on >:)
He: Hey! Not fair! 
P: Well, life’s a bitch, amigossss.
He: Wait. What? What did you mean by that?
P: I meant:
P: Well, life’s a bitch, amigossss. And right now, it’s my bitch. Haha.
He: What is this. Motu? Is this you, asshole?
P: Ok, here’s another one:
P: Dude, instead of going through all that, why don’t you just talk to the dean? He’s my yaar, dude. He owes me one. I’ll set it straight for you. No worries!

Now, he was puzzled. None of the guys would have this text. They didn’t even know about this text. He had sent it last week to this student from another department, where Mandya was trying to make some potentially useful connections.

P: Hey sweetheart. What are you thinking about right now? Tell me no….

He stared dumbfounded at a text he had sent to his then girlfriend, almost 4 months ago. This didn’t feel right. For the first time, the thought of a third possibility crossed his mind: That this wasn’t a prank, and that this wasn’t a lost old crush. This was an attack.

He: listen you prick. You think you can scare me with these little tricks of yours? You better watch out. I’m gonna find you and when I do, I have some tricks of my own that you’ll wish you never found out about.

He: now fuck off

…

P: Oh just when we thought we were getting along so well.

Mandya locked his phone and steadfastly stared in the general direction of the lecturer, his pulse racing. His instant reaction to the situation was to shut it out, and hope that if he ignored it, he could pretend that there was no trouble, that he had nothing to worry about. Of course, it was just a knee jerk reaction, because he did have a lot to worry about. Having some stranger dip their fingers so deep into his secrets was as good a reason to be worried as any.

P: What, are you giving me the silent treatment now? I though we had established that we aren’t school kids anymore.

P: Oh don’t pretend that you are interested in that lecture. You couldn’t care less about it. You have to admit that this is much more fun, isn’t it?

For a moment, Mandy got a sneaking suspicion that his attacker was right here, inside the lecture hall. He surreptitiously glanced around the hall. Did Prof Shah, their chaperone for the day, glance away just as Mandy looked at him? No, he thought, he was being paranoid.

P: You might probably be worried that I’m there, in the hall, watching you. Relax — I’m not. I don’t need to be there. I just wanted you to come to this lecture, but I don’t need to be around you to talk to you, to capture your attention or for that matter, to practically make you do anything, really.

He: What do you mean wanted me to come here? What you’ve planted a bomb or something?

P: Haha.. God, no. That would be too cruel and inefficient. Bombs are so 2000. And anyway, don’t you think you’re overestimating your own importance? You are not worth the loss of so many other innocent lives. No, I just wanted to talk to you.

He: Talk to me? You just want to talk, you lonely little shit? Alright, let’s talk. How’s it like living in your tiny little dorky room with all your gizmos and books for company?

P: Good! You’ve already guessed that I’m hacking you. And to answer the question, it’s not so bad actually. I quite like all my technology. Alright, now I need to ask you something. Did you really get a new phone a couple of months ago?

He: That’s what you want to know?? What games are you playing? What do you really want?

P: No games. Just talk.

Mandya’s mind was racing. He needed to get a handle on this guy. He needed to find a way out.

P: Well? Answer the question.

He: Yeah, sure. I changed phones. My old phone fell in the toilet.

P: Well, you must know that I can tell that’s not true. I am looking at messages you’ve sent to your friends, websites you’ve visited on your phone more than half a year ago.

He: Hey you get the hell out of my phone, you crook! You have no business being in here.

P: I’m waiting for an answer.

He: What do you want to know that for?! Ok, fine. I sync everything to the cloud so I don’t lose stuff. I just downloaded all that old stuff into my new phone.

P: You don’t sync. You don’t trust the cloud. You use hard drives. Maddy, this doesn’t need to be worse. We only have to be honest with each other.

He: How do you know about my hard drives? What do you want man? If you already know the answer why the hell are you asking me?!

P: All I want you to do is take this seriously, Maddy. Just give me an honest answer.

He: Oh god, alright! I lied about changing phones. There. Happy?

P: See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it? Alright, let’s move on. Why did you lie about it?

He: Because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I’m a nice guy like that.

P: Bullshit! Why did you lie?

He: Aw, did I piss you off you freak?

P: Quite the contrary. You’re more predictable than a monkey.

He: Oh yeah? Watch me as I shut this phone, and your damn game, both down. Didn’t predict that did you, psycho.

P: Oh, in fact, if only you could see exactly how predictable that response was, you’d be surprised. Go ahead, shut down. You need your phone more than I do, so I’ll be here when you decide to humour me a bit more. Bye.

To hell with this, thought Mandya. He shut his phone down. He was still seething with anger. This morning was getting worse by the minute. He felt suffocated in this stupid hall with its stuffy people. He wished there really was a bomb here. These fools were just a burden on the earth.

A few minutes passed and Mandya became restless. The attacker was right, of course. Shutting down wasn’t helping anything, it was only delaying whatever was going on here. What was going on here, though? He needed to find out. He had to find another way to skin this cat. He turned the phone back on and went back to the text thread.

He: Alright. You win. Just tell me what you want me to do, man.

P: Like I said, all I want is to talk to you. Just do that and this will all be over soon.

He: And what if I don’t want to talk to you? You can’t wait around forever.

P: I’m sure you have realised by now that I have unprecedented access into your secrets right? I possibly couldn’t have known so much about you from just an online search or by just one hack into your messages. So sure — go ahead and ignore me. I’ll entertain myself by watching every single conversation you have.

He: I’ll change phones, passwords, everything. I’ll delete all my accounts and start new ones.

P: It’s endearing, even if in a naive sort of way, that you think you have the choice. You know, the average person has about 90 online accounts today. And Maddy, my friend, you are no average person when it comes to online personas, are you? You can never delete everything.

Mandya knew that the attacker was right. At least, they were talking, though. Mandya thought this should buy him enough time to think of something.

He: 90 accounts! You’re bluffing. Even if that’s true, I just have to delete a few key accounts and I’ll be out. I don’t care about most of those unnecessary ones I made.

P: That’s the beauty of it, though, isn’t it? That illusion of control you have. A wise man once said, take away the knowledge from a prisoner that he is trapped, and the prisoner loses the need to escape. Information is more powerful than steel bars. We all have willingly walked into this dazzling, paradise of a prison we call the internet, truly believing every step of the way, that we can always leave if we wanted to. So, go ahead, Maddy — I invite you to bang your head against the bars and when you’re tired, bloodied, and resigned to the truth; as I said before, I’ll be here.

He: Alright, stop spinning stories. Why are you hacking me? Why are you harassing me?

P: Well, imagine you’re walking down the road one day, and you happen to see a cat trapped in a tree. Now you’re tall enough to reach the cat and get it down. Would you need a reason to do it? Or would you just do it because that’s the right thing, the humane thing to do? I’m not harassing you, Maddy. I’m here to help you.

Mandya was getting impatient. The conversation was getting too sinister for his comfort, and he wanted to get to the point. What was at play?

He: Alright, fine, you got my attention. I’ll play your stupid game. But if you want answers from me, I need answers from you.

P: Oh I’m pretty sure you’re not in a position to make demands like these. But hey, let’s give it a try — it might be fun! So let the game begin. Your turn to answer my question. Why did you lie about your phone?

He: I don’t know man. I didn’t know who you were, didn’t know if it was a prank and I am in a damn lecture. I didn’t feel honest information was crucial.

P: Alright, Good going. Go ahead, ask your question.

He: How did you know so much stuff about me?

P: I’ve been watching your online comings and goings. That was the easy part. I also hacked into your accounts — not all of them, just about 12 of the important ones. I’m now analysing your communications and online activity to learn more about you. It’s easy once you have a couple of key entry points.

Horrified as Mandya was to read this, he was glad to find a way to prise some answers out of his attacker. Perhaps he had found his way to overcome the situation.

He: What entry points?

P: Oops. Your turn’s over Maddy. My turn. How exactly did Motu meet with an accident?

Mandya felt a sudden pang of anger and guilt.

He: Hey you leave my friends out of this!

P: Sorry, can’t do. This is about your life, Maddy. And your life includes your friends. Now, be honest. How exactly did Motu meet with an accident?

He: He fell off his bike because he’s a shitty rider. The meatball is just too heavy for two wheels to balance.

Despite his situation and anger, Mandya sniggered a little at his own joke.

P: Oh come on, Maddy. I thought you wanted this to be over. Honesty is your way out of this.

He: Oh alright. You think it’s my fault, don’t you? Well it wasn’t my fault, ok? Sure, I stole his bike for a ride the day before, and I might have damaged the side stand a little bit. But that fat bastard is as forgetful as they come. He leaves his side stand out all the time. It could’ve been him, heck, even he himself thinks it was his fault.

P: Sure, you had nothing to do with him blaming himself. He came up with that convenient explanation all by himself.

He: Well I only suggested it to him because it’s most likely the truth! No matter what sorts of hocus pocus you are running with your geeky toys, you can’t know if that’s not the truth! Enough. I’ve answered your question now, it’s my turn. What entry points?

P: Well, I had a way into your key accounts, but until today, I was still blocked because I realised I needed your phone to authenticate myself. Once I had installed some code in your phone to clone it, I was all set up and ready to begin!

He: Begin what! What are you doing to me? And who are you?? How did you install stuff on my phone?? I never let my phone out of my sight!

And then Mandya froze. He did, in fact, let his phone out of his sight just a few minutes before all of this began.

He: It was you! You’re that little freak from the front desk! I got you now, you twat!

P: Not a bad guess, Maddy. Pity it’s the wrong one. He did help, but without knowing that he was helping.

Just then, Mandya remembered why he let his phone out of his sight in the first place — it wasn’t natural for him to do that. He remembered the disembodied voice of a person suggesting from behind him, planting the idea that he should show the invitation email.

He: You’re the guy that made me show the email! You lied to me! You ARE here, then!

P: Bravo! Yes, I had to come here because even though I was sure you would forget that badge, I wasn’t sure it was enough to make you relinquish your phone. If it’s any help, I didn’t stick around. I left as soon as I saw you hand the phone over. I’d left a wireless contraption under the desk that uploaded my little gift into your phone. But enough about me. Tell me, Maddy, what does pondyjhakaas123 do for a living?

Mandya’s heart missed a beat. He could sense that if there was a point to this attacker’s ramblings, it should be around the corner now.

He: Listen, back the fuck off. You don’t know who you’re dealing with. I don’t need to meet you to screw up your life.

P: Oh give up the tough guy act already. Answer the question. What does pondyjhakaas123 do for a living? Or, to put it in another way, why did Naina break up with you?

Mandya was beginning to feel panicky. Things were innocuous till now, but if this person knew about his darker secrets, he had a lot at stake. This was no casual attack.

P: Look, don’t worry about incriminating yourself. You must know that I cannot use any of this legally, not without getting myself into trouble too, right? This is just the two of us, having an honest, heart-to-heart conversation. So go on. Let it all out.

He: It’s a YouTube account I have. I upload some clips there which give people a preview of stuff they can buy from me. Then they get in touch with me on my website and I sell to them.

P: You have to be completely honest with me Maddy. “Stuff” is not something everyone can sell on YouTube. You were up not more than a few hours ago in the wee hours of the night, working on said “stuff”. Your latest upload on that channel is from 4 AM today morning, Maddy.

He: Fine. It’s porn, ok? There. I told you. Honest as I can be, asshole.

P: Not entirely. We cannot move on until you’re fully honest about it.

He: Look, alright. You got me. I’m a sick bastard. I recorded some of the girls at my college in ways they wouldn’t necessarily approve of. I know it’s not very nice of me. Naina told me in so many words. She found a clip on my computer that I was dumb enough to forget about. I told her I found it on the LAN, but she got furious that I even watched it. What does that bitch know anyway? I didn’t hear her complain when I bought her things with the money I made from these clips! Anyway — I get why you’re torturing me now. I learnt my lesson, alright? I won’t do it again, I promise. I will be better. Can we just get this over with now?

P: Oh you are far from repentant, Maddy. You even feel proud of it since the Gazette started covering these uploads. You will do it again. I’ve seen it. You’ve even been caught before, but you found a way out. At least you weren’t lying about the pull you have with your dean. No, you see, you need to realise avoiding punishment is not the answer. You have to come clean, and then learn to stick to it. Truth is not some choice to make when you fancy, it’s a way of life.

Mandya felt something he hadn’t felt for a long time: that sense of a helpless vertigo one gets just before they trip over a stone and are about to fall; in a moment of comprehension, they suddenly grasp what’s really happening, but at the same time, also realise there is nothing they can do about it. It was the realisation that not only was he losing control of the situation, but that he probably never had it in the first place.

He: Way of life, my foot! Are you the messiah who will show me the way? Are you going to be the light at the end of my dark tunnel, you prick? You think you can threaten me and scare me into the life of honesty? Tell me! It’s my turn to know!

P: No, you’re too far gone for that, Maddy. A few years ago, perhaps, but not now, not anymore. And anyway, I have no interest in salvation, it’s too limp and uncertain. My interest, as you can probably see by now, lies more in control. I’m going to force you into the life of honesty. I’m going to wrench this poisonous habit of sickening lies and deceit right out of your hands and thrust upon you, the better way of life. Not because you deserve it — you don’t — but because those around you deserve better than who you are today.

Mandya’s hands trembled with rage and frustration. All this talk about Motu’s accident and his break-up with Naina was getting to him. To compound it, this faceless attacker had the nerve to say things that nobody ever would dare to say to him in person.

He: Who are you to judge if I’m good or bad! What are you, Santa Clause? I’ll live the way I want, and if it’s good enough for me, it’s good enough for those around me.

P: Just look back at our conversation, Maddy. Your best friend and the girl you loved have already suffered just from being part of your miserable life. You will never opt for the truth if it’s the hard choice. So, I’m taking the choice out of your hands. It’s just a small, but fundamental, change. Think of it as an image consulting service to handle all your communication for you.

He: What, so now you’re going to put words in my mouth, huh? And so what if a couple of people got a little hurt along the way! That’s life. It’s hard. Everyone is after their own happiness and so am I. Why should I care about anything else? I am doing great!

P: Let’s really find out if that’s true. Here’s my next question to you: Why don’t you have any messages, emails, posts, calls or any sort of communication from your father in the last 5 months? What happened, that your father won’t talk to you anymore?

Mandya began to feel breathlessly claustrophobic, surrounded by these idiots still hooked to that droning loony on the stage. It had been almost an hour, and he was still stuck with these people. He desperately wanted to jump up and scream at everyone, to just burst wide open and get out of here. He couldn’t. He was trapped in these questions that he could no longer fight.

He: We had an argument. He threw me out of the house.

P: All the details, Maddy, complete honesty. That’s how this works.

He: I stole from him, alright? I was helping him with his online banking and he told me his bank password. So a few weeks later, I stole some money. It was pretty easy — he wouldn’t even dream of accusing me. The stupid old man. I stole a couple of times more, and then it was just too good to stop.

P: Why did he stop talking to you, Maddy?

He: He found out, ok? At first he thought it was his accountant, and he filed a case against the guy. Moron. But I’d made a couple of stupid mistakes along the way and the police tracked it down to me.

Mandya stopped typing. Memories of that hurtful day were like a blot on his mind that he had been only too willing to avoid.

P: Go on. Finish your answer.

He: My dad didn’t want to press charges, of course, spineless that he’s always been. He yelled at me like never before. The balls on the old man — all he has ever done is work his same old job for decades. What does he know, that he’ll tell me what life’s about? I’ve seen more of life already than he’ll ever see in all his meaningless years! Useless, broken man. I stormed out on my own out of there. I don’t need those people. I can take care of myself.

Mandya’s heart was pounding. His head ached. His back was drenched in sweat. He kept reminding himself that his father was an idiot and he was right to walk out of that house. He just couldn’t explain the lump in his throat right now.

P: Yes, the porn brings in a lot, I presume.

He: Why are you doing this? You already seem to know all these things about me. Why are you drudging it up — what’s in it for you, you pervert?

P: I’d love to say that it’s to teach you a lesson — a wake-up alarm for your life of lies and deceit. We both know you need one. Can you honestly say that this conversation hasn’t helped bring perspective to your own life for you? Lies have a way of silently piling up, spreading like a disease until they completely take over you without warning. But, as I said, I’m not interested in your salvation. If anything, I hope this discussion serves as a precursor to your future.

And anyway, my powers don’t lie in psychiatry, they lie, as you quite insightfully guessed early on, in technology. The reason why I’m talking to you at all, why I wanted to make sure you made it to this lecture, trapped in one place with no option but to talk to me (did you notice your calls or messages to others are blocked?), is because I need to train my algorithm. You see, a little while back, I came up with this nifty piece of code. Given enough of the right kind of inputs, it trains itself to emulate the digital counterpart of a person — like a sniffing dog hot on a scent. I had already trained it on all your publicly visible activity, of course, but that wasn’t nearly enough for what I had in mind. I needed your private communication, and most importantly, I needed to train it on a live conversation. Which makes our little chat, interesting as it is, also quite useful to me. I wasn’t lying when I told you — all I want is for you to talk to me. I must say, this worked much better than I expected. My algorithm has been predicting your responses with almost 90% accuracy for a while now. You really are more predictable than a monkey.

Mandya keep blinking at his phone. He just felt angry. Angry at everything, at the unknown attacker, at this lecture, its attendees, Motu, Naina and even at the fact that his eyes were moist right now.

P: Oh, too scared to talk now? Did I scare you off? Don’t worry Maddy. You’ve already given me what I needed. My bot has, thanks to your help, learnt enough about how you react, how you deal with sticky situations that usually lead to your lies and hence, most importantly, how and why you lie so much. All I need to do is deploy the bot in your life.

He: Deploy! Just listen to yourself. You think you will launch an army of my clones on me?

P: Not an army, just one. And not really a physical clone – it’s just a clone of your digital, virtual, faceless and body-less counterpart. It’s a version of you that lives only in the things you type, things you upload, send, receive and write.

He: Go to hell. I’ll stop using texts. You can’t touch me then! I’ll call everyone. I’ll tell them about you, about all of this.

P: Are you seriously telling me that you will never type a single word again? That you’ll only rely on phone calls? I’m not even asking you to look back on your own life — just do a google search about this. We, the youth today, entrenched in our love of technology as we are, send more than one text for every minute we spend actually talking. And you, my friend, are no average youth — you haven’t just gotten used to the anonymity the internet gives, you revel in it. This world with its reduced responsibility and consequences came to your deceitful mind as second nature. For far too long you’ve lurked in this convenient darkness, doing your dirty business behind these digital masks. Not anymore. My clone will be there to make sure. It will turn the Mandya that you are into the Maddy that should’ve been, the real Maddy. The honest, conscientious Maddy. That’s what I’m calling it by the way – “Maddy”. Poetic, no?

He: You can’t do this. You can’t control me, you can’t manipulate people like that!

P: As a matter of fact, I can, and as of a few seconds ago, I do. It’s just a friendly oversight system run by my Maddy, for the benefit of you and those around you. And hey, as far as manipulating people goes, you have been manipulating people for your selfish motives all your life. I’m just giving you a tiny taste of your own medicine.

Mandya was breathing rapidly. Fury and fear were playing havoc on his nerves.

He: You asshole, I’ll find you! I’ll kill you!! I know who you are!

<Message send failure – low truth threshold>

“What the…” Maddy muttered under his breath, oblivious to the stares he was getting from his fellow attendees. He typed again.

He: I’ll find you! I’ll kill you, you jerk!!

<Message send failure – low truth threshold>

He: I’m not scared of you!!

<Message modified for truth threshold>

Maddy stared, not believing what he saw, as his text changed itself.

He: I… I’m scared!

P: Works like a charm! This might be uncomfortable for you in the beginning – to know he’s around, but you can just ignore him. He won’t bother you unless you lie. And trust me, he’ll know. You’ve helped him understand the subtleties of conversation – he knows a joke from sarcasm, and a lie from the truth. I am sure you will grow to like him. Oh and don’t waste your time trying to losing him; you can’t. You might have found your way around the virtual world but he lives there. He will follow you from account to account, from phone to phone. Well, this is where I take your leave and let you two get to know each other. This has been fun. Goodbye, Mandya.

Mandya’s mind was numb. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He switched to Motu’s text thread where his last message to him, about Laila being a hag, was still sitting around, waiting to be sent. He erased it and tried sending a new one, a deliberate lie:

He: Hey come out of the class. I’m waiting for you outside.

<Message send failure: low truth threshold>

Mandya didn’t even realise when the lecture got over and Prof Shah pulled him to his feet, with an irritated grunt. As he shuffled out of the hall with his head hung, behind his audibly satisfied classmates, he felt as if it was another lifetime ago that he had walked into the hall.