He must have rushed to our place straight from work, I realized, suddenly feeling a sharp twinge of guilt. For me. The self-obsessed little moron who hadn’t even thanked him yet. He hadn’t even had enough time to change and ideally he should have been at that conference himself hours ago— the rest of the Blue Strawberry team would be there in full force by now.

‘Thanks, Yudi,’ I said in a small voice, staring straight ahead. I was feeling too ashamed to look him in the eye. Yudi didn’t reply and, swerving sharply, finally overtook the Tata Sumo whose driver promptly rolled down the window and stuck his middle finger out at us.

We drove in silence for another two minutes before stopping at a signal. I took a deep breath and finally mustered up the courage to speak again. ‘Yudi…’ I began, and he shot me a glance, ‘… thanks for doing all this.’

‘No problem,’ Yudi said simply and turned his face back towards the road.

‘Why are you doing this for me anyway?’ I asked suddenly in a miserable voice before wishing I hadn’t opened my mouth. Why did I always blurt these things out without thinking?

Yudi didn’t reply as the traffic parted in front of us and he switched gears to move the car ahead. We jerked to a stop again a little later and I looked down miserably, gripping the seat till my knuckles turned white. I felt Yudi shift in the driver’s seat and suddenly his hand was on mine.

‘Nervous?’ he asked in a strangely gentle voice and squeezed my hand. I nodded wordlessly. I wasn’t nervous— I was petrified.

‘Don’t be,’ Yudi went on in the same gentle voice. ‘I know what I’m doing. All you need to do is go up there and tell those guys about your launch, your project. You don’t need any rehearsals to talk about something you’ve been living and breathing for the last six months. Just let your passion and conviction speak for you. Okay?’

I nodded again, still speechless. I wanted to say something, to desperately reach out to Yudi in some way, but I was feeling strangely choked up.

‘Hey, I almost forgot!’ Yudi grinned suddenly and slipped a disc into the car’s DVD player. The strains of ‘Tum mile…’ rang out and I looked at him, my eyes wide.

‘On loop, just for you,’ he said, continuing to smile. ‘It’s your favourite song, right? Maybe listening to it will help you relax.’

‘Yes, but how come you are listening to it?’ I asked in amazement. ‘This isn’t your kind of music at all!’

‘I’ve been listening to it for some time now,’ Yudi said, looking away. He then gunned the car forward furiously, and we raced through the last stretch at a heart-thumping pace. Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the foyer of the Taj Palace where the conference was happening. Yudi handed the car over to a valet and we raced into the lobby and then down a wide flight of stairs to the ballroom—the venue for the conference. Yudi raced ahead towards the closed door, stopping just outside the entrance where a large board proclaimed ‘GF ANNUAL SALES CONFERENCE’, and I skidded to a stop behind him.