Stepping Into the Past, The Plan Begins

Mumbai, June 6, 1980 – 8:45 AM

Arjun stepped outside, the warm morning sun kissing his skin. The scent of damp earth, mixed with the distant aroma of freshly brewed chai and frying pakoras from a nearby stall, filled the air. It was the smell of Mumbai—raw, alive, and unmistakably real.

He took a deep breath, his senses overwhelmed.

The street in front of him was exactly as he remembered from his childhood, but without the towering skyscrapers, the rush of honking cars, or the sea of smartphones. Instead, there were small, modest buildings with faded paint, hand-painted signs advertising tailor shops and kirana stores, and the distant chime of a cycle bell as a milkman rode past.

A group of children—barefoot, their clothes slightly tattered but their faces full of joy—played a game of marbles near the roadside. A newspaper vendor sat by his wooden stall, stacks of The Times of India, Maharashtra Times, and Mid-Day arranged neatly in front of him.

On the opposite side of the street, a man in a white kurta-pajama was setting up his tea stall, carefully lighting a coal stove while chatting with an elderly customer who had already begun sipping on his first cup of the day.

This wasn't just a memory anymore.

This was real.

Arjun felt his heart pound in his chest.

"I've really gone back in time."

For a moment, he just stood there, taking it all in.

Then, a familiar voice called out.

"Arjun! Arrey, wait up!"

He turned and saw a tall, lean young man rushing toward him, his shirt half-tucked, his hair still damp from a hurried bath.

Rajiv Malhotra.

Arjun's childhood best friend. His first true friend, before life and circumstances had pulled them apart.

Rajiv had always been full of energy, always running late, always talking a little too loudly. In their past life, they had been inseparable… until 1995, when Rajiv moved to the U.S. for a job and never came back. They had lost touch after that.

But here he was, in 1980, grinning widely, his college bag slung over one shoulder.

"Arjun, tu theek hai na? You look like you've seen a ghost," Rajiv said, coming to a stop beside him, panting slightly.

Arjun blinked. He had been so lost in his thoughts, so overwhelmed by the sheer impossibility of everything, that he had momentarily forgotten to act normal.

He forced a small smile. "Nothing, yaar. Just… thinking."

Rajiv gave him a curious look but didn't push. Instead, he slung an arm around Arjun's shoulder. "Chal na, we'll miss the bus."

Arjun nodded, falling into step beside him.

As they walked toward the main road, where the BEST bus would stop, Rajiv started his usual chatter.

"You won't believe what happened yesterday. I was at Chandu's tea stall, and guess who I saw? That new girl from our class—Smita! Bhai, she was actually smiling at me! I think she likes me!"

Arjun chuckled. Rajiv had always been like this—falling in love every other week, convinced that every small glance meant something.

"And then," Rajiv continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I heard that seniors are planning something today. Ragging, bhai. First-years are going to get roasted. We need to avoid them at all costs."

Arjun nodded absentmindedly. He vaguely remembered the ragging incidents from his first year—nothing too serious, but definitely an ordeal for the freshers.

But his mind was elsewhere.

As they reached the bus stop, Arjun glanced at the people around him. Most were men in neatly pressed shirts and trousers, carrying leather briefcases—office workers heading to their jobs in Nariman Point or Churchgate. A few women in brightly colored sarees stood in a separate line, talking amongst themselves.

Then, the familiar red BEST bus approached, its horn blaring as it pulled to a stop.

The crowd surged forward. There was no organized queue, just a rush of people pushing their way in.

Rajiv grabbed Arjun's arm. "Bhai, chad jaldi!"

Arjun followed instinctively, grabbing onto the metal railing and pulling himself up just as the bus began moving again.

The inside of the bus was cramped, the smell of sweat, newspaper ink, and cheap perfume hanging in the air. The wooden seats were already taken, and the standing passengers had to hold onto the leather straps dangling from the ceiling.

Rajiv somehow managed to squeeze into a small space near the middle, and Arjun followed, gripping the overhead bar.

The bus jerked forward, and the city blurred past the open windows.

Mumbai in 1980. A city on the brink of change, yet still untouched by the rapid modernization that would come in the next few decades.

Arjun's grip on the bar tightened.

He had all the knowledge of the future. The economy, the stock market, the tech revolutions…

The question now was—how would he use it?

9:30 AM – College Campus

The bus ride took nearly 40 minutes. By the time Arjun and Rajiv stepped off at their stop, the sun was climbing higher in the sky, casting long shadows on the dusty pavement.

The college campus was buzzing with activity. Groups of students stood around chatting, some hurried toward the classrooms, while others loitered near the tea stall outside the gate.

It was a typical college morning—except for Arjun, everything felt surreal.

The last time he had been here, in his past life, he had been a carefree 18-year-old with no idea what the future held.

Now, he was an 18-year-old again—but with the mind of a seasoned businessman, an economist, and a technology expert from 2025.

His gaze swept across the campus, his brain already calculating.

What was his first move?

The stock market? No, he needed capital first.

Technology? Too early. India was still in its early stages of industrial growth.

Real estate? Maybe. The Mumbai property market was still affordable in 1980, but would take time to grow.

As he walked through the college gates, he made a mental note—step one would be finding a way to make quick, legal money.

"Arre, Arjun!"

A new voice called out.

He turned to see a young woman in a blue salwar kameez, waving at him from near the canteen.

Nisha Agarwal.

Another friend from his past—one he had lost touch with after college.

As she approached, her eyes filled with warmth, Arjun felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

This was it.

His second life had officially begun.

And this time, he would make it legendary.