Threads of Suspicion

June 14, 1980 – An Unspoken Distance

The early morning sun cast a golden hue over Mumbai, bathing the city in its usual humid warmth. The streets were already alive—vegetable vendors setting up their carts, milkmen making their rounds, and factory workers hurrying to catch the local train.

Inside the Mehta household, however, a strange quietness had settled.

Arjun sat at the dining table, his tea growing cold as he stared at the business section of the newspaper. His mind wasn't focused on the stock market for once.

It was on his father.

Dinesh Mehta, usually the first to strike up conversation in the mornings, was instead silent, eating his breakfast with slow, deliberate movements. His face betrayed no emotion, but something in his posture felt distant.

Madhavi, ever the peacemaker, placed another paratha on Dinesh's plate. "Dinesh, did you hear? Arjun's stocks are doing well."

Dinesh barely looked up. "Hmm."

Arjun's grip on the newspaper tightened slightly.

Something was wrong.

His father wasn't one to be passive—if he disapproved of something, he would say it outright. But this… this silence?

It meant one of two things.

Either his father was testing him.

Or he was watching him.

Arjun chose his words carefully. "Baba, is something bothering you?"

Dinesh finally looked up, his eyes sharp, unreadable. "No. Should something be?"

Arjun met his father's gaze, unflinching. "I hope not."

A heavy silence passed between them.

Madhavi, sensing the tension, cleared her throat. "Arjun beta, are you going to see Vinod today?"

Arjun nodded slowly. "Yes. We need to track our investments."

Dinesh exhaled, setting his cup down. "Investments," he repeated, as if tasting the word. "You're very confident for someone who only started this a few days ago."

Arjun leaned back in his chair. "Confidence comes from knowledge, Baba."

Dinesh held his gaze for a moment longer before standing up. "Knowledge is good," he said, adjusting his shirt. "But overconfidence can be dangerous."

And with that, he left the room.

Arjun watched him go, his mind already calculating possibilities.

His father didn't trust him.

And that meant one thing—he was being watched.

Dalal Street – The First Real Test

By midday, Arjun and Vinod Chacha were seated inside Ramesh Shah's brokerage office, surrounded by the ceaseless noise of stockbrokers shouting figures and debating prices.

The office itself was a modest, cramped space—a single ceiling fan whirred overhead, barely enough to fight off the oppressive heat. The air smelled of ink, sweat, and old paper, with stacks of ledgers filling every corner.

Ramesh, their broker, tapped his pen against the open register.

"Reliance is climbing," he said. "Your shares have increased by 12% in value since you bought them."

Vinod whistled. "That's good news!"

Ramesh exhaled a stream of cigarette smoke. "It is—for now. But the question is, do you sell or hold?"

Vinod turned to Arjun. "Beta, what do you think?"

Arjun studied the figures. He already knew the long-term future of Reliance. Selling now would give them quick profit, but holding onto these shares would change everything.

He spoke with quiet confidence. "We hold."

Ramesh raised an eyebrow. "That's a risky move, lad."

Arjun smiled faintly. "Only if you don't know the future."

Ramesh chuckled. "I wish I had your confidence. Fine—we hold. But don't blame me if the market takes a turn."

As they finalized the decision, Vinod patted Arjun's back. "You're playing the long game, I see."

Arjun met his uncle's gaze. "It's the only way to win."

The Watchful Eyes of a Father

Later that evening, Dinesh Mehta sat inside his old friend Dilip Desai's office, the air thick with the scent of burning incense and old paper files.

Dilip, a retired police officer, leaned back in his chair. "You're asking me to keep an eye on your son. That's a strange request, Dinesh."

Dinesh exhaled. "I just… something doesn't add up."

Dilip studied him for a moment before nodding. "Alright. I've asked a few of my boys to look into it. So far, he's just been going to the stockbroker's office and meeting with his uncle. Nothing suspicious."

Dinesh frowned. "No gambling? No bad company?"

Dilip shook his head. "Not that I've seen. But I'll keep looking if you want."

Dinesh hesitated. Was he overreacting? Arjun wasn't doing anything wrong.

And yet…

"No eighteen-year-old should be this certain about money," he thought.

"Keep watching," he said finally.

Dilip sighed but nodded. "Alright. But Dinesh, be careful. You don't want to push him away."

Dinesh exhaled, rubbing his temples.

"I just want to understand him," he murmured.

But deep down, he feared he never would.

Nisha's Growing Curiosity

At college, Nisha sat under the large banyan tree, a frown creasing her forehead.

She had been watching Arjun.

Something about him had changed.

Not just the way he talked—but the way he moved, the way he observed the world, as if he already knew what would happen.

And now, she was certain—he was hiding something.

Her friend, Meera, nudged her. "Why do you keep staring at Arjun?"

Nisha sighed. "Because he's changed."

Meera laughed. "Maybe he just grew up?"

Nisha shook her head. "No. This isn't normal."

Meera leaned in. "So what are you going to do?"

Nisha's eyes darkened with determination.

"I'm going to find out the truth."