A Father’s Doubts, A Son’s Secrets

June 17, 1980 – The Conversation That Could Change Everything

The Mehta household woke up to the usual morning sounds—the whistling pressure cooker from the kitchen, the radio playing old Hindi songs, and the faint honking of taxis outside.

But inside the house, an unspoken tension simmered beneath the surface.

Dinesh Mehta sat at the dining table, flipping through the morning newspaper. His eyes weren't on the headlines. They were on Arjun.

His son sat across from him, calmly sipping his chai, flipping through the business section.

Arjun knew this conversation was coming. He had seen the signs—his father's watchful gaze, the slight stiffness in his movements, the way he lingered around his study at night.

It wasn't just suspicion anymore.

Dinesh had made up his mind.

And now, he was ready to question him.

Madhavi sensed the tension. She placed a plate of aloo parathas between them and said lightly, "Eat before it gets cold."

Dinesh barely touched his food. He set his newspaper down and looked at Arjun.

"Where are you going today?"

Arjun didn't look up. "Dalal Street. Same as every day."

Dinesh exhaled. "What exactly are you doing there?"

Arjun finally met his father's gaze. Calm. Steady.

"I'm learning, Baba."

Dinesh leaned forward slightly. "Learning? Or making money?"

Arjun placed his cup down gently. "Is there a difference?"

Dinesh's fingers drummed against the table. "For an eighteen-year-old? There is."

Madhavi sighed, glancing between them. "Dinesh, let him eat."

But Dinesh wasn't done.

"You've always been a bright boy, Arjun. But tell me honestly—how does someone who has never invested before suddenly know which stocks will rise?"

Arjun smiled faintly. "Research. Observation."

Dinesh shook his head. "You talk like a man who's been in this business for twenty years."

Arjun didn't blink. "Maybe I have a good instinct."

Dinesh leaned back, studying his son carefully. "No one's instinct is this good."

The words hung in the air.

Madhavi reached for Dinesh's hand. "Dinesh, enough. If he's doing well, shouldn't we be happy?"

Dinesh exhaled sharply, pushing back his chair. "I just don't want my son to be hiding something from me."

Arjun's expression softened for the briefest moment.

"If only you knew, Baba."

"I'm not hiding anything," he said finally.

Dinesh didn't believe him. But for now, he let it go.

For now.

Dalal Street – A Shift in the Market

By afternoon, Arjun and Vinod Chacha were back at Ramesh Shah's office, watching the stock figures roll in.

The room smelled of ink, sweat, and burning tobacco, the air thick with noise—brokers shouting figures, papers rustling, the sharp clang of metal as clerks filed documents.

Ramesh tapped his pen on the ledger. "The market's shifting. There's volatility in a few sectors."

Vinod frowned. "Is that bad?"

Arjun already knew the answer.

He glanced at the figures, his mind racing. This was a test. The market was unpredictable, but his knowledge of the future was his advantage.

He saw a few companies showing early signs of turbulence—companies that would, in the next few years, rise or collapse spectacularly.

This was where the real game began.

He pointed to the list. "Sell these stocks. And reinvest in these three."

Ramesh gave him a look. "These are unstable. You're taking a risk."

Arjun smiled faintly. "No. I'm making a move."

Vinod hesitated. "Arjun, are you sure?"

Arjun met his uncle's gaze. "Trust me."

Vinod sighed. "Alright. Do it."

Ramesh muttered under his breath but nodded. "Let's see if your luck holds, kid."

Arjun didn't correct him.

It wasn't luck. It was history repeating itself.

Nisha's Search for Answers

That evening, Nisha sat outside her house, tapping her pencil against her notebook.

She was deep in thought.

Arjun Mehta had changed.

He wasn't the same boy who used to joke about cricket matches or complain about college assignments. He had become someone else.

And now, she had proof.

She had followed him today—discreetly.

She had seen him enter a brokerage office, sit down with men twice his age, and talk like he belonged there.

She had even overheard some of it. The way he spoke about stocks, investments, as if he already knew what was going to happen.

And now, she couldn't let it go.

She glanced up as Meera sat down beside her.

"You're still thinking about Arjun," Meera said.

Nisha didn't deny it.

"He's not just investing, Meera. He's predicting."

Meera rolled her eyes. "Maybe he's just really smart."

Nisha shook her head. "No. This isn't intelligence. This is something else."

Meera sighed. "So what now? Are you going to ask him?"

Nisha exhaled, closing her notebook.

"Not yet."

First, she needed more proof.

A Father's Decision

Late at night, Dinesh Mehta stood on the balcony, staring at the moonlit street below.

His mind was heavy with thoughts of Arjun.

Something was wrong.

And it wasn't just about money.

His son was too calm, too precise, too… prepared.

"It's almost like he's lived this life before," Dinesh thought.

A ridiculous thought.

And yet, it wouldn't leave him.

Finally, he made up his mind.

He needed to test his son.

And if Arjun was truly hiding something—he would find out soon enough.