Pixel by Pixel, Dream by Dream
Chapter 30: Pixel by Pixel, Dream by Dream
Lucknow — December 1982
The winter air had settled deep into the narrow lanes of Aminabad, coating the morning in a thin sheet of mist and smoke from nearby tea stalls. The clang of a distant cycle rickshaw bell mixed with the chatter of street vendors—"Chana jor garam!"—as steam curled from their carts.
Inside the modest three-story office of Singh Technologies, once just a side wing of the family's textile warehouse, warmth hummed—not from heaters, but from energy. A thermos of tea sat beside engineering blueprints, chalk dust floated lazily in the cold morning light, and the tang of fresh soldering mixed with the smell of warm samosas wrapped in newspaper.
Bharat, now eight years old and sitting with a blanket draped over his shoulders, looked far older in thought. His glasses slid down his nose as he pored over sketches, notes, and feedback forms.
His games—Indian-made arcade titles—were live. And not just in Lucknow. In Delhi, Bombay, Calcutta, and now whispers from Singapore, Dubai, and even Malaysia. The arcade units had been running for two full months in test markets. Children stood in lines. Coins clinked. Cafe owners ordered more units.
> "We've sold 1,280 cabinets in November," Ajay said during the company's end-of-month review. "Revenue is approaching ₹5.6 lakh this month. And export demand is real."
Ajay's voice was calm, but his heart beat with a rhythm unfamiliar—pride, nervousness, and something deeper. He looked at Bharat across the table.
> He no longer saw a child. He saw a visionary with ink-stained fingers, a mind pacing far ahead of his time. Was this how revolutions began—in sketchbooks and schoolbags?
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Team Strategy Meeting: Export and Expansion
In the main hall, whiteboards showed global maps with tiny red pins: Dubai, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur. Charts tracked unit costs, shipping routes, and projected revenues.
Ramesh, their production manager, adjusted his shawl. "Some partners in Europe want versions with 'neutral' backgrounds. They say Indian cultural references are too local."
Swapnil, their young sound engineer, frowned. "So they want our technology but not our identity?"
Bharat sat up. "We can make alternate skins—change some costumes or buildings for export. But we keep the Indian originals too. No one should say our culture isn't modern enough."
Ajay nodded. "Two editions. That's our strategy. Let them choose."
"Also…" Bharat added, flipping a page, "we offer two console versions: one basic for home affordability, and one premium model for higher-end buyers. People like to show off. We'll give them status—sleek design, better visuals."
Swapnil laughed. "So one for showing, one for playing?"
"Exactly," Bharat smiled. "Let them pay extra if they want to say, 'I have the deluxe one.'"
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Game Types and Bharat's Design Philosophy
In the design lab—walls covered in posters, crayons, and prototype screenshots—Bharat spoke to his game concept team.
> "I'm not just interested in mythology," he said. "There's value in that. But we also need fun, simple, everyday games. A kite-flying challenge during Basant Panchami. A cycle race through a mela ground. A classroom prank puzzle game."
He flipped another page in his diary:
Auto Wala Escape — dodge traffic, pick passengers, avoid police.
Roti Roller — roll perfect rotis under time pressure in a family kitchen.
Lucknow Drift — high-speed car chase through gullies with cows, potholes, and temple bells ringing.
Ramesh laughed. "That sounds like my childhood."
"Exactly," Bharat grinned. "Games don't need capes and lasers. They need heart."
Still, Bharat didn't ignore his first-life inspirations. "I also want to adapt popular Western ideas—but in our style."
He sketched:
A stealth game like Metal Gear, but set in Kargil.
A platformer inspired by Super Mario, set on Indian rooftops with tiffin boxes and monkeys.
A car racing game inspired by Pole Position, but through Mumbai traffic.
> "We don't copy—we translate. Their genres, our soul."
He added thoughtfully, "We must also change a few things, just enough to avoid lawsuits. No full clones. A curve here, a color shift there—small but essential."
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Marketing & Player Feedback
Two marketing interns walked in with feedback forms from players:
"My kid loved the game but struggled with the controls."
"Can we get a higher sound volume in outdoor machines?"
"A level set in a temple during Diwali? That would be amazing."
Bharat took notes silently.
Ajay added, "Let's implement field research teams—three people per city. Interview players, note behaviors, ask what they want."
"And give free trials for 2 hours," Bharat suggested. "New players get hooked when they try it. Arcade owners will love the foot traffic."
Ajay nodded. "Smart. First the heart, then the wallet."
---
Console Development Begins
Back in the R&D lab, engineers had begun work on the PixelOne Console—India's answer to foreign consoles. A wooden prototype sat on the table. Cheap materials, but efficient.
"We need dust-proof design," said Rahul, their hardware engineer. "This isn't Japan. Our power fluctuates. Homes are dusty. Let's keep it simple."
"Agreed," Bharat said. "Basic model first. Affordable. Then release the 'Shakti Edition' with stronger chips and wireless controls."
Swapnil laughed. "Wireless in 1983?"
"Think ahead," Bharat whispered.
---
Light Setback: Western Partner Pushback
That evening, a fax arrived from a French partner.
> "Requesting game reskin. Prefer characters to wear pants, not dhotis. Too exotic."
Ajay frowned. "They don't want our people looking Indian?"
Bharat sighed. "We'll provide them one version. But our Indian release will stay proud. Culture isn't a costume to erase."
Ajay's inner voice agreed—but quietly wondered how often they'd have to bend without breaking.
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Dinner, Family, and a Quiet Moment
Later that night, as chai was poured and plates of poha passed around, Bharat scribbled in silence.
Outside, Lucknow breathed winter—smoke, steam, mufflers, and woolen shawls. The city lived slowly, but this room was buzzing.
> "Every game we make now," Bharat thought, "can shape someone's dream tomorrow."
His page read:
Multiplayer maze chase in a school building.
Puzzle-solving in a flooded monsoon street.
Train-jumping strategy game between Kanpur and Lucknow.
No mythology. No gods. Just real people in real places—with imagination.
> "Not every player wants to be Hanuman. Some just want to win a race on a rainy street."
---
Final Export Data Summary:
Units sold in November: 1,280 arcade machines
Revenue (Nov): ₹4.2 lakh
December estimate: ₹5.6–6 lakh
Exports initiated:
Singapore (40 trial units)
Dubai (25 units in hotel lobbies and cafes)
Kenya, Malaysia, France (upcoming with modified designs)
Export packaging included two versions:
Cultural Edition (for diaspora & domestic use)
Global Edition (for broader appeal)
Marketing plan:
TV spots during Doordarshan Sunday evenings
Tie-ins with local fairs
Flyer inserts with comic books
Bharat whispered to Ajay that night, "We will one day sell to America. They gave us Atari. We'll give them Pixel India."
> "As winter deepened across Lucknow, and steam curled from chai stalls, Bharat's games marched outward—across streets, borders, and imaginations—pixel by pixel, dream by dream."