‘I don’t see how you guys don’t see how smart he is,’ mumbles Aditya disappointedly.
Vanita and I exchange a knowing glance, for we both know the truth behind Gaurav’s carefully curated online personality. Gaurav hasn’t morphed into a different person than he was earlier. He hasn’t suddenly developed an interest in anthropology, geography, pop culture and world politics. He’s driven, hardworking, courageous, but he’s not what his online persona shows.
Aditya keeps gushing. ‘He’s like a freaking all-knowing Yoda in the skin of a gamer.’
We don’t tell him that Gaurav’s online persona’s fake.
The side of Gaurav Madan that his followers have fallen in love with is not the truth.
The persona isn’t his.
It’s borrowed.
It’s constructed.
It’s Daksh Dey’s persona.
Every time I read a deftly written tweet, listen to Gaurav’s witty remark over a game stream or see an insightful caption on his post, I am acutely aware that each and every word belongs to Daksh. Every joke, every idea, every observation is his. Gaurav is a gifted gamer, but Daksh has packaged him into an exciting product that people lap up and love. Daksh is plenty good at that—making people fall in love with him. If at Vanita’s wedding, I’m wearing lehengas made by Manish Malhotra, it’s because Daksh made Gaurav likeable enough for hundreds of thousands of people to not just follow him but worship him.
The cult of Gaurav is managed by Daksh.
We get into one of the dozens of steel and glass lifts at the Atlantis. I don’t want to talk about Gaurav any more because if you talk about him, you have to talk about Daksh. The two of them have been conjoined twins since they started working together three years ago.
I steer the conversation in a different direction.
‘I don’t like you,’ I tell Aditya. ‘She’s throwing away her life by getting married to you.’
Vanita mumbles a softAwand kisses Aditya’s forehead.
Aditya laughs. ‘Vanita told me that. Trust me, I have tried to tell her that we should wait for a bit. But your friend wants to do all of this right away.’
‘You must have brainwashed my friend. Just good sex doesn’t mean a relationship will last.’
Aditya’s eyes light up like a little child’s. He turns to Vanita. ‘You told her we have good sex?’
‘No, I told her I’m getting married to a guy I have horrible sex with.’
Aditya grows three inches taller, his moustache grows thicker and he takes up more space in the lift. Tell a guy he’s the nicest guy in the world and he would brush it off with a shrug, but compliment his sexual prowess and he will remember it for life.
We turn towards my room. I can hear the revelry that only comes from a place where a wedding party is shacking. There are shouts and laughter and teasing. Vanita swipes my room card. Aditya pulls my suitcase inside.
‘Listen, we are all going to the poolside for drinks. You have fifteen minutes,’ says Vanita.
I hand over the clanging bag of Dubai Duty-Free to Aditya. ‘Then you will need this.’
Aditya peers into the bag. His face breaks into a huge smile. ‘And here I thought you were serious about hating me.’
I roll my eyes.
He continues, ‘You’re now our best friend! Now all we need to do is find a boy for you!’
5.
Daksh Dey
Amruta and I record a three-hour episode on ‘How to Deal with Kids When They Swear and How to Make Them Stop,’ an interesting topic because both of us believe swear words, such as ‘fucking’, ‘behenchod’ and ‘madarchod’, have practical uses in daily life. Most of the advice we give on our podcast is stolen from articles, books and what we hear in other podcasts. We can’t be trusted with our own advice and we warn our listeners multiple times in each podcast that we are ‘accidental parents’. Sometimes, we are so unoriginal we think we are fraudsters earning money by summarizing various sources.
‘You were very funny during the recording. I hate it when you’re funny,’ complains Amruta.
