The Cookie Crumbles…

Ritesh read the email once again. It was couched in formal phrases,
however the message was anything but clear. Was the business deal
going to fall through after all the preparation that had gone into it? Or
was Kompson buying time because he had better offers from other
firms? Ritesh was spooked by the possibility of other start-ups beating
them to the post and snatching this opportunity from right under their
noses. Their dreams of entering the international market would be up
in smoke unless he sorted things out… or sought out viable alternatives.
What was he to tell his team… and his partners back home? Ajay and
Siddhi would squarely lay the blame on him.

Coolbuzz, the company he worked for, was a new kid on the block in
e-retail. The three of them, all from IIMs, had set up the company just
a year and a half back. They had secured finance from a reputable
venture capitalist firm, chiefly owing to their impeccable credentials.
Perhaps it was beginner’s luck, or the result of some calculated, smart
moves, but they had hit pay dirt within a year. Then came along this
offer to strike a deal with Bangkok based e-commerce company
Ladidah. Siddhi’s erstwhile classmate, Shumaira, now based out of
Bangkok, and one of the partners of the Thai company, had suggested
they team up and tap the growing consumer demand in India, Indonesia
and Singapore. Owing to her social skills and pragmatism Shumaira
had acclimatised remarkably well to the culture of Thailand. Her close
connections with a number of e-commerce firms gave her deep insights
into the fashion retail market. Siddhi had immediately seized upon this
chance to grow their business. Ajay, Ritesh and she had also been
motivated by Shumaira’s account of young Indian entrepreneurs such
as Chaitali Bose who had set up base in Thailand and had recently made
it to the Forbes list of 30 under 30. Bose’s logistics firm had tied up
with e-retail businesses in the Asia Pacific region and seen phenomenal
growth in less than three years. Purportedly, she was keen to
collaborate with entrepreneurs seeking to explore new avenues. In the
first flush of enthusiasm Ritesh had even toyed with the idea of putting
out feelers to her firm, but had put the plan on the back-burner. Securing
the Ladidah connect had been his top priority.

He recalled how excited the Coolbuzz team had been at the prospect of
gaining a foothold in the international market. After weeks of hectic
parleying, a meeting was set up in Bangkok. Siddhi was down with an
acute attack of spondylosis, and Ajay had to stay back to oversee
operations in Bangalore. So it fell on Ritesh, the only one among them
with ‘international exposure’, to lead the team. He had worked briefly
as business developer for a Dubai firm, was charming and drove a hard
bargain… an unbeatable combination when it came to negotiating.
Moreover, as Siddhi pointed out, e-retail was all about tapping the pulse
of youth. All of them agreed it made sense to take advantage of the
creative young people who worked for them. Ritesh cherry-picked his
team from among Coolbuzz’s 41 employees. Dina, with her innate
understanding of evolving fashions; Pranav, number cruncher, Adi, the
logistics guy. He had had several meetings with them to run over the
essentials. The team bonded well; they were bright and sparky; in fact,
at 32, Ritesh already felt jaded when faced with their quarter life jokes
and capers.

On the evening of their arrival in Bangkok, Shumaira had arranged for

a welcome dinner with the CEO, Kompson Off, and his team. The
venue was a large, well -appointed suite in a luxe hotel. The CEO, a
dapper man in his forties, as well as all the other executives, were
formally attired in black suits. An elderly gentleman was introduced as
Mr. Changparan, the CEO’s uncle. During the ritual exchange of
pleasantries, he observed, “We will wear black for one year because we
are in mourning for our King Bhumibol Adulyadej, the defender of our
faith.” Dina, picture-perfect in her scarlet evening gown, interjected,
“Seriously! Wear black for one whole year? I’d die of boredom!” She
rolled her eyes in mock horror.

Over drinks Ritesh gently steered the conversation around to business.

Adi who had been quiet initially, pitched in when the hosts were
describing the delivery system they had recently introduced. They
listened with attention, not once interrupting as he pulled a scribble pad
off the side table and proceeded to explain, briskly illustrating the
slippages that would inevitably erode their process. Kompson
commented smilingly, “Our young friend is passionate about his work,
it seems.” Adi beamed, “You bet I am!”

Talks proceeded slowly. Conversation meandered around issues

ranging from technology to football, and plans were made for a visit to
the Ladidah head office on the next day. Ritesh noted that Kompson
 valued Shumaira’s opinions on matters related to business. Shumaira,
in turn, was deferential even while holding her own in discussions. As
they settled down to a formal sit-down dinner, Kompson made a formal
speech welcoming them, He looked pleased as he told them he had
taken special care to ensure the dishes included in the menu were in
keeping with Indian preferences. During the meal, Pranav politely
refused the dishes he was offered and sat looking decidedly
uncomfortable. He got up abruptly, excusing himself, all eyes on him,
and hurried out of the room. Shumaira, who had followed him out of
concern, returned to the table a minute later, “He is a little under the
weather… and wants us to continue with our meal.” Mr. Changparan
murmured, “Perhaps he does not find the food to his taste… there are
vegetarian dishes he can partake of...”

Pranav stayed away for the duration of the meal. On the way back to
the hotel he told Ritesh and the others that he couldn’t stand the sight
of the roast meat on the table. It had made him queasy. At the
McDonald’s eateries he frequented in India, ‘non-veg’ didn’t look like
meat… but this was too much for his sensibilities. Besides, even the
vegetarian dishes had ingredients he couldn’t have eaten because of his
adherence to the dietary norms his religion prescribed.

This morning’s email from Kompson had come as a shock. In his

scrupulously polite manner he had indicated subtly that they would have to
defer the deal owing to a change in the circumstances. What had gone
wrong? Ritesh’s team was capable… perhaps a little tactless at times... but
the discussions had been productive. Surely Kompson would not hold minor
social slip-ups against them? Were there other reasons for this sudden volte-
face?