Three Marketeers Read online

  Zabar nodded, his pale yellow, lined but taut face shining. Vidu handed a thick file to the chairman of the British firm.

  Zabar and his colleagues went through the papers. The file had documents on company incorporation, the backgrounds of the three directors of Freedom, the company valuation, the monthly projections of revenues against expenditures, the human resource requirements, the funds required, the expected return on investment, and the latest production and sales figures of Yodel. Though the entrepreneurs had mailed most of these documents to Windlyn earlier, there were certain papers they wanted to show only in person.

  ‘All right.’ Zabar clapped as he looked up.

  ‘Mr Dan,’ said Vidu, ‘if you’ll turn to page—’

  ‘Mr Nandi, shall we leave the documents aside and talk?’

  When it came to evaluating plans, Zabar preferred to have elaborate discussions and never cared much for any presentation of documents. It rarely happened when he was not disappointed after a meeting. Today, it was their final round of talks with Freedom. Both the sides were prepared to discuss the plan and the funding requirements of the venture.

  ‘Oh, please go ahead.’ Vidu flinched, scratching his goatee.

  ‘Were all of you friends before you became business partners?’ interrogated Zabar.

  Karan answered the question. ‘No, Mr Zabar. We were strangers to one another when we discussed this plan for the first time. Any particular reason for the question?’

  ‘Mr Jaani, friends usually don’t make good business partners, so we believe. And let us ignore the exceptions.’

  ‘But not vice versa,’ said Karan.

  The chairman hurled his next question. ‘Whose idea was it to do this beverage business?’

  ‘Mine,’ replied Karan.

  ‘Do the two of you agree to his business plan?’ Zabar pointed at Rishi and Vidu.

  ‘Of course,’ said Rishi. ‘Vidu and I—’

  ‘Speak only about yourself, Mr Verma. He can stand for himself.’

  Rishi killed an urge to say something spiteful. ‘I agree to his plan and I am confident it’s going to work.’ He looked at Karan, who gave him a stiff thumbs up under the tabletop.

  Zabar turned to Vidu. ‘And what about you?’

  ‘Same is with me, Mr Dan,’ replied Vidu edgily.

  ‘Same what?’ asked Zabar, as his British colleagues grinned showing their teeth.

  ‘Oh, I mean, when I had to quit my job,’ said Vidu, as Karan and Rishi sighed glancing at each other, ‘the reason was my attitude towards the job itself.’

  Zabar tilted his head. ‘Okay? That’s interesting.’

  ‘It was a job that demanded of me to work under unfair supervision.’ Vidu repented what he just revealed. Manwani would have scoffed at him. Karan and Rishi maintained pleasing looks, impatiently waiting for their candid partner to finish.

  ‘Unfair supervision. Can you explain that, Mr Nandi?’ asked Mark Allen.

  ‘Well, I was tired of selling bad-quality products. Daily, my boss would park himself on my … uh, on my head, because I couldn’t meet the targets. That was very unfair of him, Mr Mark. You should give enough time to your sales people when you have such products in the stable.’ Rishi sighed again. ‘I was fed up,’ said Vidu, ‘so I quit one day and decided not to do a job again. Through a common friend, I learnt about Karan and here I am … gentlemen. And yes, I like his plan.’

  Karan wondered if at all there was any need for the hearty disclosure.

  ‘At peace with yourself?’ asked Zabar.

  ‘Not until we raise enough money,’ said Vidu.

  Zabar enquired about their initial progress on the venture. They told him they were searching for the right people for their company. And that was a lie. They only hunted for investors, eight days a week. The prospects they met had a common concern: how they planned to outsmart the big players in the market.

  Rick Wilson expressed a similar concern. ‘I am not convinced how you’ll market Yodel and beat competition.’

  ‘We’ll write a novel message about its special taste and quality,’ said Karan.

  ‘What message?’

  Karan referred to a long chapter in the file on brand repositioning. ‘The theme of our advertising campaign would be something like “The Wet Spell of Yodel”. There would also be loud field promotions on it for extra hype. I know many retailers in the prime locations of Delhi. We’d engage them in such promos and expand the distribution network, which, at present, is weak.’

  Mark Allen attached a cost to what he heard. ‘You’ll need a large fund for such festivities. But who’ll take such a risk? Eventually, those two giants will get you and toss your brand out of the market forever. Right, Rick?’

  ‘Yeah. We see that happening daily,’ said Wilson, shaking his head.

  ‘Big companies don’t let you do business. They have the wherewithal,’ said Allen.

  ‘We don’t have to go for high-budget advertising,’ said Karan. ‘Our special message will cut through the clutter. A consumer never forgets such a message. Creativity is the word, Mr Allen. A road often travelled has heavy traffic and you take more time to reach the destination.’

  Rick Wilson frowned. ‘A road less travelled, on the other hand, is often uneven and without any signages.’ He probed further. ‘What kind of creativity do you have in mind?’

  ‘We will appoint an agency that will write compelling scripts for such advertisements.’ Karan referred to certain campaigns in the domestic and international markets and said, ‘Mr Wilson, what we are presenting is a plan, which is subject to change if unexpected variables overpower us and trip us in our tracks.’

  ‘How much do you want to raise from us?’ asked Zabar.

  ‘As mentioned,’ Rishi pointed to the file, ‘we want to raise two million pounds in exchange for a 20 per cent equity stake in our company.’

  ‘A major part of the fund will be invested in Manwani Beverages to sign an Exclusive Sales and Marketing Rights Agreement with the company,’ said Karan.

  ‘Major part is how much?’ Wilson tapped a finger on the table.

  ‘About 800,000 pounds,’ said Rishi.

  Wilson turned to his boss. ‘Dan, I feel, they’ll have to look for more than one investment firm.’

  ‘They will have to,’ said Zabar.

  ‘Unless they are also trying for a loan from somewhere,’ said Allen.

  ‘No loans,’ said Rishi.

  ‘What kind of return should we expect on our investment?’ asked Zabar.

  ‘A four- to five-time return in a period of three to five years,’ said Karan. ‘What is the kind of independence you allow to your ventures?’

  ‘Complete independence from day one, Mr Jaani. However, there is a performance-review meeting every six months.’

  ‘If we see red alerts in such a review,’ said Allen, ‘we then choose not to go for another round of funding.’

  Everyone saw Dan Zabar staring at a framed canvas—a Picasso lithograph—hung on a wall. He was thinking.

  ‘Is Manwani Beverages asking for a one-time investment or is there a possibility of that happening in parts?’ enquired Wilson.

  ‘It will be a one-time investment,’ replied Karan, knowing that they never reached such a level of talks with the beverage manufacturer.

  Zabar, the decision-maker, shifted his eyes back to Karan. ‘You want two million pounds for 20 per cent, right?’

  ‘Right,’ said the three fundraisers in unison.

  ‘How have you valued Freedom?’ asked Zabar.

  ‘Freedom is going to market and sell a brand,’ said Karan, ‘that is already generating revenue.’

  ‘Though at a loss,’ said Allen.

  ‘Much of Freedom’s valuation is Yodel’s,’ said Karan. ‘The rest of it is based on our revenue projections and the expected value of the brand in the future, which we are going to build. We have compared the brand with similar ones launched four to eight years ago in different markets.’


  Zabar sneered. ‘It seems, in the whole process, you overvalued your venture by 100 per cent. At best, it’s nothing more than half of it. How about two million in exchange for 40 per cent?’

  Like many fundraisers, they had overvalued their company, but certainly not by 100 per cent. ‘Not possible, Mr Zabar,’ said Karan. ‘We don’t want to dilute our equity further, we are sure.’

  ‘You can go for a million for 20 per cent,’ said Allen.

  ‘Or half a million for ten,’ added Wilson.

  ‘We need two million for twenty,’ said Rishi sharply.

  Rick Wilson shrugged. ‘In that case, it won’t be possible for us to go ahead with you.’

  Go to a sumptuous feast and return without a morsel eaten, thought Vidu.

  ‘Can I say something here?’ interposed Karan.

  ‘The ball is in your court, Mr Jaani,’ said Wilson bouncily.

  ‘You mentioned you review the performance of your ventures every six months,’ said Karan. Wilson and Allen nodded as Zabar raised a brow to understand what was coming. ‘And if the performance fails to impress you, you decide not to go for another round. Right?’ Karan regarded the three of them.

  ‘Make your point,’ said Wilson.

  Karan shot a quick look at Zabar and then proposed to them, ‘What if you invest a million in exchange for a 15 per cent stake?’

  ‘And?’ Allen slanted his head as his colleagues watched.

  ‘And after six months, add another million if the sales volume of Yodel has gone up by 20 per cent over that in the corresponding period of the previous year.’

  Allen and Wilson immediately turned to their boss.

  ‘Gentlemen, could you please wait outside and give us some time to weigh up the whole thing?’ asked the boss.

  The three of them walked out of the room. Rishi and Vidu were not sure if Zabar and his men were positive about their proposal. Yet, they believed Karan was negotiating the right way. They were afraid if Windlyn rejected their proposal, they would have no other prospect to turn to. Waiting in the lounge, Rishi made a few calculations, while Vidu speculated how Karan was going to impress the firm in six months. He was worried that, ultimately, the responsibility to manage sales would be his.

  After more than twenty minutes, Allen appeared at the door and called them in.

  As they entered the room again, Karan read their faces. They seemed to have taken a decision. It was either a pump-in or a cold thank you.

  ‘Please be seated,’ said Zabar courtly, and glanced at a notepad right under his nose. ‘Considering the nature of your venture, we believe you will take a few years to establish a customer base. Considering the amount you wish to raise and the risk factors involved, we—and that’s as per your wish, Mr Jaani—will fund you with one million pounds to purchase a 15 per cent equity stake in Freedom and review the performance of the venture six months after you embark on your operations. If the sales volume of Yodel has increased by 20 per cent over that in the corresponding period of the previous year, we will invest one more million.’

  ‘All of it will be documented, gentlemen,’ said Wilson.

  The entrepreneurs were unable to sit straight. There must be a catch somewhere, thought Karan.

  ‘And for us to get going,’ said Allen, ‘we want 35 per cent of the commission earned by Freedom on the sale of every bottle of Yodel till we earn a million pounds.’

  Vidu almost shrieked, ‘Thirty-five per cent, Mr Allen!’

  Allen produced a smirk. ‘The soup you prepared tastes as good as it was, gentlemen. But along the way, we also have to cover ourselves as we aren’t into charity. We are funding a venture that hasn’t even begun to earn … a venture that plans to breathe life into a seven-year-old brand that’s already almost dead. All you have for us is a plan.’

  Rishi was disheartened. It would be too heavy a burden to carry.

  ‘Thirty-five per cent, gentlemen?’ Allen repeated the offer.

  Karan observed that Zabar and Wilson were quiet. ‘Mr Zabar, I’d like to say something here,’ he said firmly.

  ‘There is no scope for negotiations now, Mr Jaani,’ said Allen.

  ‘Let him speak,’ said Zabar, with a kingly gesture of his hand.

  ‘Thank you.’ Karan decided to speak only to the chairman and no one else. ‘If we have to share our commission at such a brutal rate, trust me, we won’t be able to go very far. We need that money to keep the ship sailing, or all of us will drown. I suggest you reconsider the rate.’

  ‘What’s the rate you have in mind?’ asked Zabar.

  ‘Twenty per cent.’

  ‘Explain to me, why twenty,’ said Zabar like a big brother, resting his elbows on the round edge of the table.

  Wilson leaned back in his chair and seemed to have lost interest. Allen seemed to be at peace with himself, but in the momentary silence, one could hear him wheeze for the first time.

  ‘A bigger distribution network and a novel promotional programme should be enough to catapult Yodel as a high-growth brand,’ said Karan. ‘It’s the quality of the brand that will enable us to expand and build a distinct image. All of you visited the manufacturing plant yesterday and would agree that it’s a high-quality product. You must consider this factor before demanding such a high rate.’

  Zabar and his men got into a low-volume discussion among themselves. After a while, Wilson said, ‘Gentlemen, I request all of you to wait outside one more time.’

  As the entrepreneurs stepped out of the room, Vidu said, ‘Karan, I can’t understand what you’re up to. If we return empty-handed today, trust me, life’s gonna be very difficult.’

  ‘Karan,’ said Rishi, ‘they’ll never agree on 20 per cent. What do you have in mind?’

  ‘I understand your concern, but we have already agreed to dilute our equity by 5 per cent. Now if we also part with 35 per cent of our earnings, we’ll only stab ourselves in desperation.’

  ‘What if they don’t agree on twenty?’ asked Vidu.

  ‘This is not the end of the world,’ said Karan. ‘If we fail to get a good deal here, we’ll try another one.’

  Rishi walked away towards a washroom. He wondered where his life was going. Should I fly back to Boston? he asked himself for the first time in months.

  ‘Another one?’ said Vidu. ‘Chief, out of less than twenty investors who agreed to meet us in these months, Windlyn is the only one that has come up to this level.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean we lap up whatever is thrown at us.’

  Vidu was anxious. ‘It’s not easy to accept defeat when you’re so close to winning.’

  They were called back in less than fifteen minutes this time.

  ‘Please be seated,’ said Zabar. They sat in the same order: Karan in the centre, Rishi on his right, and Vidu on his left.

  ‘When do you have to invest in Manwani Beverages?’ asked Zabar.

  ‘As soon as we raise money,’ replied Rishi without any hope.

  Mark Allen noticed the anxiety on Rishi’s face. Swinging his chair, he asked, ‘Mr Verma, if you don’t mind, may I ask why you had to shut down your firm in Noida?’ The three men from Freedom looked at one another. ‘Oh, we heard about your tech firm from a contact in Noida and—’

  ‘Well …’ uttered Rishi.

  ‘How does it matter, Mr Allen?’ Vidu defended his partner.

  ‘I’ll tell you why he had to shut it down,’ said Karan softly. ‘Two and a half years ago, when he returned to India from America, he hoped to make it big here. But he was new to the environment and the challenges within. Attrition, poor quality of delivery, and accumulating losses finally drove him into a wind up.’

  Rishi stared at the wall in front of him as they talked about his failure.

  ‘What’s the guarantee he won’t drive this one into a wind up?’ Allen grinned viciously, looking around at everyone.

  Had Ira been present in the room, she would have remarked that Rishi never looked as dejected as he did at that point o
f time.

  Karan Jaani responded promptly. ‘Running a business all alone is an act of bravery, Mr Allen. Some win the battle, some lose. And those who lose should be held in high honour, as they are great reservoirs of experience, knowledge, and skill. I am lucky to have Rishi Verma with me.’

  ‘Of course … Mr Jaani.’ Zabar nodded many times.

  ‘Sure …’ said Allen, the guilt painted on his face.

  Rick Wilson was not talking and sat like an outsider.

  ‘So what’s your decision, Mr Zabar?’ asked Karan, ready to hear anything.

  ‘Let’s close it at 30 per cent,’ dickered Allen.

  Rishi and Vidu exchanged looks of defeat and were sure the Windlyn file was closed. Karan placed his palms on the table, sat upright, leaned forward, and let his eyes smile. ‘I am sorry, Mr Allen, the soup we prepared will lose its taste with that. If you choose not to agree on 20 per cent,’ the three men from London stared at Karan as he finished, ‘we’d prefer not to raise money from your firm.’

  That was one moment in the meeting when Zabar and his men seemed to be trounced. They could not believe that a start-up almost rejected their offer without much of a haggle. Stumped, Allen and Wilson turned to their chairman for help, who once again stared at the canvas art.

  Allen’s wheezing was now going faster and louder, and on the opposite side, Vidu’s heart was beating like a drum.

  After making everyone in the room sit in silence for some time, Dan Zabar turned to Wilson on his right, to Allen on his left, and then to the entrepreneurs. ‘That would be a first,’ he announced. Karan and his men were not sure what he meant by that. ‘Windlyn would like to add extra flavour to your soup, gentlemen. We agree on 20 per cent!’ Zabar smiled. ‘Does that suit you, Mr Jaani?’

  While Karan beamed, his partners could not believe what they heard. ‘Yes it does, Mr Zabar,’ he said.

  Mark Allen seemed to be the happiest among the three men from the investment firm. ‘We will sign a term sheet and other documents tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘Then, an amount of one million pounds will be transferred to your company account,’ informed Rick Wilson, coming back to life.

  That afternoon, when they were returning to their office, Vidu asked Karan, ‘Didn’t you always know you’d manage to plunder them?’