Price of Dreams: A Tale of Money, Morals, and Mayhem.

Chapter 2: A Pocketful of Promises

Ravi’s life was moving at a pace he could hardly keep up with—new clients, new targets, new clothes, and a new relationship that seemed to shimmer with potential. Neha had a way of making him feel as though anything was possible, as though his small-town roots were not a limitation but merely a chapter in a story still being written.

They spent weekends exploring Mumbai—Carter Road for sunset walks, Colaba for overpriced coffees, and Powai for rooftop dinners where Ravi would subtly check the prices before pretending to be unfazed. Neha, on the other hand, never blinked at a ₹600 bill for two lattes. She had grown up with privilege, and money, to her, was a resource—not a miracle.

“Ravi, why don’t you just upgrade your car? That second-hand Alto is like a tin box,” she said one day as they exited the parking lot of a luxury mall.

“It gets me from point A to point B,” he replied, but the embarrassment in his tone didn’t escape her.

She smiled and said nothing more, but the next day, Ravi called a car dealer. A new Hyundai Creta was out of budget, but a good-looking used model seemed just within reach—with a little stretch. The down payment emptied his savings. EMIs began to pile up next to his credit card bills and existing flat rent.

“Investment in self-image,” he rationalized. “Perception is power in finance.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. Clients seemed more impressed, conversations flowed smoother, and even Neha’s smile lingered longer when he picked her up in his ‘new’ ride. The car smelled of leather and fresh ambition. He began believing he deserved more. Not just more money—but more lifestyle, more luxury, more everything.

But lifestyle inflation is a silent storm. Ravi found himself juggling three credit cards. His bank balance danced near zero every month. Still, he continued projecting confidence, even success.

When a colleague mentioned stock trading, Ravi leaned in. “Quick returns if you know what you're doing,” the guy said. Ravi prided himself on his analytical mind. He wasn’t just another gambler. This was strategy.

He began small—₹10,000 on a pharma stock. It rose by 8% in two days. Encouraged, he doubled down. His gains grew, and so did his appetite.

Meanwhile, Neha’s father, a retired banker, began showing polite curiosity.

“What’s your long-term goal, beta?” he asked during a Sunday lunch.

Ravi, startled mid-bite, fumbled. “Um… director in five years?”

The older man nodded slowly. “Career-wise, maybe. But financially? Planning is everything.”

Ravi smiled, offering vague reassurances, but a pang of guilt shot through him. The truth was, he had no plan—just a web of EMIs and investments held together by hope and hustle.

One evening, after closing a particularly challenging deal, Ravi took Neha out to a high-end restaurant in Bandra. The meal cost ₹4,300. He handed over his card, praying silently. It cleared.

As they walked out, Neha looped her arm through his. “You know, I think my parents are starting to like you.”

His heart fluttered.

“But they’ll want security,” she added. “Dad always says: Love fades, but liabilities stay.”

Ravi laughed, but the words etched themselves into his thoughts.

That night, he sat with his laptop, a spreadsheet open, calculating and recalculating his finances. Loans, EMIs, investments, expenses—it was a precarious house of cards. One bad month and it could collapse.

So when a colleague introduced him to a high-risk, high-return crypto scheme, Ravi didn’t flinch. “It’s hot right now. People are doubling money in weeks.”

Greed, coated in desperation, whispered louder than reason. He transferred ₹50,000 into a trading app.

Every rupee felt like a promise—to himself, to Neha, to his parents who still thought their son was a money wizard. He hadn’t sent money home in three months, always blaming office pressure.

“Diwali is near,” Ma had said during their last call. “If you can’t come, at least send something for Shalu.”

He had mumbled an excuse and hung up quickly.

But that very weekend, he and Neha checked into a resort in Lonavala.

He watched her sip wine by the pool, her laughter rising like bubbles, and wondered if this was success—or just an expensive illusion.

“Are you happy?” he asked suddenly.

She looked at him, surprised. “With you? Yes. But I want us to be… settled. Like a power couple, you know?”

He nodded, hiding the ache in his chest. He had created a version of himself for her—a confident, upwardly mobile man with a financial plan. But the truth was messier.

He was juggling debts, risking more than he could afford, and chasing an image instead of building a foundation.

Still, he told himself it was temporary. One big win, one lucky break—and everything would balance out.

He just had to keep playing the game.

Because in Mumbai, everyone wears a mask. Ravi’s was just made of silk instead of steel.

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links

Price of Dreams: A Tale of Money, Morals, and Mayhem (Chapter 5): https://lifeinwords2025.blogspot.com/2025/05/price-of-dreams-tale-of-money-morals_23.html

Price of Dreams: A Tale of Money, Morals, and Mayhem (Chapter 4): https://lifeinwords2025.blogspot.com/2025/05/price-of-dreams-tale-of-money-morals_3.html

Price of Dreams: A Tale of Money, Morals, and Mayhem (Chapter 3): https://lifeinwords2025.blogspot.com/2025/05/price-of-dreams-tale-of-money-morals_97.html

Price of Dreams: A Tale of Money, Morals, and Mayhem (Chapter 2): https://lifeinwords2025.blogspot.com/2025/05/price-of-dreams-tale-of-money-morals_22.html

Price of Dreams: A Tale of Money, Morals, and Mayhem (Chapter 1): https://lifeinwords2025.blogspot.com/2025/05/price-of-dreams-tale-of-money-morals.html

Full story_ In another life : https://lifeinwords2025.blogspot.com/2025/05/in-another-life-love-story-left_14.html

In another life trailer: https://lifeinwords2025.blogspot.com/2025/05/in-another-life-love-story-left.html 

Intro of life in words: https://lifeinwords2025.blogspot.com/2025/05/life-in-words-home-for-heartfelt-stories.html