Chapter 1: Beyond the Code

"My name is Vipin Chaudhary," I introduced myself, my deep husky voice echoing against the silent walls of the Kumaon hostel at the Indian Institute of Technology. I had just arrived with my fellow freshers, Aman and Nikhil, and in accordance with tradition, we were being 'ragged' by a group of seniors.

One of them, a six-footer with an intimidating aura named Baku, glanced over at me. His eyes barely concealed his surprise at my height and confidence. Another, Anurag, leaned casually against the wall, watching the proceedings with a bemused expression.

"Mechanical Engineering, Rank 91," I continued, meeting the curious gaze of my fellow freshers. Aman, who was tall and skeletal, gave me an appreciative nod, while Nikhil, the shorter and chubbier of the two, adjusted his glasses nervously.

"You bastards, strip down," commanded Baku, creating a ripple of tension. Anurag protested, advocating for a more relaxed approach, but Baku insisted. With a sense of dread, we complied. The cold night air sent shivers down my spine, and I could see the discomfort clearly on Aman and Nikhil's faces.

"Are you...are you sure about this, sir?" Nikhil stuttered out, his glasses now completely askew.

"Did I stutter?" Baku shot back, silencing any further protests. Anurag rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Baku's raucous laughter echoed in the hostel corridors as he commented on Aman and Nikhil's physiques. Their humiliation was palpable, and I felt a pang of sympathy for them. As the spotlight turned on me, I stood my ground, my years of fitness and sports imbuing me with confidence in my own body.

Then Baku, crossing the line of decency, brought out two Coke bottles, an inappropriate idea gleaming in his eyes. I couldn't stand by and watch.

"Sir, what exactly are you planning to do?" I asked, staring directly at him.

Taken aback by my resistance, Baku retorted, "And who the hell are you to question me?"

Feeling a surge of adrenaline, I grabbed the bottles from Baku's hands and crushed them under my feet. The sudden, unexpected sound echoed around us, and a silence descended on the group. Baku stepped back in surprise, while his sidekick, Anurag, froze, the cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers.

"Enough of this," I swore, my face burning with anger. Baku and Anurag retreated a few paces, their amusement replaced by surprise.

Snapped out of his lethargy, Anurag stepped in. "Hey, cool it, everyone. How did this happen? Vipin, take it easy, man. This is just fun."

"It's not fun for me," I growled, "Just get the hell out of here."

"Listen yaar," Anurag started, but I cut him off.

"Just get lost," I shouted so hard that Baku seemed to shrink just from the impact. In reality, he was shuffling backward slowly and steadily, almost tripping over himself in his haste to get away, with Anurag following suit.

Once they were out of sight, Anurag turned back to look at us, "Tell him to control himself. Or one day he will drag you guys down too," he warned before disappearing.

Back in our rooms, the gravity of what just happened began to sink in. Aman broke the silence. "Thanks, Vipin, that was a risk you took. That Baku guy is sick. Do you think they would have done anything?"

"Who knows? Maybe not. But you can never predict how things turn out when people get into a mob mentality. Trust me, I've lived in enough boarding schools."

Fast forward two years from that ragging night, and I found myself living alone in a single room on the campus. As much as I cherished the camaraderie with Aman and Nikhil, it was necessary to have a private space where I could fully devote myself to my passion. Here, surrounded by my beloved technological paraphernalia, I had a special spot to tinker, to create, to imagine.

By this point, I had transformed from a terrified freshman into a seasoned Engineering student at IIT, armed with countless hours spent in classrooms, labs, and most importantly, my own personal workspace.

When not buried under academic coursework or fulfilling my day-to-day responsibilities, I was consumed by a personal project that combined my two passions – movies and technology. My days and nights blurred into each other as I attempted to create a virtual reality headset, a device that could bring my cinematic dreams to life.

This obsession with merging technology and cinema wasn't something new. It had started from an obscure research paper that I had stumbled upon during one of my countless late-night research sessions.

Written in a language that would confound even the most accomplished scholars, it introduced a concept so fascinating, so revolutionary, that it held my attention captive. It proposed a theory about data manipulation at the quantum level.

This conundrum kept me awake for nights, as I worked to decipher its implications and the possibilities it held.

For months on end, I labored tirelessly on my VR headset, trying to apply this theory. Each passing day presented an exciting challenge, filled with minor breakthroughs and countless setbacks.

Throughout the process, Nikhil and Aman acted as my sounding boards. They would listen to my constant ramblings, their eyes glazing over as I rambled on about quantum mechanics and data manipulation.

One day, after countless revisions and tests, I thought the headset was finally ready. Holding it in my hands, my heart pounded in my chest. This was it, the moment of truth. I placed it on my head, the cold material pressing against my skin, and...

Nothing happened.

There was no leap into the world of cinema. No transformation of reality. It was a crushing blow. The research paper that had started it all had mysteriously vanished, as if it had never existed. The only evidence left were my handwritten notes, filled with calculations and hypotheses, but no definitive path to turn my dream into reality.

Weeks turned into months, my initial excitement replaced by frustration and despair. One weary evening, after yet another failed attempt, I put on the headset. I didn't know what I expected, but hope indeed is a stubborn thing.

Suddenly, the world around me changed. I was standing in an endless, empty, white room. No doors. No windows. Just an infinite expanse of white.

'Huh?... I don't remember coding this VR room?' I thought, and looked around, but jolted back in fear as I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Scared, I tried pulling the headset off but felt nothing on my head.

"Jai Hanuman, Gyaan gun sagar…" When nothing came to mind as to how to deal with the situation, I started reciting the Hanuman Chalisa.

Soon the scene changed, and I found myself in an open field. I could see cows spread out, grazing on grass, and someone sleeping under a tree.

Still reciting the Hanuman Chalisa in my mind, I approached the man. It seemed like a better option than remaining stuck in this unknown place.

As I drew closer, I was able to see him more clearly. Despite his dark complexion, a blue aura seemed to radiate from his body. A Mor Pankh, or peacock feather, was nestled in his hair, and a flute was secured at his waist. He noticed my approach, flashed me a warm smile, and began to play his flute.

The sound that echoed through the air was divine. It radiated a sense of peace and pure ecstasy that seemed to envelope the entire field. I found myself drawn towards it, running to him like a lost calf returning to its shepherd.

Before long, I found myself approaching him, trailed by a sea of cows and calves that had assembled around him from all sides. He ceased his flute playing, shifting his attention between the cows and me. There wasn't a trace of surprise in his eyes as he regarded me, treating me as if I were simply another member of his herd.

"Kahnaa..." I soon heard a woman's voice, prompting the man to smile. His smile once again had a hypnotic effect on me.

"Maiyaa!! Aai raho hu! Ek bachhraa khoye gyo lge," the man shouted back, his gaze returning to me. He spoke the last part in a quieter tone. (Translation for the text: "Mother, I am coming. It seems a calf has wandered off")

At that point, I was certain that this man, this divine being whose mere presence was soothing, was none other than my Krishna Kanhaiya.

"How did you end up here?" Krishna Ji asked.

"Prabhu, I'm not sure why I'm here, but I don't want to return," I replied.

His response came with an unexpected giggle, "Don't worry, you won't be going back. There's nothing left for you to go back to. I mean, you no longer have a head on your body in your world. It got blown to smithereens with whatever you were creating."

Despite the shocking news of my death, his words didn't incite panic in me. "I must have done some very good deeds in my life to be in your presence, Prabhu," I responded, earning another giggle from him.

"But your life is not over yet and..." He started to respond but was quickly interrupted by another call, presumably from Maiya Yasodha.

"Maiyaa is calling me. I need to go back. Here, this will explain everything," he said, shaking his head at the call. He then removed his Mor Pankh and placed it in my hair.

Suddenly, I felt my consciousness and body being absorbed into the Mor Pankh. The last thing I heard was, "Prabhu nai, Mitra boliyo agli ber" (Translation: "Not Lord, Call me a friend next time").

------------------

I found myself once again within the confines of the familiar white room, yet this time I wasn't alone. In my hand I held the Mor Pankh, which began to levitate before my eyes and morphed into a screen. The screen was unsurprising; its contents, however, left me astounded.

["Your life in your previous world abruptly came to a halt. Instead of reincarnating, you've been given an opportunity to fulfill your deepest desires. This room will transport you to a randomly chosen world, providing you with an ultimate goal to achieve. Once accomplished, you may return here and embark on another adventure.

You may choose a power before entering each world. During your journeys, you can acquire additional skills that you'll be able to carry into subsequent worlds. Once you're content with your accomplishments, you'll be reincarnated in a new world, with all your skills retained but your memories forgotten. Hero or villain, the choice is yours."]

["World: Aashiqui 2

Skills: (Choose One)

- Vocal Ability and Training: Develop and refine your singing talent through consistent practice and professional guidance.

- Musical Instrument Proficiency: Master the art of playing musical instruments like the guitar or piano.

- Songwriting: Harness your creativity and emotional intelligence to compose original songs.

- Music Production: Familiarize yourself with the fundamentals of music production, including mixing, mastering, and recording.

- Performance Skills: Master stage presence, audience engagement, and working with stage equipment.

- Networking: Form connections with musicians, producers, record label executives, and other industry professionals.

- Business Acumen: Grasp the business side of the music industry, including contract negotiation, promotion, finance management, and more.

- Physical Stamina: Maintain the physical endurance necessary for a successful career in music.

- Mental Health Management: Equip yourself with self-care practices, professional help when needed, and healthy stress-coping strategies."]

Engulfed in thought, I mulled over my choices. The prospect of finding myself in an Indian movie world was amusing. I figured that Vocal Ability and Training seemed the most advantageous given the context of Aashiqui 2. The world of this movie was set in 2013, providing me with a ten-year knowledge advantage.

In the original world, Rahul Jayekar and Aarohi's songs were sung by Ankit Tiwari and Shreya Ghoshal, who might not exist in this world. Familiar with many of their songs, I realized that I could excel in this world given the right singing ability. Satisfied with my decision, I selected the first option, and the room plunged into darkness.

Moments later, I awoke in an unfamiliar room. Gradually, my memories flooded back. My name was Vipin Chaudhary, and I lived in Mira Road, Mumbai, with my family. My father, who moved here from Uttar Pradesh to pursue a career in music, now ran a small Vada Pav corner shop alongside my mother to make ends meet.

Interestingly, we lived next to Aarohi Keshav Shirke, the female lead of this world. Inspired by my father's passion for music, I joined the same music class as Aarohi. My former self had already managed to weave me into the plot's fabric, and now a floating quest in front of me awaited.

[Description: Aashiqui 2 is a world where Indian Music took an unprecedented turn in the past, evolving into a distinct entity separate from Indian Cinema. The songs, though integral to the movies, allow singers to receive the recognition they deserve. Now, your parents have entered you into this race, and it's your task to win it.

End Goal: Top the charts of the musical world.]