He hung up. Then he opened his own account. He had exactly ₹47,000 left in the world—money he had saved by skipping dinners, walking instead of taking the bus, wearing the same torn chappals for two monsoons.
At 4:15 AM, he did something he hadn’t done in three years. He pulled out his old trading journal. The pages were stained with tea and tears. On the last used page, he had written in red ink: “Never trust divergence alone. Fundamentals lie. Volume lies. Only time tells.” on balance volume chartink
He double-checked the debt-to-equity ratio. 0.1. Almost zero debt. Promoter holding: 68%. Institutional holding: barely 5%. That meant no big funds had noticed yet. Or worse—they had noticed and decided it was a trap. He hung up
He closed the laptop. For the first time in three years, he slept without dreaming of sugar stocks. At 4:15 AM, he did something he hadn’t done in three years
“Mrs. Desai. Don’t buy gold.”
Arun pulled up the delivery data. 90% delivery percentage over the last 30 days. Means people were buying and holding, not day-trading. Institutional footprints , he whispered. He checked the pledge data—promoters hadn’t pledged a single share. No FII selling. Nothing.
He had no money left. But his neighbor, Mrs. Desai, had asked him last week: “Arun beta, my fixed deposit matured. 15 lakh rupees. Where to put?” He had told her gold. Safe. Boring.