Pixels Multimedia: Countdown to Launch

As we prepared to launch Pixels Multimedia, there were literally hundreds of things that needed to be done. Surfing on a wave of adrenaline, Tabrez and I spent hours running around every day, getting things organised and ready for launch

In a recent post, I wrote about moving back to Lucknow, reconnecting with old friends and working out an agreement with my friend Tabrez, who said he’d like to work with me on setting up and running Pixels Multimedia. Though we didn’t realise it then, we hadn’t even reached base camp and there was a very tall, very formidable mountain that we’d soon need to climb. The story continues here.

The first step was to find a suitable place for the institute. I wanted to start with about half a dozen computers and wanted to rent a place situated in a fairly busy place, ideally frequented by a large number of young people. But as I started looking at commercial properties in prime locations, I quickly realised that rents would be astronomical. Places that would provide high visibility were terribly expensive. Lower rents meant out-of-the-way places tucked away in quiet areas, which did not have the ‘buzz’ I was looking for. Within a week, I met at least a dozen or more property brokers and owners but was unable to find a place that seemed right, with the right balance between the rent that I’d have to pay and the visibility I’d get.

I used to call my parents once every 2-3 days and discussed this issue with my father. As always, he helped me out yet again. He spoke to one person whom he knew, who owned commercial property in Sahara Bazar, a then newly-built mall situated between the prime residential areas of Indira Nagar and Gomti Nagar. This was a large, C-shaped property that would easily accommodate a dozen computers and at least two dozen students in one go. The owner, who knew my father well, was willing to give the place out on a monthly rent of Rs 10,000. This place, while not too far from densely populated residential areas, wasn’t exactly overrun with students and other young people – Sahara Bazar was a new property and it would take time before footfalls would increase. On the other hand, rents in more prime areas were simply unaffordable. In retrospect, I realise I should have held out and waited, searched harder, settled for a smaller place if I had to. Finding a better location should have been non-negotiable, but I made the mistake of taking the easy route. The owner of the Sahara Bazar place knew my father, dealing with him was easy, the rent was within the limits of what I was prepared to pay and there would be no safety deposit to pay, which would leave me some extra working capital. And so, I settled for what seemed to be good enough, rather than pushing harder and finding a place that would have been better suited to setting up a multimedia computer training institute.

With the deal done, I got the keys to the place. The next step was to buy some chairs and hire a carpenter to get computer tables made. We soon found a guy – Guddu – a young, smart carpenter who was willing to complete all our work in about a month. He took us to a local wood market, where we selected our building materials – a tricky task, for I did not know the first thing about sheesham wood vs MDF boards, and the kinds of lamination materials and types of polish available. Did manage to figure things out in the end and Guddu started work on building the racks, tables and desks that I needed for the institute. In the meanwhile, Tabrez and I visited a few furniture shops and selected the dozen odd chairs that we’d need for Pixels Multimedia. Swept away in a wave of pomposity, I selected a chair for myself that was bigger, more comfortable looking, and more expensive than the others – a silly thing to do.

The other big thing, of course, was buying the computers that we’d require for the institute. I started doing the rounds of all the major computer shops, in Hazratganj, Aminabad, Charbagh and other areas. I needed high-spec computers that could run power-hungry 3D animation and audio/video/image-editing software. I needed computers with dedicated sound cards, graphics cards and video capture cards. Back then, in 1996, most PC vendors in Lucknow had hardly ever assembled or sold the kind of computers I wanted and the prices they quoted were absolutely astronomical. Clearly, I had not done my homework properly and my basic estimates regarding pricing were all wrong. I spoke to some friends about this and one of them came to my help. One of my best friends in school and then college, Manish, introduced me to his friend Prasoon, who knew an independent PC assembler who was supposedly quite good. This guy’s name was Abhay, a wily man in his late-30s, who operated from his father’s house – a large, old-fashioned place on Faizabad Road. Abhay was a smooth talker, but seemed capable of putting together the kind of machines I wanted, and offered a better deal than most other retailers I’d spoken to. I decided to play it safe and asked him to assemble just one PC at first. This would be equipped with the then-new Intel Pentium 100 processor, with 32MB RAM, 1GB hard drive, a CD-ROM drive and a Creative Sound Blaster card. With a keyboard, 3.5-inch floppy drive, 14-inch colour monitor and a pair of Creative speakers, this PC cost me around Rs 75,000. I spoke to Abhay about the software I’d need – Windows 95 OS, CorelDraw, Photoshop, AutoCAD, 3D StudioMAX and Adobe Premiere, and he quoted a figure that was well beyond my means. Thankfully, Abhay said he’d be able to get all the software I needed, at a very low price. The legality of such software? That’s best left undiscussed.

Abhay said he’d have my PC ready in one week. In the meanwhile, another old acquaintance of mine – Piyush – had gotten in touch with me, via a common friend of ours. He had also started a computer assembly business and was willing to offer me a better deal – for around the same price, he’d give me a PC with the newer Pentium 133 processor and 64MB of RAM. And for an extra Rs 8,000 he’d also provide a video-capture card, which I needed to run Adobe Premiere. I gave him a go-ahead, and in one week both my PCs were ready, with all the software I required, along with their activation codes. 3D StudioMAX was actually meant to be run on PCs equipped with Windows NT and came with a dongle – a hardware lock that was supposed to prevent unauthorized access – but the very enterprising grey market software retailers had managed to bypass all of this. 3D StudioMAX was installed on both my PCs, which ran Windows 95, not NT, and worked flawlessly for the most part. Today, I feel ashamed of all this skullduggery, but back then, expecting software to be ‘free’ was the accepted norm and nobody saw anything wrong with that very misguided notion.

While I was running around and handling the computer hardware and software issues, Tabrez had been spending time at the premises that I had taken up on rent, and was making sure that our carpenter Guddu was work on getting the furniture ready on time. Concurrently, I had been visiting Aptech Arena, LCC and some other leading computer institutes and had been speaking to their faculty members about the possibility that they might also teach at Pixels Multimedia. It would be hard for me – a small, independent institute – to match the salaries paid by the big guys, but it was something that had to be done. And so, I worked out arrangements with two big-name instructors who were said to be the best in the business when it came to teaching animation, illustration and image/video editing. Together, we sat down with courseware details that I’d collected from a dozen institutions, along with other details that I’d taken from dozens of Indian and foreign magazines, and we began to design the courses that Pixels Multimedia would offer. At the same time, I also went out and met various DTP outfits across the city, and small studios that handled audio/video editing and post-production, and enquired about internship opportunities for Pixels Multimedia’s students. Response was mixed, with some people refusing to even talk to me, while some others gave me a patient hearing and a few even agreed to take on interns, provided I did not expect those interns to be paid.

One of my best friends from school, Sharad had set up his own DTP outfit in Hazratganj, and spent time in his shop, getting brochures designed for Pixels Multimedia, along with some posters for the office and visiting cards for Tabrez and myself. Sharad used to be terribly busy with his own work during the day, so I often used to go to his shop in the evenings, and we would then spend hours talking, designing stuff, trying out different fonts and logos, experimenting with formats and templates… it was endless. When we got really tired, we’d decamp to a nearby chai-samosa joint, where we’d continue to talk over cups of steaming hot (and a bit too sweet) chai and plates of samosa, which they used to serve with an excellent green chutney. At other times, Tabrez and I sometimes stayed back till late in our office, where Guddu the carpenter was working on our office furniture. After the carpenters left, we’d close the office and go to one of the many small restaurants in the vicinity and have a leisurely meal. Neither of us were big drinkers at that time, though we’d very occasionally have a beer or two. Tabrez, always a somewhat quiet man, never spoke much whenever we ate or drank together – it was me who did most of the talking.

Things had started coming together. Our office furniture was ready. Two of our PCs were ready and one of my friends, Prasoon, had very kindly given me a third one, a low-end machine that he said I could keep in the institute until the time I was able to get more PCs. And since we were now more or less ready to launch, we decided on a date on which we’d formally inaugurate Pixels Multimedia. At this point, I made another silly decision – that we should hire a ‘counselor,’ who would meet and greet students when they first walked in, and would explain the different courses available. At that time, all the big institutions in Lucknow used to have a smart, presentable young lady at the front desk, who would answer students’ queries and would provide guidance regarding choosing a suitable course. I thought it would be a good idea to have a similar setup at Pixels, and we put out an advertisement in the local newspapers, inviting people to come for a walk-in interview. My Tau ji (father’s elder brother) was working with Jaiprakash Associates in a very senior position, and had arranged for me to use the company’s guest house – a posh, upmarket place situated on Sapru Marg – as the venue for these interviews. Four or five days before the interviews were scheduled, I received an incredibly sad piece of news. My father called to tell me that my grandfather, who had moved from Lucknow to Jaipur after my grandmother’s death and who had not been keeping well for some time, had passed away. I was shocked and deeply saddened. My grandfather had loved me dearly and the time I had spent with him, in his house, was a memorable period of my life. I felt terribly guilty that I had not called and spoken to my grandfather in many months. And now, I would never, ever, get a chance to hear his voice again.

The story continues here