The "Patel Anomaly" memo did not remain private for long. In the interconnected world of high finance, a compelling story is a valuable currency. A sanitized version, stripped of confidential details but highlighting the uncanny investment acumen of the mysterious Aethelred Trust and its link to the Indian "Chipman," found its way into a prominent financial newsletter.
The effect was electric.
Overnight, Harsh Patel was no longer just an Indian industrial success story. He was an international enigma. Journalists from foreign publications requested interviews, not about his televisions, but about his investment strategy. Analysts scrambled to understand the connection between cassette players and early-stage bets on a company called "NetScape."
Within Bharat Electronics, the news caused a different kind of stir. Deepak and Sanjay read the articles with a mixture of pride and bewilderment.
"So this is what you've been building with Rakesh," Sanjay said, his voice full of awe. "You've been playing chess on a global board while we were mastering checkers here."
Deepak was more measured. "The 'Sanskrit' project makes more sense now. You're not just looking at the Indian market. You're preparing for a war we can't even see yet."
Harsh used their reaction to his advantage. "Exactly. The world is changing. The companies we are investing in through legal, international channels will define the next decade. Our job is to ensure Bharat Electronics is not left behind, but is leading the charge. The 'Bharat-4' and 'Sanskrit' are our entry tickets."
He had turned potential internal confusion into reinforced purpose. His lieutenants now saw themselves as soldiers in a larger, global campaign.
The real impact, however, was on the Aethelred Trust itself. The publicity, though indirect, brought a flood of unsolicited proposals. Investment bankers, venture capitalists, and startup founders from Silicon Valley and Boston's Route 128 now saw the Trust as a sophisticated, deep-pocketed player with an almost mystical eye for talent.
Rakesh, who had once operated in near-total secrecy, now found himself managing the Trust's newfound fame. He established a proper screening process, using Harsh's overarching themes—"connectivity," "data processing," "user interface"—as a filter.
It was through this new channel that a proposal arrived for a small company called "Yahoo!", a curated directory of websites. The founders, two Stanford students, were seeking their first round of serious funding.
Harsh read the brief. It was another cornerstone of the future he remembered. "Match the investment we made in NetScape," he instructed Rakesh. "Another five hundred thousand. Do it quietly."
The gambit was paying off spectacularly. The "anomaly" was now a magnet, attracting the very opportunities he sought. He was no longer just hunting for the future; the future was beginning to come to him.
Financially, the results were staggering. The NetScape investment had already multiplied in value on paper as hype grew around the "web." The combined value of the Aethelred Trust's portfolio was now hurtling towards the $25 million mark.
Harsh stood at the precipice of a new year, 1995. His Indian empire was a cash-generating, innovation-driven powerhouse. His global investment arm was not only immensely profitable but was actively shaping the technological landscape.
The anomaly had been identified, but it had only made him stronger. He had leveraged the curiosity of the global market to amplify his own reach. The architect was no longer just drawing blueprints; he was now a recognized force, his every move watched, analyzed, and increasingly, followed. The isolation of the sovereign was being replaced by the influence of a visionary. The game was the same, but the stakes, and the audience, had grown exponentially.