The 3 Mistakes Of My Life (22 page)

said.

'I came to meet you. Can I borrow a few coins for a Coke. I feel thirsty.'

'Coins are finished. Have some cash left for today, but let's use it to eat lunch.'

'Finished?' Omi said.

'Yeah,' I said, irritated. I don't like it when people less sensible than me

question me.

'Who did you call?' Omi said.

'Supplier.'

'Which one?'

'Fuck off Omi, let's go get lunch. Will you get dry first.' 'Vidya?'

I looked at him dumbstruck. What a random guess. And what the hell is his

business anyway. 'What?' I said, surprised. 'Don't lie to me.'

'C'mon Omi why would I call Vidya?' 'I'm not that stupid.' 'You are,' I said.

We walked towards the restaurant with me three steps ahead of him.

'I've seen the way you guys look at each other,' he said as he tried to catch up

with me.

'Get lost,' I said and walked faster. We came to Campbell Parade, a strip of bars

and cafes near the beach.

'And I've noticed. You never talk about her since you started teaching her,' he

said.

I went inside 'Hog's Breath Cafe'. After five days in this country the name didn't

seem weird anymore.

We sat facing each other. I lifted the menu to cover my face and avoid

conversation.

'You can hide if you want. But I know.'

I slid the menu down.

'It's nothing, ok maybe something. But nothing to worry about,' I said.

I hid behind the menu again.

'There is an unspoken rule among Indian men, and you broke

it.'

'What rule?' I said and slammed the menu on the table.

'You don't hit upon your best friend's sister. You just don't. It is against the

protocol.'

'Protocol? What is this, the army? And I didn't hit on her. She hit upon me,' I

said.

'But you let her hit upon you. You let her.' 'Well, it wasn't exactly like being hit.

it didn't hurt. It felt good,' I said.

I played with the toothpicks on the table to avoid eye

Contact.

'Fuck man, how far are you guys?'

'What? Hey Omi, go call Ish for lunch. We are here and he has no idea.'

'Yes, he really has no idea,' Omi said and left.

A noisy gang played on the pool table near us. I had five minutes until Ish

came back. Thoughts came to me.
Will Omi say something stupid to him? No, Omi

was not that stupid.

Omi and Ish walked in laughing. Ok, all is good.

'Hog's Breath? Can you think of a worse name for a restaurant?' Ish said and

laughed.

‘I can,’ Omi said.

'Don't say it. Anyway, where's the toilet? I have to go siphon the...,' Ish said.

'Over there,' I interrupted him and pointed to the corner. I had enough of

Aussies for a lifetime.

'Are you intimate with her?' Omi continued. 'Did you say anything to him?' I

said. 'You think I'm stupid?' 'Yeah.'

'I didn't. Now tell me, what stage are you in the relationship?' Omi said.

'Stage?' I said.

'Yes, there is a "we-just-look" stage, the most common stage in the old city.

Then a "we-just-talk" stage. Then a "hold-hand" stage. Then a...'

'It's not like that. It's different between us.'

'Fuck, that's an advanced stage. When you think your relationship is different

from any other in this world. Don't do anything stupid ok?'

'Stupid?'

Omi leaned forward to whisper.

'You know stupid. Ish will kill you, or her dad will. Or any man who is related

to her will. Remember that guy in the car? Trust me, you don't want to be that

boy, or that car.'

'Well, it's nothing really. Just good friends,' I said and looked towards the toilet.

'Just good friends should be a banned phrase. There is nothing more

misleading. You are her teacher damn it. And how old is she? Seventeen?'

'Turns eighteen in a few months.'

'Oh great,' Omi said.

Ish came out of the toilet. He cracked a joke with the Aussie guys playing pool.

I turned to Omi.

'I don't want to talk about it. Don't worry, I won't do anything stupid. She

sucks at maths. I don't know why I agreed to teach her in the first place.'

'Then stop teaching her no?' Omi said.

'Can we get lunch, I really want to get lunch,' I said and flipped the menu.

'I am just saying...'

'Ish,' I screamed across the bar, 'What do you want? Garlic bread is the

cheapest item on the menu.'

'Whatever, I trust you,' he screamed back as he continued to play pool with the

Aussie guys.

His last phrase bobbed up and down in my head like the surfboards on Bondi

beach.



These houses are huge,' I said as we drove past a rich neighbourhood called

Double Bay.

Fred had picked us up for breakfast on Sunday, our last day. Ish, Omi and Ali

sat at the back in Fred's Saab convertible while I rode in the front. Cool air blew

through our hair as we drove past Sydney's early morning streets.

'But most people have modest places,' Fred said. 'In Australia, we don't brag

about how much money we make or what car you drive. Heck, people don't even

ask what job you do. Do you know what people ask the most?'

'What?' Ish said.

'What do you play, that's what they ask,' Fred said.

'I love Australia. I wish India approached sports with the same spirit.' Ish

leaned forward.

'Here sports is a national obsession,' Fred said. 'What's the obsession in your

country then?'

'There's a lot of people. And there's a lot of obsessions. That's the problem,' Ish

said.

'But religion and politics are pretty big. And them together, even bigger,' I

added.

I stay out of that stuff. Aussie politics are a joke anyway,' Fred said, killing the

engine.

We parked in an area called Paramatta Park. Fred had brought us to Lachan's

Restaurant in the Old Colonial House. We went inside the restaurant to find two

men waiting for us.

'Good morning Mr Greener and Mr Cutler.' Fred introduced us to the two older

men.

'And this is the talented boy?' Mr Greener patted All's back.

'Yep, as talented as the man above sends them,' Fred said as we settled at the

table.

'These are the gentlemen who helped me get your tickets. Not| my ex-

girlfriend,' Fred said and winked at us.

'What?' Ish said as we understood the purpose of Fred inviting us. It wasn't to

just play for a week.

'Remember my phone calls from Goa? To these gentlemen,' Fred said.

'Mr Greener is the chairman of the Australian Sports Academy and Mr Cutler is

head of the AIS scholarship programme.' Fred buttered some toast 'I told them

about AIL How he is good, really good, and how with proper training he has the

potential to go really far.'

I saw Ish s face tighten in anticipation. Were they going to sponsor Ali?

'If he is as good as Fred and his boys who played with you say you are,' Mr

Greener said, 'we should do whatever we can to help'

"Thank you, thank you,' Ish said as Fred shushed him. Over-excitement was a

constant problem with Ish. His sister as well, Maybe it was hereditary.

'You see,' Mr Cutler cleared his throat, 'the AIS selects from the nominations of

the various state academies. I can get Ali selected, However, Ali doesn't live in any

Australian state.'

'So?' Ish said.

'Under AIS rules, the scholarship holder must be an Australian resident, or at

least a person in the process of becoming a resident'

'Can't we make an exception?' I said. Omi was too busy eating to talk. Omi and

Ali had hardly spoken during the entire trip. The Aussie accent stumped them.

'Well, the only way we can do it is this,' Mr Cutler said and took out a file. He

opened it and laid out some forms on the table.

'Or Cutler had to pull serious strings at the immigration department for this,'

Mr Greener laughed in a friendly manner.

'Well, this is the Australian citizenship forms. As you may know, a lot of people

in the world want it. But here, given the great talent, we are offering Ali an

Australian citizenship.'

Ali and Omi stopped eating as they saw the forms on the table.

'He'll become Australian?' Omi said. 'He'll become a champion,' Fred said.

'His parents will have residency rights, too. And Ish, you can ... your friends

here, too, can apply. We will assist you in every way. Chances are good,' Mr

Cutler said.

'You love Australia.' Fred winked at Ish.

'Think about the child's future. From what I hear, his means are rather, er,

limited," Mr Cutler said.

They meant poor. I nodded. Ali's life would transform. 'They have a point,' I told

Ish, who still looked shell-shocked.

'Why don't you ask Ali first? It is his life and his decision,' Mr Greener said.

'Yes, no pressure,' Fred said, turning over both his palms. We explained the

offer in simple terms to Ali while a waiter cleared our plates.

'So, Ah ... what do you want?' Ish said.

'If I make it to the team, who will I play for?' Ah said.

Australia,' Mr Cutler said.

'But I'm an Indian,' Ali said.

'But you can become an Australian as well. We are a multicultural society,' Mr

Greener said. 'No,' Ali said.

'What?'

'I am an Indian. I want to play for India. Not for anyone

else.'

'But son, we will give you the same respect as your own country, And some

good coaching,' Mr Greener said.

'I have a good coach,' Ali said and looked at Ish. Ish beamed at his proudest

moment ever.

'It will be tough to make it in your country. Your coach knows that,' Mr Cutler

said.

Ali spoke slowly after a pause.

'It's ok if I don't become a player, but it's not ok if I am not an Indian,' Ali said.

Maybe he never meant it to be profound, but that was his deepest statement yet.

'But,' Mr Cutler said. He leaned forward and put his hand on Ali's shoulder.

Ali slid next to Ish and hid against him.

The officials tried for another half an hour. They asked if we could speak to

Ali's parents, but realised this wasn't going to work after all. I maintained the

polite conversation.

'We are sorry. We do realise that this is a big, big honour,' I said, 'sorry Fred.

What you have done for us is huge.'

'No worries mate. Your kid is good and he knows it. If you can make a billion

people proud, why bother with us down under?' Fred said and laughed. He didn't

show if he was upset. Sportsman spirit, I guess.

We saw the officials off to their car.

'Never mind mate. Maybe next time, next life in this case. You could be

Australian, who knows?' Mr Greener said as he slid into the driving seat of his

silver Honda Accord.

'I don't want to,' Ali said, his face emerging from hiding behind Ish.

'What?'

'I don't want to be Australian in my next life. Even if I have a hundred next

lives, I want to be Indian in all of them,' Ali said.

A plane flew above us. I looked up in the sky. I was glad I was going home

tonight.

Fifteen

Vidya. Vidya. Vidya - her name rang like an alarm in my head. I ran through

tomato sellers and marble playing kids to reach her house on time.

I had tons of work. There were waiting suppliers, stuck stocks and unattended

orders. However, Vidya's thoughts dominated them all. A part of me, the logical

part, told me this was not a good idea. Businessmen should not waste time on

stupid things like women. But the other irrational part of me loved it. And this

part controlled me at the moment.
Where is Vidya?
I looked up at her window as

1 pressed the bell downstairs.

'Govind,' Vidya's dad opened the door. I froze. Why does every male in the

family of the girl you care about instil a fear in your soul?

'Uncle, Vidya ... tuitions,' I said.

'She is upstairs, on the terrace,' he said as he let me in. He picked up a

newspaper from the coffee table. Why do old people like newspapers so much?

They love reading the news, but what do they do about it? I went to the internal

staircase to go up to the terrace.

He spoke again as I climbed the steps. ‘How is she? Will she make it to the

medical entrance?’

'She is a bright student,' I said in a small voice. ‘Not like her useless brother,’

uncle said. He buried himself into the newspaper, dismissing me.

I climbed up to the terrace. Vidya stood there with an air-hostess smile.

'Welcome to my al fresco tuition place.'

She went and sat on a white plastic chair with a table and an extra chair in

front 'I had so many doubts,' she said, flipping through her notebook.

Smoke came out from under the table. 'Hey, what's this?' I said. 'Mosquito coil,'

she said.

I bent under the table to see the green, smouldering spiral coil. I also saw her

bare feet. She had her trademark pearl-white nail polish only on the toenail tips.