The 3 Mistakes of My Life Read online

  ‘Meet the Australians?’ Omi said as he dusted the counter. Ish and I sat on the floor in front of the TV.

  ‘They are in India,’ Ish said. He pointed to the Australian team batting on the screen. ‘When are we ever going to get a chance like this?’

  ‘Is he mad?’ Omi asked me.

  ‘Of course, he is. What will you do by meeting them? Really?’ I joined in.

  ‘I want to get their opinion on Ali.’

  ‘How?’ Omi said as he sat down with us.

  ‘We will go see a match. Maybe a one-day,’ Ish said.

  ‘There is no money for trips,’ I said.

  ‘The one-day series will continue for the next two months. If business picks up, then we could,’ Ish said.

  ‘They are raping us again. Fuck, business is never going to pick up,’ I said as I saw the score. On the first day at tea, Australia’s score was 193/1.

  ‘If it does. I said if,’ Ish said, upset at the score more than me.

  ‘So we go see a match. Then what? Knock on Hayden’s door and say, ‘‘Hey, check this kid out.’’ How do you intend to meet them?’ I mocked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ish turned to the screen, scowling. ‘Bowl better, guys.’

  ‘Excuse me, are you watching the India-Australia match?’ a lady’s voice interrupted us.

  An elderly woman stood at the counter with a puja thali in her hand.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Can my grandson watch it with you for a while?’ she said.

  I stood up from the floor. A small boy accompanied the lady. I was never keen on random people coming into our shop to spend their time. She sensed my hesitation. ‘We’ll buy something. I want to attend the bhajans inside and Babloo wants to see the match.’

  ‘Of course, he can come in.’ Ish opened the door wider. The boy came in and sat before the TV. Ish and I exchanged a round of dirty looks.

  ‘Don’t watch from so close Babloo. Hello, I am Mrs Ganguly by the way. I also need advice on buying cricket equipment for my school, if you can visit me sometime.’

  ‘School?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I am the principal of the Kendriya Vidyalaya on Ellisbridge. We never had good suppliers for sports. Everybody thinks we are government so they try and rip us off. You supply to schools, no?’

  The answer was no. We did not supply to schools.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘In fact, we have our inhouse advisor Ishaan. He is an ex-district level player.’

  ‘Great. I will see you then,’ Mrs Ganguly said and left us to ponder over her business proposition.

  ‘You want candy, Babloo?’ Omi said as we tried our best to impress anyone related to Mrs Ganguly.

  ‘But we are not suppliers,’ Ish said later.

  ‘So what? You have to swing this for me, Ish. This is a regular income business.’

  ‘If I get you this, will you come to Goa?’

  ‘Goa?’ I raised my eyebrows.

  ‘It’s the last one-day. I am stretching it out as far as I can. If we save enough, let’s go with Ali.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Say yes.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. After the mall fiasco, I wanted to make Ish happy. I stood up to check the day’s accounts.

  ‘Cool. Hey, see the match?’ Ish said. ‘It has totally turned.’

  I looked at the TV. Perhaps God listened to Mrs Ganguly’s prayers inside. A little known Surd called Harbhajan Singh had bowled after tea. Wickets crumbled and from 193/1, Australia ended the day at 291/8.

  ‘Bhajji, you are great,’ Ish bent forward to kiss the TV.

  ‘Don’t watch the TV from so close,’ Babloo said.

  ‘Don’t listen to grown-ups all the time. Nobody went blind watching TV from close. Don’t people work on computers?’ Ish was jumping up and down in excitement.

  Mrs Ganguly came in two hours later to pick up Babloo. She bought him two tennis balls. I was tempted to throw them in for free, but she might take it the wrong way.

  ‘Here,’ she said, giving me her card. ‘We have a board meeting every Monday. Why don’t you come and tell us how you can help?’

  We had four days to prepare. The board would be in a better mood if India won this match.

  ‘Sure, we will see you then,’ I said and slipped a candy to Babloo.

  Day 2

  The only way to describe the second day of the match was ‘depressing’. From 291/8, Australia dragged on their first innings to end at a healthy 445 all out. The Indians came out to bat and opener Ramesh got out for no score.

  ‘Who the fuck is this Ramesh? Connection quota,’ Ish said.

  But it wasn’t only Ramesh who sucked. Tendulkar scored ten, others even less. Dravid scored the highest at twenty-five. The second day ended with India at 128/8.

  Ish tore his chapattis with anger over dinner. ‘These Australians must be thinking – why even bother to come and play with India.’

  ‘Pray for a draw. With a draw there is hope of sales. Else we should change our business. Sports is the wrong choice in our country.’ I passed the daal to Omi.

  ‘They have twenty million people. We have one billion, growing at two per cent a year. Heck, we create an Australia every year. Still, they cream us. Something is wrong about this.’

  ‘Should we open another flower shop? There will always be a demand for that in a temple,’ I said.

  Ish ignored me. He mumbled something about avoiding a follow-on, which looked pretty difficult.

  Day 3

  The next morning I don’t know why we even bothered to switch on the TV. India struggled to stretch their first innings, but packed up before lunch at 171 all out. ‘And the Australians have asked India to follow on,’ the commentator said and I slapped my forehead. A defeat in a test match was one thing, but an innings defeat meant empty parks for weeks. Kids would rather read textbooks than play cricket and be reminded of India’s humiliation. Why on earth had I started this business? What an idiot I am? Why couldn’t I open a sweet shop instead? Indians would always eat sweets. Why sports? Why cricket?

  ‘That’s fucking-follow-on-fantastic,’ Ish said, inventing his own phrases for the moment. He clenched his fist and came dangerously close to the TV. ‘We had them by their balls at 291/8, and now they ask us to follow on?’

  ‘Should we turn off the TV?’ I said. Should we close the shop for good? I thought.

  ‘Wait, I want to see this. I want to see how our team makes eye contact when they lose so badly,’ Ish said.

  ‘They are not making eye contact. You are just watching them on TV,’ Omi said.

  ‘If this match is a draw, I will treat you all to dinner. Ok, two dinners,’ Ish said.

  For its second innings, India made one change. It replaced the opener Ramesh with another new guy called Laxman.

  ‘The team is full of people with contacts. Everyone is getting their turn today,’ Ish said as the Indian openers took the crease for the second follow-on innings.

  But Laxman connected with the ball and bat. He slammed four after four. At the end of the third day, India stood at a respectable 254/4. Adding that to the first innings score of 171, India needed only 20 runs to match Australia’s first innings of 445. An innings defeat looked unlikely, and, yes, we could even draw now.

  ‘See, that’s what the Indian team does. Right when you give up hope, they get you involved again,’ Ish said at dinner.

  ‘You were going to see all days anyway. Please think about our Monday meeting,’ I said.

  ‘Laxman’s job is not done. He needs to be around if we want a draw,’ Ish said.

  I sighed. I would have to prepare for the school meeting by myself.

  Day 4

  If there was a day that India dominated world cricket, it was on the fourth day of the match. Yes, India won the World Cup on 25 June 1983 and so that counted, too. But the day I’m talking about was when two Indian batsmen made eleven Australian cricketers dance to their tune. They did it in public and they did it the whole day.