The 3 Mistakes of My Life Read online

  ‘But we used protection. And how does it work with girls? Are they always on time?’ I asked. Nothing in the world was always exactly on time.

  ‘Mine are. Normally I don’t care. But now that I am with you, even a slight delay scares me. And the anxiety creates more delay.’

  ‘Do you want to see a doctor?’ I was desperate to suggest a solution.

  ‘And say what? Please check if I am pregnant?’

  Another P-word to freak men out. No, she did not say that. ‘You can’t be pregnant?’ I said.

  Sweat erupted on my forehead like I had jogged thrice around the ATIRA lawns. I rubbed my hands and took deep breaths.

  ‘Why not?’ she retorted, her face tense. ‘And can you be supportive and not hyperventilate.’

  ‘Let’s sit down,’ I said and pointed to a bench. I threw the packet of groundnuts in the dustbin. She sat next to me. I debated whether I should put my arm around her. My being close to her had caused this anyway. She kept quiet. Two tears came rolling out of her eyes. God, I had to figure out something. My mind processed the alternatives at lightning speed. (a) Make her laugh – bad idea, (b) Step away and let her be – no, (c) Suggest potential solutions like the A word – hell no, (d) Hold her – maybe, ok hold her, hold her and tell her you will be there for her. Do it, moron.

  I slid closer to her on the bench and embraced her. She hid her face on my shoulder and cried. Her hands clutched my shirt.

  ‘Don’t worry, I will be there for you,’ I said.

  ‘Why, why is it so unfair? Why do only I have to deal with this?’ she cried, ‘why can’t you get pregnant at the same time?’

  Because I am biologically male, I wanted to say. But I think she knew that.

  ‘Listen Vidya, we used the rhythm method, we used protection. I know it is not hundred per cent but the probability is so low…’

  Vidya just shook her head and cried. Maths is always horrible at reassuring people. Nobody believed in probability in emotional moments.

  A family walked by. The man carried a fat boy on his shoulders. I found it symbolic of the potential burden in my life. The thought train started again. I am twenty-two years old. I have big dreams for my business. I have my mother to support. Come to think of it, I have to take care of my friends’ careers too. And Vidya? She is only eighteen. She has to study more, be a PR person or whatever she wants to be. She couldn’t move from one prison to the next. Ok, worst case I have to mention the A-word.

  She slid away from me. The crying had made her eyes wet and face pink. She looked even more beautiful. Why can’t men stop noticing beauty, ever? We stood up to walk back after a few minutes.

  ‘Let’s wait for a day or two more. We’ll see what we have to do then,’ I said as we reached the auto stand.

  ‘It’s probably a false alarm. I’m overreacting. I should have waited for a day or two longer before telling you,’ she said. She clasped my fingers in the auto. Her face vacillated from calm to worried.

  We kept quiet in the auto for five minutes. Then I had to say it. ‘Vidya, in case, just in case it is not a false alarm. What are we going to do? Or should we talk about it later?’

  ‘You tell me, what do you want to do?’

  When women ask you for your choice, they already have a choice in mind. And if you want to maintain sanity, you’d better choose the same.

  I looked into her eyes to find out the answer she expected from me. I couldn’t find it.

  ‘I don’t know. This is too big a news for me. I can’t say what we will do. Pregnancy, abortion, I don’t know how all this works.’

  ‘You want me to get an abortion?’

  ‘No, no. I said I don’t know. What’s the other option, marriage?’

  ‘Excuse me, I am eighteen. I just passed out of school,’ she said.

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to think. Please don’t talk about it,’ she said.

  We kept quiet for the rest of the auto journey.

  ‘Here, take this maths guide to show at home,’ I said and passed her a book when she reached home.

  Vidya and I exchanged ten ‘are you asleep’ and ‘not yet’ messages that night.

  ‘What’s up?’ Ish said as I laid my head on the cashbox early morning.

  ‘Nothing. Couldn’t sleep well,’ I said.

  ‘Why? Thinking of Pandit-ji’s daughter,’ Ish laughed. I ignored him. Every few hours I had the urge to send Vidya a ‘did anything happen’ message. But she would tell me if something happened. I opened a calendar and tracked all the past dates of our intimacy. Apart from the first time several months ago, I had used protection every time. Could they be late for any other reason? I didn’t know and I could not ask anyone. Ish and Omi probably didn’t even know the P-word. And there was no other woman I knew apart from Vidya. And I couldn’t ask mom anyway. I picked up my phone again. ‘How is it going?’, I sent a neutral message. ‘Nothing yet’, she replied back.

  The next night I did get some sleep. I sprang out of bed early morning to SMS her again. I had an SMS from her already, ‘a bit of pain, nothing else’.

  I threw the phone away. I wanted to reach the shop early to take out supplies from the godown. Somehow, I hated being late anymore.

  Eighteen

  ‘Are trains ever on time?’ Mama’s loud voice interrupted us while we were at work. Ish dragged out a heavy box of wickets from the godown.

  ‘Mama, you here so early?’ Omi said.

  Mama kept two pink paper boxes on the wicket box. He had a tikka from the morning prayers on his forehead.

  ‘I had bought hot kachoris for my son and other sevaks. Their train was supposed to reach at 5 a.m. But it is five hours late. Now what to do? Thought I will have them with you,’ Mama said and took out a kachori.

  ‘So leftover breakfast for us?’ Omi said and laughed.

  ‘They are absolutely fresh. I’ll get more when they come. Eat them while they are still hot, come Ish, Govind,’ Mama said.

  ‘Didn’t know you boys come here so early,’ Mama said. The shop’s clock said eight o’ clock.

  ‘Had some work in the godown,’ I said and took a bite of a kachori. It tasted delicious.

  We ordered tea and sat on the stools outside the shop.

  Mama talked to Omi about their relatives. Ish and I discussed the delivery plan for the day. The shop didn’t open until nine. We could eat in peace.

  ‘Third round of tea? Ok? Yeah good,’ Mama said and called for the tea-boy again. I had two kachoris and felt full.

  Mama stood up to leave at 9.30 a.m. I wrapped the boxes back for him.

  ‘Keep them,’ Mama said, ‘I’ll get more any way.’

  ‘No Mama, we have had enough…’

  Mama’s phone ring interrupted me. Mama picked up the phone. His face became serious. His mouth opened and his eyes darted around.

  ‘I don’t know the coach number, why are you asking me?’ Mama said.

  ‘What’s up Mama?’ Omi said.

  Mama put his hand on the phone and turned to Omi.

  ‘It is a junior party official in Ayodhya. He put our sevak team in the train the day before. Now he wants the coach number. And he isn’t telling me why,’ Mama said.

  ‘Wait,’ Omi said and went inside the shop. He came out with a notebook.

  ‘Here, I had noted the PNR number and other details while making the booking,’ Omi said.

  Mama took the notebook and spoke on the phone again.

  ‘Ok listen, they were in S6 … yeah, it says S6, hundred per cent S6, hello listen … why are you praying while talking to me? Hey, hello…’

  The person on the other end hung up the phone. Mama tried to call the number back but no one picked up.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I said.

  ‘I don’t know. I have to … I’ll go to the station,’ Mama said.

  ‘I’ll come with you?’ Omi said.

  ‘No, it’s fine. I had to go anyway. I’ll find out,’ Mam