The 3 Mistakes of My Life Read online

  I came out of the shower and dressed again.

  ‘Want to eat anything?’ my mother voiced her most quoted line from the kitchen.

  ‘No, I am going out with Ish and Omi to Gopi.’

  ‘Gopi? Why? I make the same things. What do you get at Gopi that I can’t give you at home?’

  Peace and quiet, I wanted to say.

  ‘It’s Ish’s treat. And I want to talk to them about my new business.’

  ‘So you are not repeating the engineering entrance,’ my mother came out of the kitchen. She raised dough-covered hands, ‘You can take a year to prepare. Stop taking tuitions for a while, we have money now.’

  My mother felt guilty about a million things. One of them was me not making it to a good engineering college. Tuitions and supporting my mom’s business meant I could study less for the entrance exams. I didn’t make it to IIT or any of the top institutes. I did make it to a far-flung college in Kutch, but it wasn’t worth it to leave my tuition income, friends, cricket at Nana Park and mom for that. Not that I felt any emotion, it just did not seem like the right trade. I could do maths honours right here in Ambavad University, continue tuitions and think about business. The Kutch college did not even guarantee a job.

  ‘I don’t want to be an engineer, mom. My heart is in business. Plus, I have already done two years of college. One more and I will be a graduate.’

  ‘Yes, but who gives a job to a maths graduate?’

  It was true. Maths honours was a stupid course to take from an economic point of view.

  ‘It is ok. I needed a degree and I can get it without studying much,’ I said. ‘I am a businessman, mom. I can’t change that.’

  My mother pulled my cheeks. Chunks of dough stuck to my face.

  ‘Be whatever. You are always my son first.’

  She hugged me. I hated it. I hate a display of emotion more than emotion itself.

  ‘I better go.’

  ‘That is your tenth chapatti,’ Ish told Omi.

  ‘Ninth. Who cares? It is a buffet. Can you pass the ghee please?’

  ‘All that food. It has to be bad for you,’ Ish said.

  ‘Two hundred push-ups.’ Omi said. ‘Ten rounds of Nana Park. One hour at Bittoo Mama’s home gym. You do this everyday like me and you can hog without worry.’

  People like Omi are no-profit customers. There is no way Gopi could make money off him.

  ‘Aamras, and ras malai. Thanks,’ Omi said to the waiter. Ish and I nodded for the same.

  ‘So, what’s up? I’m listening,’ Ish said as he scooped up the last spoon of aamras.

  ‘Eat your food first. We’ll talk over tea,’ I said. People argued less on a full stomach.

  ‘I am not paying for tea. My treat is limited to a thali,’ Ishaan protested.

  ‘I’ll pay for the tea,’ I said.

  ‘Relax, man. I was only joking. Mr Accounts can’t even take a joke. Right, Omi?’

  Omi laughed.

  ‘Whatever. Guys, you really need to listen today. And stop calling me Mr Accounts.’

  I ordered tea while the waiter cleared our plates.

  ‘I am serious, Ish. What do you plan to do with your life? We are not kids anymore,’ I said.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ Ish said and sighed. ‘Ok, then. I will apply for jobs, maybe do an NIIT computer course first. Or should I take an insurance job? What do you think?’

  I saw Ish’s face. He tried to smile, but I saw the pain. The champion batsman of Belrampur would become an insurance salesman. Belrampur kids had grown up applauding his boundaries at Nana Park. But now, when he had no life ahead, he wanted to insure other people’s lives.

  Omi looked at me, hoping I’d come up with a great option from Santa’s goodie bag. I was sick of parenting them.

  ‘I want to start a business,’ I began.

  ‘Not again,’ Ish said. ‘I can’t do that man. What was it the last time? A fruit dealership? Ugh! I can’t be weighing watermelons all day. And the crazy one after that, Omi?’

  ‘Car accessories. He said there is big money in that,’ Omi said as he slurped his dessert.

  ‘What? Put seat covers all day. No thanks. And the other one – stock broker. What is that anyway?’ Ish shrugged.

  ‘So what the fuck do you want to do? Beg people to buy insurance. Or sell credit cards at street corners? You, Ish, are a military school dropout,’ I said and paused for breath. ‘And you got a compartment in Class XII, twice. You can be a priest, Omi, but what about us?’

  ‘I don’t want to be a priest,’ Omi said listlessly.

  ‘Then, why do you oppose me even before I start? This time I have something that will interest you.’

  ‘What?’ Ish said.

  ‘Cricket,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ both of them said in unison.

  ‘There you go, nice to get your attention. Now can I talk?’

  ‘Sure,’ Ish waved a hand.

  ‘We are going to open a cricket shop,’ I said.

  I deliberately left for the restroom.

  ‘But how?’ Omi interrogated when I returned. ‘What is a cricket shop?’

  ‘A sports store really. But since cricket is the most popular game in Belrampur, we will focus on that.’

  Ish’s silence meant he was listening to me.

  ‘It will be a small retail store. Money for a shop deposit is a problem, so I need Omi’s help.’

  ‘Mine?’ Omi said.

  ‘Yes, we will open the shop right inside the Swami temple complex. Next to the flower and puja shops. I noticed an empty shop there. And it is part of the temple land.’

  ‘A cricket shop in a temple complex?’ Ish questioned.

  ‘Wait. Omi, do you think you can arrange that? Without that our plan is a non-starter.’

  ‘You mean the Kuber sweet shop that just closed? The temple trust will rent it out soon. And normally they let it out to something related to temple activities,’ Omi said.

  ‘I know. But you have to convince your dad. After all he runs the temple trust.’

  ‘He does, but Mama looks after the shops. Will we pay rent?’

  ‘Yes,’ I sighed. ‘But not immediately. We need a two-month waiver. And we cannot pay the deposit.’

  ‘I’ll have to go through mom,’ Omi said. Good, his mind was working.

  ‘Sorry to ask again, but a cricket shop in a temple complex? Who will buy? Seventy-year-old aunties who come for kirtan will want willow bats?’ Ish scoffed.

  The waiter had cleared our tea and presented the bill. By Gopi protocol, we had to be out of the restaurant in two minutes.

  ‘Good question. A cricket shop by a temple does sound strange. But think – is there any sports shop in Belrampur?’

  ‘Not really. You don’t even get leather balls. Ellis Bridge is the nearest,’ Ish said.

  ‘See, that’s number one. Number two, the temple is a family place. Kids are among the most bored people in temples. Where are they going to hang out?’

  ‘It is true,’ Omi said. ‘That is why so many balloon wallahs hover outside.’

  ‘And that is where Ish comes in. People know you were a good player. And you can give playing tips to every kid who comes to buy from us. Slowly, our reputation will build.’

  ‘But what about Christian or Muslim kids? They won’t come, right?’ Ish said.

  ‘Not at first but the shop is outside the temple. As word spreads, they will come. What choice do they have anyway?’

  ‘Where will we get what we sell?’ Ish said.

  ‘There’s a sports equipment supplier in Vastrapur who will give us a month’s credit. If we have the space, we are good to go without cash.’

  ‘But what if it doesn’t run?’ Ish asked with scepticism.

  ‘Worst case, we sell the stock at a loss and I’ll cover the rest through my tuition savings. But it will work, man. If you put your heart into it, it will.’

  Both of them remained silent.

  ‘Guys, please. I need you fo