Three Mistakes Of My Life Part 23

'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?'

'f.u.c.k 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 h.e.l.l 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.

'f.u.c.k 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 relations.h.i.+p?' 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.' 'f.u.c.k, that's an advanced stage. When you think your relations.h.i.+p 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 d.a.m.n 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 scholars.h.i.+p programme.' Fred b.u.t.tered 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 antic.i.p.ation. 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 scholars.h.i.+p 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 citizens.h.i.+p 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 citizens.h.i.+p.'

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 a.s.sist 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 sh.e.l.l-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.