Three Mistakes Of My Life Part 24

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.

CHAPTER 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.

'The coil is not working,' I said as I came up, 'I see a mozzie party on top of your head.'

'Mozzie?'

'It is what they call mosquitoes in Australia,' I said.

'Oh, foreign returned now. How was Australia?'

'Great,' I looked at her. I tried to be normal. I couldn't, not after that call. I had opened my cards already. No matter how close I held them to my chest now, she.

had seen them.

I noticed her dress. She wore a new purple and white bandhini salwar kameez today. Her necklace had a purple teardrop pendant and matching earrings. She had freshly bathed. Her hair smelt of a little bit of Dettol soap and well, her.

Every girl has a wonderful smell right after a bath. I think they should bottle it and sell it.

'You brought my gift,' she said to break the pause, or rather to fill up the silence as I checked her out.

'Yeah,' I said.

I stood up to take out the match box from my jeans pocket.

'Blue Orange Cafe, cool,' she said. She took the box and slid it open with her thin fingers. 'Wow, an Australian beach in my hands,' she said. She held it up with pride as if I had presented the queen's stolen diamonds.

'I feel silly. I should have brought something substantial,' I said.

'No, this is perfect. Look there is a tiny sh.e.l.l inside,' she signalled me to lean forward. Our heads met in a dull thud as we looked into the matchbox's contents.

Her toes touched mine as we inched closer.

'Ouch,' she said as she pulled her feet away.

'What?' I said.

'Nothing, the mosquito coil,' she said, 'I touched the hot tip.'

I sat back upright. Water droplets had pa.s.sed from her hair to mine. Half the mosquitoes hovering over her head had s.h.i.+fted over to mine as well.

'Why am I so cheap?' I said.

'It's fine. The call would have cost something.'

'Yeah, five dollars and sixty cents,' I said and regretted talking like an accountant the next second.

'There you go. Anyway, life's best gifts are free,' she said and pulled her hair back to tie them with a rubber band.

I nodded. Ok, enough is enough, my inner Mr Logical told me. Time to study.

I opened the books. She asked the dreaded question. 'So how come you called?'

'I told you,' I mumbled.

'Did you really miss me?' she said and put her palm on my hand.

I pulled it back in reflex. She looked surprised.

'I am sorry, Vidya. I shouldn't. I have my business to focus on and this is really not my thing, but...,' I said and turned away. I couldn't talk when I looked at her.

Or rather, I couldn't talk when she looked at me.

'It's ok, you don't have to be sorry,' she said.

'It's not ok. I don't have time for emotions,' I said in a firm voice, 'and this is not the place anyway. My best friend's sister? What the f.u.c.k ... oops, sorry.'

She giggled.

'Be serious, Vidya. This is not right. I am your teacher, your brother trusts me as a friend, I have responsibilities - loans, business and a mother. You are not even eighteen.'

'Two months,' she wiggled two fingers. 'Two months and I will turn eighteen.

Time to bring me another nice gift. Anyway, please continue.'

'Well, whatever. The point is, significant reasons exist for me not to indulge in illogical emotions. And I want...'

She stood up and came to my side. She sat on the flimsy armrest of my plastic chair.

She put her finger on my mouth. She cupped my face in her palms.

'You don't shave that often eh? Ew,' she said. She threw a tiny spit ball in the air.

'What?' I said and looked at her.

'I think a mosquito kissed me,' she said and spit again, 'is it still there in my mouth?'

She opened her mouth and brought it close. Her lips were eight millimetres apart from mine.

Soon the gap reduced to zero. I don't know if I came towards her or she came towards me. The tiny distance made it difficult to ascertain who took the initiative. I felt something warm on my lips and realised that we have come too dose, or maybe too far.

We kissed again. The mosquitoes on our respective heads re-joined.

I'd love to say I saw stars and heard sweet, music during my first kiss. But the dominating background sounds were (a) Vidya's mom's pressure cooker whistle from downstairs in the kitchen, (b) the campaign sounds from the autos of various parties for the upcoming elections and (c) the constant buzz of the mozzies. But when you are in the middle of a kiss, sound and sight get muted I checked once to see if the other terraces were empty. Then I closed my eyes.

'Vidya, what are we doing,' I said, not letting her go. I couldn't stop. Probability, algebra, trigonometry and calculus - the pa.s.sion held back in all those cla.s.ses came blazing out.

'It's fine, it's fine,' she kept rea.s.suring me and kissing me.

We broke away from each other because even pa.s.sionate people need oxygen.

She looked at me with a big grin.

I packed my pens and books. No maths tonight.

'Why aren't you making eye contact?' She remarked, mischief in her voice.

I kept silent.

'You are older than me and a hundred times better than me in maths. But, in some ways, I am way more mature than you.' 'Oh, yeah?' I challenged weakly, collecting the textbooks. She pulled my chin up.

'I am turning eighteen. I can do whatever I want,' she said. The loudspeaker of a campaign auto continued in the background. 'I can vote in that election,' she continued, 'I can have a bank account, I can marry, I can...'

'Study. You can also try to get into a good college,' I interrupted her.

She laughed. We stood up and walked over to the watertank on the terrace. We leaned against the tank and saw the sunset. We talked about everything other than maths. I told her about the academy, the dinner with Fred, the blue Australian sky and the loamy water on Bondi beach.

She listened in excitement. She said she wished she could have a home on the beach and how she would colour the walls inside pink and yellow. It is amazing how specific girls can get about hypothetical scenarios. 'Want coffee?' she said.

'You'll have to go down?' I said as I held her hand on instinct. A voice in me still protested, but now that voice had no volume.

'No, I have a secret stash under the water tank. Come,' she said and pulled at my hand.

The five feet cubical cement water tank was raised from the ground on reinforced concrete pillars. Between the tank and the ground, there was a gap of four feet We could sit on the ground under the tank.

'This is my favourite place since I was a kid,' she said. I bent on my knees and'

slid inside, following her. She pulled out a picnic basket. It had a thermos flask, red plastic cups and Marie biscuits.

'Welcome to Vidya's rooftop cafe" sir,' she said and pa.s.sed me a cup.