The 3 Mistakes Of My Life (4 page)

'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 Amdavad 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 rest room.

'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. 1 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 for this. I really want to run a business. I can't do it

without partners. It's cricket,' I appealed to Ish.

'I'm in,' Omi smiled. 'I don't have to be a priest and I get to work from home.

I'm so in.'

'I won't handle money. I'll focus on the cricket,' Ish said.

I smiled. Yes, he was coming around.

'Of course. You think I will let you handle cash? So, are we partners?' I

stretched out my liand.

Omi hi-fived me and Ish joined in.

'What are we going to call it?' Omi said in the auto.

'Ask Ish,' I said. If Ish named it, he would feel more connected to the project.

'How about Team India Cricket Shop?' Ish suggested. 'Great name,' I said and

watched Ish smile for the first time that evening.

'Two rupees fifty paise each, guys,' I said as the auto stopped near my pol in

Belrampur.

'Here you go Mr Accounts,' Ish said and passed his share.

Two

The Team India Cricket Shop opened with the smashing of a coconut on the

morning of 29 April 2000. All our immediate families had come. My mother and

Omi's family were visibly happy while Ish's parents were silent. They still

visualised Ish as an army officer, not a shopkeeper in Belrampur.

'May Laxmi shower all blessings on you hardworking boys,' Omi's mother said

before she left.

Soon, it was just us in our twenty-feet-by-ten-feet shop. 'Move the counter in,

the shutter won't close,' Ish screamed at Omi. Omi's forehead broke into sweat as

he lifted the bulky counter-top yet again to move it back an inch.

I stepped out of the shop and crossed the road for the tenth time to look at the

board. It was six feet wide and two feet tall. We had painted it blue - the colour of

the Indian team. In the centre, we had the letters 'Team India Cricket Shop' in the

colours of the Indian flag. The excited painter from Shahpur had thrown in the

faces of Tendulkar and Ganguly for free. Ganguly had a squint and Tendulkar's

lips looked bee-stung, but it all added to the charm.

'It's beautiful,' Omi said as he joined me in looking at the board.

Our first customer came at 12 noon. An under-ten boy strolled to the front of

our store as his mother bought puja flowers. The three of us sprung into action.

'Should I ask him what he wants?' Omi whispered to me.

I shook my head. Pushy meant desperate.

The boy looked at tennis balls and bounced a few of them. While no one played

tennis in Belrampur, kids played cricket with them.

'How much for the balls?' The boy moved to local balls. Clearly this was a price-

sensitive customer. He bounced five different ones on the ground.

'Eight bucks. You want one?' I said.

He nodded.

'You have money?'

'Mummy has,' he said.

'Where is mummy?'

'There,' he pointed in the general direction of the other temple shops. I picked

up the balls he had bounced and placed them in the basket.

His mother came running into our shop.

'There you are Sonu, stupid boy,' she pulled his elbow and took him out.

'Mummy, ball' was all he could say about his potential purchase.

'Don't worry, we will sell,' I told my business partners.

We made our first sale soon after. Two young brothers wearing branded clothes

came to the shop.

'How much for tennis balls?' one boy said.

'Eight bucks for Arrow, six bucks for the local basket there,' Ish said.

The boys moved to the local basket. They, started the ball-bouncing routine

again as my heart wept.

'So where do you play cricket?' Ish asked them. 'Satellite,' the elder boy said.

Satellite was an upmarket neighbourhood on the other side of the Sabarmati

river.

'What are you doing in the old city?' Ish said.

'We came to the temple. It is Harsh bhaiya's birthday,' the younger boy said.

I realised we had struck real-estate gold. The temple was ancient and drew in

people from the new city, too. And it was a birthday, every chance of pockets

being loaded.

'You want to see bats?' I asked from the cash counter.

The boys shook their heads.

Ish turned to me and signalled silence.

'Happy birthday, Harsh. You bowler or batsman?' Ish said.

Harsh looked up at Ishaan. A grown-up man asking an eleven-year-old if he

was a bowler or batsman was a huge honour. It meant he was now old enough to

be specialised, even though he may not have thought about it.

'Er, I am more of a batsman,' Harsh said.

'Defensive or attack?' Ish asked as if he was interviewing Tendulkar on ESPN.

'Huh?' Harsh said.

'You like shots?' Ish asked. Which kid didn't? Harsh nodded.

'Show me your stance,' Ish said. He turned to nie and asked for a bat, I went to

the stack of willow bats. I had bought them directly from a Kashmiri supplier in

Law Garden. I picked the right size for the boy. Size six and two hundred bucks.

Not top of the line, of course, but the best we could hope to sell here.

Harsh took a stance on the empty space in front of the shop. Like every kid, he

leaned his entire weight on the bat while standing. Ish moved over and gently

straightened Harsh's back. He moved his wrist upwards, and told him to balance

the weight evenly on the legs.

'And now, whenever you attack, use the front leg to move forward but do not

forget the back leg. That is your support, your anchor. Notice Tendulkar, he

keeps one leg fixed.'

An awestruck Harsh air-struck a few strokes.

'Give me some tips, too,' the younger one whined.

'First me, Chinu,' Harsh said.

Ish turned to Chinu. 'What are you, Chinu?'

'All-rounder,' Chinu said promptly.

'Great. Show me your bowling grip.'