sonu kumar
Posted On: 09-04-2019
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Three mistakes of my life

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Fourteen

The phone rang twice. I disconnected it. I thought about leaving the booth. I re-
inserted the coins and dialled again. 'Hello? Ishaan bhaiya?' Vidya said as she
picked up the phone.
The phone gobbled two dollars worth of coins. I cut the phone again. Fuck,
what the hell was I doing? I called again with fresh coins. She picked up
instantly. 'Bhaiya, can you hear me?'
I did the cheesiest thing possible. I just breathed. I must have come across as a
pervert, but I could not find anything better to say.
'Govind?' she said, her voice careful. Had she guessed my breath? What is with
this kid? 'Hi,' I said. I could not contain myself any longer. 'Govind, wow. I saw
the international number. So, tell me?' Of all the phrases ever said on the phone,
I hate 'tell me' the most. Do I have to tell something just because I have called?
'Well, I...'
'How is Australia? Having fun? Tell me?'
I could kill her if she said tell me again. But maybe I should just tell her
something, I thought.
'Yes, it is nice. You will like this place,' I said.
'Which place? Tell more no? Where are you now?'
'Bondi beach. It is beautiful. Such a perfect place,' I said. Of course, I gave
stupid descriptions. But you try to call a girl you are not supposed to call for the
first time.
To add to the nervousness, the phone consumed coins at a ferocious pace. I
kept adding more change as the damn phone ate a dollar every thirty seconds.
'Wow. I have never seen a real beach in my life. How is it? Does the water never
end? Can you keep looking until forever?'
'Yeah, and the sky is endless too.' Duh! Say something more than borrowing
from her phrases.
'Where are Ish and Omi?'
'They are in the water. I am in a booth,' I said.
She asked the one question I did not want her to ask.
'So, how come you called?'
'Oh nothing. How is the preparation going? Integration is quite important you
know.'
'You called about integration?'
'Well, and other...'
'Do you miss me?'
'Vidya.'
'What?'
'Don't ask silly questions.'
'I miss you. A lot actually,' she said. Her voice became heavy. 'Ok, that's well,
that's ... wow,' I said, champion of nonsensical, monosyllabic responses.
'Yeah, and not as a tutor. As a friend. As a very good friend.'
A 'very good friend' is a dangerous category with Indian girls. From here you
can either make fast progress. Or, if you play it wrong, you go down to the lowest
category invented by Indian women ever - rakhi brother. Rakhi brother really
means 'you can talk to me, but don't even freaking think about anything else youbore'. A little voice in my mind shouted at me, 'tell her you miss her stupid, or
you'll be getting rakhis for the rest of your life.'
'I do. If you were here, Sydney would be more fun.'
'Wow, that's the nicest thing you ever said to me.'
I kept quiet. When you have said something nice, don't be in a hurry to speak
again and ruin the good line.
'Can I get you anything from here?' I said.
'Tight budget, isn't it?' she said.
'Yeah, but a little something won't hurt...,' I said.
'I have an idea. Get me some sand from the beach you are on right now. That
way I will have a piece of Sydney with me.'
Sand? Now that was a weird request. At least it was cheap. Free, rather.
'Really?' I said.
'Yeah, bring me a matchbox full of sand. And put some feelings in it if there is
space,' she said.
The phone display blinked. It threatened me to feed it with more money or my
first romantic conversation would be murdered. I had no coins left.
'Listen, I have to go now. No more change,' I said.
'Sure, come back soon. Someone's missing you.'
'Back in three days. I miss you too,' I said and cleared my throat. Wow, I could
actually say what I felt after all.
'And I want to tell you something...,' she said.
'What?'
Beep. Beep. Beep. A stupid Australian company called Telstra ruined my first
romantic moment.
I walked back. I thought about the girl who only wanted sand. I also thought
how much money telecom companies must make given a tiny call cost me as
much as a meal.
I passed a trendy outdoor restaurant called Blue Orange Cafe. Australians give
the word laid-back new meaning. People sit with a glass of beer for hours.
Beautiful waitresses scampered around getting people burgers and toasted
sandwiches.
I took a match box from the bar and emptied the sticks in a dustbin. I walked
back to the shore until the surfy water touched my toes. I looked around and
bent over. I stuffed some sand in the matchbox and put it in my pocket.
'Hey, what are you doing?' Omi said as he emerged from the waves like the
world's ugliest mermaid.
'Nothing, what are you doing this side? The waves are better at the other end,' I
said.
'I came to meet you. Can I borrow a few coins for a Coke. I feel thirsty.'
'Coins are finished. Have some cash left for today, but let's use it to eat lunch.'
'Finished?' Omi said.
'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?'
'Fuck 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 hell 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.
'Fuck 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 relationship?' 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.''Fuck, that's an advanced stage. When you think your relationship 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 damn 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 scholarship programme.' Fred buttered 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 anticipation. 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 scholarship 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 citizenship 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 citizenship.'
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 assist 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 shell-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.
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.

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