Three Mistakes Of My Life Part 5

'Your shop is in a temple, and you are wearing shoes? A Brahmin priest's boy?'

'Mama, c'mon this is outside the temple. None of the other shopkeepers wear...'

'Other shopkeepers are useless baniyas so you will also become like them? Do you do puja every morning before you open?'

'Yes, Mama,' Omi lied point-blank.

'You also,' Mama said, referring to Ish and me. 'You are Hindu hoys. You have your shop in such a pure place. At least remove your shoes, light a lamp.' 'We come here to work, not to perform rituals,' I said. I now paid full rent every month to be in this shop. n.o.body told me how to run my business.

Mama looked surprised. 'What is your name?'

'Govind.'

'Govind what?'

'Govind Patel.'

'Hindu, no?'

'1 am agnostic,' I said, irritated as I wanted to shut the shop and go home.

'Agno...?'

'He is not sure if there is G.o.d or not,' Ish explained.

'Doesn't believe in G.o.d? What kind of friends do you have Omi?' Mama was aghast.

'No, that is an atheist,' I clarified. 'Agnostic means maybe G.o.d exists, maybe he doesn't. I don't know.'

'You young kids,' Bittoo said, 'such a shame. I had come to invite you and look at you.'

Omi looked at me. I turned my gaze away.

'Don't worry about Govind, Mama. He is confused.' I hate it when people take my religious status for confusion. Why did I have to or not have to believe in something?

Ish offered the Frooti to Bittoo Mama. It softened him a little.

'What about you?' Mama asked Ish.

'Hindu, Mama. I pray and everything.' Ish said. Yeah right only when six b.a.l.l.s were left in a match.

Mama took a large sip and shifted his gaze to Omi and Ish As far as he was concerned I did not exist.

What did you want to invite us for Mama?' Omi said.

He lifted the red velvet cloth and unwrapped a three-foot-long bra.s.s trishul. Its sharp blades glinted under the shop's tubelight.

'It's beautiful. Where did you get it from?' Omi queried.

'It is a gift from Parekh-ji. He said in me he sees the party's future. I worked day and night. We visited every district in Gujarat. He said, "if we have more people like Bittoo, people will be proud to be Hindu again." He made me the recruitment in-charge for young people in Ahmedabad.'

Ish and I looked at Omi for footnotes.

'Parekh-ji is a senior Hindu party leader. And he heads the biggest temple trust in Baroda,' Omi said. 'What, he knows the CM or something, Mama?'

'Parekh-ji not only knows the CM, but also talks to him twice a day,' Bittoo Mama said. 'And I told Parekh-ji about you, Omi. I see in you the potential to teach Hindu pride to young people.'

'But Mama, I'm working full time...'

'I am not telling you to leave everything. But get in touch with the greater responsibilities we have. We are not just priests who speak memorised lines at ceremonies. We have to make sure India's future generation understands Hindutva properly. I want to invite you to a grand feast to Parekh-ji's house. You should come too, Ish. Next Monday in Gandhinagar.'

Of course, blasphemous me got no invitation.

'Thanks, Mama. It sounds great, but I don't know if we can,' Ish said. How come some people are so good at being polite. 'Why? Don't worry, it is not just priests. Many young, working people will also come.'

'I don't like politics,' Ish said.

'Huh? This isn't politics, son. This is a way of life.'

'I will come,' Omi said.

'But you should come too, Ish. We need young blood.'

Ish stayed hesitant.

'Oh, you think Parekh-ji is some old, traditional man who will force you to read scriptures. Do you know where Parekh-ji went to college? Cambridge, and then Harvard. He had a big hotel business in America, which he sold and came back.

He talks your language. Oh, and he used to play cricket too, for the Cambridge college team.'

'I will come if Govind comes,' said Ish the idiot.

Mama looked at me. In his eyes, I was the reason why Hindu culture had deteriorated lately.

'Well, I came to invite the three of you in the first place. He only said he doesn't believe in G.o.d.'

'I didn't say that,' I said. Oh, forget it, I thought.

'Then come.' Mama stood up. 'All three of you. I'll give Omi the address. It is the grandest house in Gandhinagar.'

People called me Mr Accounts; greedy, miser, anything. But the fact is, I did organise an all-expense-paid booze party to motivate my partners at the shop. It is b.l.o.o.d.y hard to get alcohol in Ahmedabad, let alone bulky bottles of beer. One of my contacts - Romy Bhai - agreed to supply a crate of extra strong beer for a thousand bucks.

At 7 p.m. on the day of the party, Romi Bhai left the beer -wrapped in rags - at the SBI compound entrance. I came to the gate and gave Romi Bhai the day's newspaper. On the third page of the newspaper, I had stapled ten hundred-rupee notes. He nodded and left.

I dragged the cloth package inside and placed the bottles in the three ice-filled buckets I had kept in the kitchen. I took out the bottle opener from the kitchen shelf, where we kept everything from Maggi noodles to boxes of crackers to burst when India won a match.

Another person may see the abandoned SBI branch as an eerie party venue.

This used to be an old man's haveli. The owner could not repay and the bank foreclosed the property. Thereafter, the bank opened a branch in the haveli. The owner's family filed a lawsuit after he died. The dispute still unresolved, the family obtained a court injunction that the bank could not use the property for profit. Meanwhile, SBI realised that a tiny by lane in Belrampur was a terrible branch location. They vacated the premises and gave the keys to the court. The court official kept a key with Omi's dad, a trustworthy man in the area. This was done in case officials needed to view it and the court was closed. Of course, no one ever came and Omi had access to the keys.

The property was a six-hundred square yard plot, huge by Belrampur standards. The front entrance directly opened into the living room, now an abandoned bank customer service area. The three bedrooms on the first floor were the branch manager's office, the data room and the locker room. The branch manager's office had a giant six-feet vault. We kept our cricket kit in the otherwise empty safe.

We hung out most in the haveli's backyard. In its prime, it was the lawn of a rich family. As part of the bank branch, it was an under-utilised parking lot and now, our practice pitch.

I rotated the beer bottles in the ice bucket to make them equally cold.

Ish walked into the bank.

'So late,' I said. 'It is 8.30.'

'Sorry, watching cricket highlights. Wow, strong beer,' Ish said as he picked up a bottle. We had parked ourselves on the sofas in the old customer waiting area downstairs. I reclined on the sofa. Ish went to the kitchen to get some bhujia.

'Omi here?' Ish said as he opened the packet.

'No, I am the only fool. I take delivery, clean up the place and wait for my lords to arrive.'

'Partners, man, partners,' Ish corrected. 'Should we open a bottle?'

'No, wait.'

Omi arrived in ten minutes. He made apologies about his dad holding him back to clean the temple. Omi then prayed for forgiveness before drinking alcohol.

'Cheers!' all of us said as we took a big sip. It was bitter, and tasted only slightly better than phenyl.

"What is this? Is this genuine stuff?' Ish asked.

We paused for a moment. Spurious alcohol is a real issue in Ahmedabad.

'Nah, n.o.body makes fake beer. It is just strong,' I said.

If you filled your mouth with bhujia, the beer did not taste half as bad. In fact, the taste improved considerably after half a bottle. As did everyone's mood.

'I want to see this Ali kid. Three customers have mentioned him,' Ish said.

'The Muslim boy?' Omi said.

'Stop talking like your Mama?' Ish scolded. 'Is that relevant? They say he has excellent timing.'

'Where does he play?' I enquired through a mouthful of bhujia.

'In our school. Kids say his most common shot is a six.' 'Let's go check him out. Looks like the school has your worthy successor,' 1 said.

Ish turned silent. It was a sensitive topic and if it was not for the beer, I would not have said it.

'Succeeding Ish is hard,' Omi said. 'Remember the hundred against Mahip Munic.i.p.al School, in sixty-three b.a.l.l.s? No one forgets that innings.' Omi stood up and patted Ish's back again, as if the ten-year-old match had ended minutes ago.

'No one forgets the two ducks in the state selection trials either,' Ish said and paused again.

'Screw that, you were out of form, man,' Omi said.

'But those are the matches that f.u.c.king mattered, right? Now can we flip the topic?'

Omi backed off and I gladly changed the subject. 'I think we should thank our sponsors for tonight - The Team India Cricket Shop. In seven months of operation, our profit is 42,600 rupees. Of which, we have distributed 18,000 to the partners and 22,000 is for the Navrangpura shop deposit. And the remaining 2,600 is for entertainment like tonight. So, thank you, dear shareholders and partners, and let's say cheers to the second bottle.'

I took out the second bottle for each of us from the ice bucket. 'Stud-boy,' Ish slurred, standing up, 'This business and its profit is all owed to Stud-boy, Mr Govind Patel. Thank you, buddy. Because of you this dropout military cadet has a future. And so does this fool who'd be otherwise jingling bells in the temple all his life. Give me a hug, Stud-boy.'

He came forward to give me a hug. It was drunk affection, but genuine enough.

'Will you do me one more favour buddy?' Ish said.

'What?'

'There is someone who wants maths tuitions,' Ish said.

'No, I am full, Ish. Seven students already...,' I said as Ish interrupted me. 'It is Vidya.' 'Your sister?'

'She finished Cla.s.s XII. She is dropping a year now to prepare for the medical entrance.'

'You don't need maths to become a doctor.'

'No, but the entrance exams do. And she is awful at it. You are the best man, who else can I trust?'

'If it is your sister, then I mean...,' I took a breath. 'Wow, Vidya to join medical college? Is she that old now?'

'Almost eighteen, dude.'

'I teach younger kids though, cla.s.s five to eight. Her course is more advanced. I am not in touch.'

'But you got a f.u.c.king century in that subject, dude. Just try she needs any help she can get.'

I said nothing for a while, trying to remember what I knew of Vidya, which was little.

'What are you thinking. Oh, I know, Mr Accounts. Don't worry we will pay you,'

Ish said and took a big sip.

'Shut up, man. It is for your sister. Ok, I'll do it. When do we start?'

'Can you start Monday ... no Monday is Parekh-ji's feast. d.a.m.n, Omi what the f.u.c.k are we going to do there?'

'The things we do to keep your Mama happy.' I couldn't wait to move to Navrangpura.

'Parekh ji is supposed to be a great man,' Omi said. 'And I always listen to you guys. Come for me this time.'

'Anyway, Tuesday then,' I said to Ish. 'So is she going to come to the bank?'

'Dad will never send her out alone. You come home.'