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Authors: Chetan Bhagat

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BOOK: The 3 Mistakes Of My Life
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Sunlight hit the room for the first time in years. Two rats scurried across on

unsteady legs. We navigated our way through empty gunnybags, stacks of bricks

and abandoned masonry.

'It will take weeks to organise this. Omi, we will need six lights on the ceiling,' I

said.

'It's fifteen feet by fifteen feet. A good size,' Mama said.

'Mama, what rent do you want for this?' I said.

I had decided to go into wholesale business. I was quite certain that the recent

cricket series would increase demand bigtime. As long as I could secure goods on

credit, I could make money.

'Nonsense. A father does not take rent from his son,' Mama said.

I hated such form of benevolence. I had estimated the godown's rent as half of

the shop. It had no frontage to make it suitable for retail.

'And speaking of sons, I want you to meet my son today,' Mama said and

shouted.'Dhiraj! Dhiraj!' Dhiraj, Mama's fourteen-year-old son, came running

from the temple compound. His Spiderman T-shirt and jeans contrasted with the

plate of vermillion and saffron paste that he was carrying in his hand.

'Baba, here you are. Let me put the tilak,' Dhiraj said.

Dhiraj put a tilak on Mama's forehead. 'Meet your brothers, Mama said.

'Govind, Ishaan and, of course, Omi.'

'Hi,' I said.

'The cricket shop owners. I love cricket,' the boy said in a voice that had just

broken into adolescence.

'So young, yet he helps me with my campaign after school,' Mama said with

pride in his voice. 'Two trips to Ayodhya already. Put tilak on your brothers, son.'

Dhiraj put tilak on our foreheads too. 'I have to finish puja. Ish bhaiya, you

have to give me cricket tips someday'

'Sure, run along,' Mama said.

We came out of the godown. Mama bolted the door.

'How is it going, Mama? You need me?' Omi said.

'Flections are only six months away. In a few months, the rallies will start. I

have to show Parekh-ji what a brilliant job I can do.'

I took out ten one-hundred-rupee notes and placed them in Mama's hand.

'Rent for the godown, Mama,' I said.

'Leave it no,' he said.

'Don't say no, Mama. 1 am already obligated to you. Business is looking up. We

will repay your loan soon, too,' 1 said. 

'Hello, Pandit-ji? Can you hear me?' 1 said. 1 received a call from Pandit-ji a

month alter 1 had opened the godown. The temple bells made it hard to talk and I

had to strain my ears to hear his voice on the horrible line.

'I have had enough, Govind. I want to marry my daughters off and go back to

my Kashmir.'

'I know Pandit-ji,' I said. He had told me this story a dozen nines.

'Yes, but last week a nice family came to our house. They have two sons, both

based in London. They will take both my daughters. Want to do it as early as

possible.'

in one ceremony?'

'Yes, imagine the saving. But if it is one ceremony, they want it in style. I have

sold the godown, but I need a buyer for the

goods.'

'How much is the stock worth?'

'Two lakhs of sale value. Of which retailers like you took twenty per cent

margin, and 1 kept another ten per cent. The true cost is a
round one lakh forty

thousand.'

'I'll take it for one lakh,' I said on impulse. Ish and Omi looked it me in

surprise. What crazy scheme was I up to now?

'One lakh forty is the cost, and now you want to buy it off me at a loss?'

i am buying everything.'

'Give me the money by next month, you can take it for one ten,' Pandit-ji said.

I said one lakh. No more.' I said in a firm voice.

'When can you take the stock? The godown buyer needs possession fast,'

Pandit-ji said.

'Today,' I said.

When I told Ish and Omi about the deal later, worry lines crisscrossed their

foreheads. I saw a gold-mine trade. India had performed great in the recent

series. The summer vacations would start in a few weeks. If I sold it all, I could

double my money.

'You know what you are doing, right?' Ish was doubtful.

I looked at him. My risks had let him down before. Yet, you can't do business

without taking bets.

'Yes, I do. Do you trust me?'

'Of course,' he said. 'But his daughter is gone.'

'What?' I said, puzzled.

'You had a thing for her,' Ish reminded me.

'Oh,' I said and looked away. You have no idea who has a thing for whom

buddy, I thought.


Business exploded in the next three months. Every Indian kid played cricket in

May and June. Experts had called the India-Australia series historic. The actual

matches had taken place during the exams. The pent-up cricket fix came out

properly only in the vacations.

'Is this how Harbhajan grips the ball?' a seven-year-old tried to fit the cricket

ball into his tiny fist.

'Laxman and my batting styles are identical,' said another boy in the park.

Customers at the temple shop tripled. Our wholesale business fared even

better. Retailers never stopped calling.

'What? Pandit-ji is going back to Kashmir? Anyway, two boxes of balls in City

Mall sports shop?' said one.

'I've taken over Pandit-ji's business. Call us, we deliver in two hours,' I told

another large shop in Satellite.

'No, cash down only. Ahmedabad has no quality stock. You want now, pay

now,' 1 said to a credit seeker.

I kept track of cash, Omi did deliveries, while Ish manned the shop. When

schools reopened, he also looked after the monthly supply business. We now

supplied to four schools. It took a national holiday on 15 August for us to have a

quiet day at the shop.

'We should have kept kites. Look at the sky, that's easy money,' 1 said as I

counted cash.

'Hurry up with the accounts,' Omi said. 'Mama wants us there by four.'

Mama had planned his rally on Independence Day, the same day as Ali's dad

had planned a speech for his party's candidate. What's more, both the rallies took

place at the same venue, at the opposite ends of Nana Park.

'We will get there by four. But guess what's our profit for the last four months,'

I faced the two.

Both shrugged.

'Seventy thousand,' I said.

'Seventy what?' Ish said.

'That's right. Out of which forty thousand will be used to repay our loans. The

remaining thirty is ours,' I said and passed on a bundle of notes to each of them.

'Who decides how to cut this money?' Ish said.

'I do, any problem?' I said and realised I had come across too firm.

'Nope. So, how many loans do we have left?'

'Only twenty thousand more, if you count the interest. We will repay all by the

end of the year,' I said and locked the safe. I kept the key in my shirt pocket. I

stood up to do a stock inventory in the godown.

'Hey, Govind,' Ish said as he pulled my arm down. 'What?'

'Australia,' he said.

'C'mon, we have discussed it. Yes, it was nice to meet Fred and Ali is good. Just

the visas cost three thousand each.'

'Fred is giving the tickets,' Ish said.

'But we will still spend a lot. I'd imagine at least ten thousand a head, or forty

thousand for the four of us,' I said. I wanted to go as well, but I couldn't afford to

spend so much on a junket.

'Here is my ten,' Ish said and tossed the bundle back to me, 'My contribution to

the Australia fund.'

I looked at Ish and Omi. These guys are nuts. Super nuts.

'Take this money home and toss the bundle at your dad. You need to.'

'Dad is only going to find another reason to curse me,' Ish said.

'Here's mine.' Omi tossed in his bundle, too. 'C'mon Omi,' I said.

'I don't work for money. I'm with you guys and don't have to be a priest. That's

good enough for me.'

'Well then let's save it for the business and...,' I was interrupted immediately.

'No, this money is for Australia only'

'Just when the business was looking up! Oh well,' I said and tossed my bundle

too.

'There you go,' Ish said, 'we've got thirty grand done. Now if only you don't pay

the loan this time.'

'No way Ish. The loan has to be repaid.'

'We will repay it - later,' Ish said.

ish, you don't listen. What if the other expenses end up higher?'

'We will spend as little as possible. We'll take enough theplas and khakras to

eat for the stay. Fred will arrange the stay. Think about it man, the Australian

cricket team,' Ish said.

I sat down and sighed. My financially clueless partners looked at me like kids

waiting for candy.

'All right. Who is the bloody travel agent, let me
bargain with him,
'
I said.

'Yes, here we go,' Ish said as he dialled the agent's number. 'One week, I can't

leave the business anymore and everyday will be expensive there,' I said as I took

the phone. Omi disconnected the phone. 'Later, let's go to Nana Park now,' Omi

said.


Twice. They dug up the Ayodhya site twice.' Mama raised two lingers.

His voice echoed, more due to the poor quality of loudspeakers than the impact

of his words. Ish and I sat at one end of the first row. Omi stood on stage. He felt

important wearing a party badge, though he only had an errand-boy status. His

responsibilities included placing mineral water bottles for everyone sitting on the

stage.

Mama had done a good job of publicity. Two hundred people had shown up,

not bad for a neighbourhood gathering. The candidate, Hasmukh-ji, a veteran of

state politics and a longtime associate of Parekh-ji, sat centrestage. Mama was

enjoying his five minutes of mike fame before Hasmukh-ji's speech.

'As far back as 1978, ASI, the government's own entity, found temple evidence.

But the secular government hid it. Then in 1992, our dear kar sevaks were

pushed into breaking the structure. And they found something.'

Ish started cracking knuckles, punctuating Mama's words.

'They found a Hari-Vishnu inscription that established without doubt that

there was a temple in the past. But the secular party buries that news, too. The

focus shifts to the kar sevaks as vandals. But what about that evidence? Can a

Hindu in India demand justice or not? Where should we go? To America?'

Everyone applauded as Mama left the stage. Mama had candidate potential, I

thought.

Hasmukh-ji came to the mike. He requested everyone to close their eyes to say

the Gayatri Mantra, thrice. It always worked. The crowd became involved. They

liked Hasmukh-ji before he had spoken a word.

Omi stepped off the stage and came to me. 'Govind, Mama wants you to spy on

Ali's dad's rally. And Ish, can you come backstage, the snacks need to be

distributed.'

'But why?' I was bewildered.

'You promised to help Mama, remember?' Omi said, his silk badge fluttering in

the breeze.

I walked over to the other end of the park, to the other rally, The decorations

here were less saffron and more white.

'Gujarat is a place of intelligent people,' Ali's dad was speaking, 'who know

politics and religion are separate.'

I took a seat in the last row and eyeballed the crowd. Unlike Mama's hundred

per cent Hindu, this was more of a mixed bunch, If the secular party was so pro-

Muslim as Mama suggested, why were so many Hindus sitting here?

'The gods we pray to, stayed away from politics in their time. If we truly want to

follow our gods, we must keep our religion separate from politics. Religion is

private, politics public,' Ali's dad said.

'You a party member?' someone asked me. I shook my head. I guessed he was

Hindu.

'How about you?' I said.

'Yes, tor generations,' he said.

Ali's father invited the main candidate, Ghulam Zian, on stage.

As the septuagenarian began to talk, the microphones turned silent and the

pedestal fans conked off. Murmurs ran along the crowd. Was it a power failure?

No, as the event had its own generators.

it's sabotage. The Hindu party did it,' said one person in the crowd. Tension

filled the air. People talked about raiding the Hindu rally.

'Let's teach those guys a lesson,' a muscular man led the pack and lifted his

chair. I wondered if I should run back and warn Mama.

'It's back. Ladies and gentlemen, please sit down. The power is back,' Ali's

father came to the stage with folded hands. The fans whirred again.

1 remembered the kissing chimpanzees and reconciliation mechanisms. But

right now, there were no kisses. Only chairs that could be thrown everytime the

power went off.

I stepped outside. I called a travel agent. 'We want to apply for four passports

and visas to Australia. And don't give me a crazy price.'

I returned to Ghulam Zian's speech. Ali's dad spotted me and came over,

inaayat, Govind bhai. What brings you here? Welcome, welcome.'

'You speak well. You know Ish's plans to take Ali to Australia?' I said.

BOOK: The 3 Mistakes Of My Life
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