The 3 Mistakes Of My Life (21 page)

'Legends - that's a good word,' Fred laughed. 'Hope I get there someday.'

'You have a scholarship, too?' I said. Fred nodded.

'You are already a legend, Fred,' Ish said. 'Nah, I'm starting out. And let me tell

you boys, the whole legend bit is far-fetched. You take a bit of talent and mould it

properly, and good stuff happens. In that sense, Australia can create legends.'

'And we can't,' Ish asked.

'Well you could, though right now you rely on talent more than training. You

have a big population, a tiny number of them are born excellent. Like Tendulkar,

or maybe like Ali.'

'Yeah, but,' Ish boxed his left palm with his right, 'imagine what would
happen

if we could have this kind of training in India.'

'Cricket would be finished. India would dominate and teams like us would be

nowhere. At least for now we can call ourselves "legend".' Fred hooked his fingers

around the last word.

Ali did bat the following days. Every bowler went through the shock of being

slammed for sixes. However, Ali kept the showbiz low
and played a steady game.

He crossed fifty runs in a couple of innings. On Friday morning Ali hit the ball for

a defensive shot. The ball didn't go far. Ali decided to stay at the crease.

'Run, it is a single,' Ish urged from the boundary line.

'Run Ali,' Ish said again. Ali looked surprised at the instruction hut ran.

'Faster,' Ish screamed, 'don't sleep.'

Ali ran faster as the fielder returned the ball to the bowler.

'Jump,' Ish said. Ali dived. He made the crease but fell with his full body weight

coming down on his left ankle. As everyone rushed towards him, he lay on the

ground clenching his teeth and holding back tears.

'Oh, get up. No time for drama,' Ish said.

'Easy, mate,' Fred said to Ish and signalled for a physio. Within minutes, a

paramedic arrived and placed an ice pack on Ali's swollen ankle.

'Lucky it is not a fracture or dislocation. Looks like a ligament got some wear,

mate,' the physio said, applying painkillers and wrapping a crepe bandage. Ali

leaned on the physio as he tried to hobble. 'Give the game a rest for two days.

You'll be fine.'

'Don't worry, he'll play in a few hours,' Ish said with a sheepish expression.

Guilt bubbled up his eyes.

'Everyone,' Fred clapped his hands, 'let's sit down.'

We sat down on the pitch around Fred in a circle.

'You are big boys and tough players. You want to give it your all. But I can't

emphasise it enough - respect your body's limits

'I do,' Ish said, feeling compelled to speak, 'but there was a single there. And

that is what we Indians miss. We don't want to dive. We don't want to take risks.'

'The game is not about being macho. You can't get caught up in the moment so

much that you forget.'

'Forget what?' I said.

'Forget that you got one fragile body. Lose it, and you are gone, You must

safeguard it. And Ish, you must protect your student.'

Ish hung his head low.

'I had just started my career when my nasty back almost finished it,' Fred said.

'I'd have been selling suits at a store for the rest of my life, as that is the only job I

could get.'

He added, '1 made the same mistakes, wanting to kill myself for the game I

played that day. But if you want a career, think long term. Yes, passion is

important. But the head has to be clear during the match.'

Ish apologised to Fred later in the locker room. 'I'd never let Ali get hurt.'

'The kid is good. I have a little surprise for him. You leave Sunday evening,

right?'

'Yes, in two days,' Ish said.'Can't believe the week went by so fast.'

'Sunday breakfast is on me. I want you guys to meet someone important.'

★

Bondi beach is so beautiful that it needs a coffee table book of its own. First,

the sky. The Australian sky is a different colour from India. It actually looks the

same as the sky blue colour in paint shops and is so crisp that your eyes hurt.

There is no pollution. The sea is visible for miles. At the shore, the Pacific Ocean

meets the powdery sand to create perfect waves. They are strong enough to surf

on, yet soft enough to make you relax.

But that summer, the nicest part about the beach was its people - those who

were not men. That is, those who were women. Gorgeous and topless. And if

you've never seen a topless woman in your life before, places like this did things

to you.

'There must be a hundred women here," Ish whistled. And each one a

knockout!'

It was true. It was like all the beautiful women in the world emailed each other

and decided to meet at Bondi.

'You want an umbrella?' I said as we parked ourselves at a scenic spot. Six

topless women played Frisbee there.

'Wow, you can actually see their ni ... wow,' Omi pointed out helpfully.

'There are a hundred women here. So we have two hundred breasts to look at,'

I said and was teased for bringing maths everywhere.

Having grown up in a place where sleeveless blouses cause scandals, tops-off is

what an MBA type would call a 'paradigm

shift'.

'I could not play with them. I'd never look at the Frisbee Ish said.

'Check that blonde one, wow, she is massive,' I said. Oh well when in

Disneyland, play.

'This is what heaven must look like. My eyes are tired from not blinking,' Omi

said.

It is funny but the bare-breasts became routine in a few minutes. I guess you

get used to good things fast. I'd much prefer to see one topless woman every day

for hundred days, rather than a hundred at once. I sat down on the sand. Ish and

Omi soon went for a swim in the sea and to see if wet and topless women looked

even hotter wet. Yes, we are a sick bunch.

I noticed a brunette in an umbrella next to me. She wore a shirt on top of her

bikini and had her back to me. Her long black hair fell over her thin back. She

applied something in her half, probably oil or lotion or any such thing that girls

feel is essential to their existence.

Something hurt inside me. I felt like someone pounded my chest. The brunette

rubbed her hair exactly like Vidya. I saw Omi and Ish splashing in the water at a

distance. They laughed as the pushed each other down.

Random thoughts circulated in my head, like oiled fingers in hair. Wouldn't it

be nice if Vidya was here? Isn't this what she longed for most? Freedom above all

else? Didn't she have the Bondi spirit, even though I'd have killed her if she

walked around in a bikini. Wait a minute, I'd kill her or her brother Ish would kill

her? Why should I care? But I did say I would kill her? And why am I thinking of

her when there are so many beautiful topless women to distract me right now?

And why do I think of her every night before I go to bed? And why does my mind

not stop asking stupid questions?

If you began to miss a girl thousands of miles away even with naked breasts

around you, something is seriously wrong. I opened my notebook that I carried

everywhere. I wanted to make a budget for the next three months. I found a long

strand of hair. It didn't belong to Ish or Omi or me. Only one person that I knew

had long hair. The notebook I had opened to forget her made me miss her even

more.

Omi came running to me. Water dripped from him and fell on my legs. I closed

my book.

'The water is amazing. C'mon inside,' he said, catching his breath.

'No, I have work. I have to make a call,' I said. 'Call who?'

'Suppliers,' I said without making eye contact. 'From here? Isn't it expensive?'

'Short call, need some coins,' I said as I collected the change.

'You are working on Bondi? Whatever, I am diving in again,' Omi said and ran

back to the sea.

I collected my belongings and walked back to the beach shopping
area. I found

a public phone.

I dialed her number.

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 you

bore'.
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