Mama ran towards Ali. I knew I had to get out of the captor’s grip, grab Ali and pull him to my side. I got ready to move. However, I looked at Mama. The sight of his huge frame and a sharp weapon sent a fear inside me. And I wasted precious time thinking when I should have acted. Ish and I exchanged another glance and he saw my fear mixed with self-interest. What if the trishul ends in my stomach? The what-ifs made me hesitant, but I snapped myself out of it and made a dive to my left. I grabbed Ali and pulled him towards me. Mama struck, but missed Ali’s torso. One blade of the trishul jabbed Ali’s wrist. Ali would have been completely unhurt only if I had dived a second earlier. And here it was, something I didn’t realise then, the one second delay being the third big mistake of my life.
Of course, I didn’t know I had made a mistake then.
Ish did exactly as I thought, and banged his head against the captor’s to set himself free. It would have hurt Ish, but I think Ish was beyond pain right now. Ish took his captor’s trishul and struck it into the man’s heart. The man screamed once and turned silent.
Ish ran to us.
‘He’s ok, he is ok,’ I said turning to Ish. I held Ali tight within me in an embryo position.
There were two captors left and Mama. We did not want to kill anyone.
‘We just want to go away,’ Ish said as he held his trishul, facing Mama. Mama had a trishul too. Their eyes met. Mama’s men watched the impending duel. I ran with Ali to the other end of the room. The men came running after us.
‘Stop you bastards,’ the men said as we reached the end of the room. One of the men went and bolted the door.
Ali lifted a bat from the floor. I picked one too, though not sure if I could really fight right now.
Ali winced as his right wrist hurt when he lifted the bat.
‘Heh? Want to fight?’ the two captors said.
Mama and Ish were still in their face off. Each had a stern gaze. Mama rotated his trishul in his hand.
One of the men turned to go back to Mama.
‘I’ll take care of him, you finish the boy Mama,’ he said.
‘Sure,’ Mama said as he moved away. As he left, Mama struck his trishul at Ish’s toes. Ish didn’t expect it. He lost his balance and fell down next to the manager’s desk.
‘You are fucking weak, you know that,’ Ish said.
‘I can finish you now. Thank your stars you were born in a Hindu house,’ Mama said as he spat on Ish’s face. Mama came to Ali.
‘Oh, you want to play eh? You want to play bat ball with me,’ Mama said and laughed as Ali held up his bat.
‘Move away,’ Mama said to his men, ‘the boy wants to play. Yeah, you son of a whore, play with me,’ Mama said as he danced around Ali, just out of the striking distance of Ali’s bat.
Ali pranced around as he stumbled on two cricket balls kept on the floor. Mama picked one up.
‘You want me to bowl? Eh? Play bat ball?’ Mama said and laughed, ‘one last ball before you die?’
Mama tossed the ball in his hands.
‘Yeah, bowl to me,’ Ali said.
‘Oh really?’ Mama said and laughed.
Another ball lay next to Ali’s foot. Ali brushed the ball with his feet towards Ish. The ball rolled to Ish. Ish sat on the floor leaning against the manager’s table. His toes whooshed out blood and he couldn’t get up.
‘Don’t come near me,’ Ali said to Mama.
‘Oh, I am so scared of the bat ball,’ Mama said and pretended to shiver in jest. He tossed the ball in one hand and held the trishul in the other.
Ish picked up the ball slowly. Ali’s eyes met with Ish. Ali gave the briefest nod possible.
Ish lifted the ball in his hand. The captor noticed but didn’t react. Ish threw the ball towards Ali with all his strength.
Slam! Ali struck the ball with the bat. He had one shot, and he didn’t miss it. The ball hit Mama’s temple hard. Mama released the ball in his hand to hold his head. The ball fell on the floor and Ali kicked it to Ish. Ish threw it again, Ali connected and slam! The ball hit the centre of Mama’s forehead.
Ali’s shots were powerful enough to get balls out of stadiums. At five feet range, they hit Mama like exploding bricks. Mama fell down. His trishul fell on the floor. Ish used it as a stick to get up. The captors ran towards Mama. Ish came from behind and stabbed one in his neck. The other captor saw the blood gush out, the killer look in Ish’s eyes. He opened the bolt and was out of sight in ten seconds.
Ali kneeled down on the floor. He held his right wrist with his left hand.
‘Oh my God,’ Ali said, more in pain than surprise at what he had done.
Mama lay on the ground. His temple had burst. Internal bleeding had made his forehead dark and swollen. He barely moved. Nobody wanted to go close to check his breath. His eyes shut after five minutes and I checked his pulse.
‘It’s stopped. I think he’s dead,’ I said. I had become an expert in dead bodies.
Ish’s arms wrapped around Ali.
‘It’s hurting a lot Ish bhaiya. Take me home,’ Ali said. His body still trembled in fear.
‘C’mon move that wrist. Ali, you need that wrist, keep it alive,’ Ish said. He hobbled towards the door to leave. He used a trishul as his walking stick.
‘We saved him, Ish we saved him,’ I said as I shook Ish’s shoulders from behind.
Ish stopped. He turned to me. He didn’t give me a dirty look, but something worse than that. He gave me the look of indifference. Sure, I had let him down for lots of reasons. But why was he behaving like Who was I? Like he had nothing whatsoever to do with me. Ish turned and started to walk.
‘Hey Ish, wait for me. I’ll help you open the door’ I said. I reached the door.
Ish hand gestured me to get out of the way.
‘Ish, c’mon Ish, he is alive. We, we did it,’ I said.
Ish didn’t say anything. He left me like I was one of the dead bodies and walked out.
Epilogue
The heart rate monitor beeped fast. Govind’s pulse had crossed 130 beats a minute.
The nurse came running inside.
‘What did you do?’ she said.
‘I am fine. Just chatting,’ Govind said. He sat up a little on the bed.
‘Don’t make him exert himself.’ The nurse wagged her finger at me. I nodded and she left the room.
‘And from that day, exactly three years, two months and one week ago, Ish has not spoken to me again. Everytime I try speaking to him he snubs me.’ Govind ended his story.
I gave him a glass of water as his voice faltered.
‘So what happened in the three years – to the shop, to Vidya, to Ali?’ I asked.
He turned his gaze down and played with the heart rate monitor wire attached on his chest. He swallowed a couple of times to keep his composure.
I did not prod further. If he wanted to tell me, he would. I checked the time, it was five in the morning. I stepped outside the room. The early morning sunlight filled the hospital corridors. I asked someone where to get tea from. He pointed me to the canteen.
I came back with two cups. Govind refused as he wasn’t allowed one after a stomach wash. He didn’t make eye contact.
‘I need to find the Singapore Airlines phone number. I have to confirm my return trip,’ I said, to change his mood.
‘Omi’s parents,’ Govind said, his gaze and voice both low. ‘I can’t tell you how … destroyed they were. For weeks, the temple had visitors from the neighbourhood and the only prayers were for Omi, Dhiraj and Mama. At the funerals, Omi’s father cried as five thousand people descended from all over Ahmedabad. Omi’s mother became ill after not eating for a week. She had to be in the hospital for a month.’
I debated whether to place my hand on Govind’s hand lying pale on the covers.
‘I didn’t go to the shop for two months. I tried to contact Ish, but … If I went to meet him, he’d shut the door on my face.’
‘Did you speak to Vidya?’
; Govind shook his head. ‘Speaking to Vidya was out of question. They put her under house arrest. Her dad slammed her mobile phone to pieces. The TV channels moved on after the Godhra news and the riots. But my life collapsed. I lived through all that. I didn’t pop pills then. Don’t think I am not strong … just because I am here today.’ He paused. ‘Three months after the incident, Omi’s mother came home. She told me to reopen the shop. Omi had told her it was his favourite place in the world. Mama was gone, so the shop belonged to Omi’s mother now. And she wanted to give it to us to keep the memory of her son alive.’
‘So did you agree?’
‘Initially, I couldn’t meet her eye. The guilt … of letting Omi die, of my part in Mama’s death, of celebrating Mama’s death. But she knew nothing of my nightmares and I had to make a living anyway. The business was losing money. We had defaulted many supply contracts. So I came back to the shop. Ish told Omi’s mother he would come, too, but didn’t want anything to do with me. Omi’s mother wanted us both, so there was only one solution.’
‘What?’
‘We split the shop into two. We put a plywood wall right in the middle. Ish took the right side and continued the sports shop. I took the left and turned my portion into a student stationery and textbook store. His customers often came to my store and vice versa. We offered studies and sports at the same place but we never, not once, spoke. Not even when India reached the finals in the 2003 World Cup. Ish watches matches alone now, and never jumps at a six.’
‘Did you ever contact Vidya again? And what happened to Ali?’ I realised I was asking more questions than offering support. But I had to know.
‘They sent Vidya to Bombay, to do a PR course. That was the one positive thing for her. They wanted her away from me, medical college or not. So Vidya did get to fly out of her cage. She had instructions to never speak to me again. However, she loves breaking rules and did try to contact me a couple of times from there. But this time I never replied. I couldn’t do it … I saw her brother everyday. All I wanted to do was make as much money as possible and save it for Ali.’
‘To bring him up?’ I said and took a sip from my cup. Why does hospital tea taste like Dettol?
‘Ali stays in Ish’s house now, so he will be brought up well anyway. But we need the money for his wrist operation. A lot of money,’ Govind said.
The nurse came to the room for the morning checkup. Govind requested he wanted to use the toilet. The nurse agreed and took off the drips and monitor cords attached to him.
I waited anxiously for ten minutes, my mind riven with doubts about his stability, when he returned.
‘What kind of operation?’ I asked.
‘Ali’s wrist is damaged. That means his ability to turn the bat at the right time is gone. I saved his life, but my one second of delay cost him his gift. I told you, that delay was the third mistake of my life.’
‘You did your best. It was a moment’s delay,’ I reassured.
‘But a conscious moment. I was selfish. Like I was with my ambition when I wanted to make the mall, or when I was with Vidya. They are right, you know. I am not a businessman, I am a selfish bastard,’ he said and paused before speaking again.
‘He needs reconstructive surgery. The trishul gouged out some of the muscle from the wrist. So doctors have to cut up a piece of muscle from the thigh and attach it to the wrist. Then, they have to hope that it works. It isn’t a synthetic skin graft, but a muscle transfer. It only happens abroad. And it costs a bomb.’
‘How much?’
‘Don’t even talk about the full price. Ish wrote to every big hospital in the UK and USA for subsidies. The best deal he has is from a hospital in UK, which has promised us an operation for five lakhs. Of course, Ish never told me all this. That is all I could hear from the thin plywood wall.’
‘You have the money?’
‘Ish saved two lakhs in the past three years. I saved another three. Last week I went to him with the money. I said let’s pool our resources and get Ali operated. I said we must act now as it takes nine months to get an appointment at that hospital anyway. And then he…,’ Govind’s voice choked again.
‘You ok?’ I said.
Govind nodded. ‘You know what he did? He refused to touch my money and wore cricket gloves while handing the envelope back to me. In fact, he offered me his cashbox and said he could give me money if I needed it to satisfy my greed. He said he didn’t want to get Ali operated with a dishonest man’s money.’
Govind voice began to break. ‘I am not dishonest. I’m selfish and have made mistakes, but I’m not dishonest. And I don’t only care about money. I care about Ali, too.’
I sat on his bed put my hand on his arm. He pulled it away.
‘After three years of saving every rupee I could, Ish calls my labour dishonest. I can’t take it anymore. Dr Verma had given me pills as I had trouble sleeping at night. That day I felt why not sleep once and for all. Maybe I had calculated life all wrong. It was time to quit the equation.’ He smiled feebly.
The doctor came to Govind’s ward at 7 a.m. The chemicals from the pills had been flushed out of Govind’s system.
‘I’d like the patient to sleep for six hours,’ the doctor told me as he drew the curtains.
I left the room and went out. Govind’s mother sat on a bench in the corridor. She looked up, worried.
‘He is fine, just needs some rest.’ I sat next to her on the bench.
‘Such a brave boy I had. What happened to him?’ she sighed.
‘He thought he was being brave,’ I said. ‘Does Ish know?’
She looked at me sideways. ‘They don’t talk.’
‘Can you tell him what happened. Don’t force him to come to the hospital,’ I said.
Govind’s mother nodded. We left the hospital together. She had sat in an auto when I spoke again. ‘By the way, do you know which college Vidya goes to in Bombay?’
‘So many visitors? This is a hospital, not a club,’ the nurse grumbled as she changed Govind’s bedsheets in the evening.
Govind’s hospital room was bustling with people. Apart from the nurse, there were Ish, Vidya, Govind’s mother and I. We waited for Mr Sleepyhead to wake up from his second nap of the day. A lot of people had lost sleep because of his sleeping pills.
Govind’s eyelashes flickered and everyone moved closer to the bed.
‘Ish? Vidya!’ Govind blinked.
‘There are better ways to attract attention,’ Vidya said.
‘When did you come?’ Govind asked, quite forgetting the others.
‘I left my marketing class halfway,’ Vidya said. ‘But that doesn’t mean I forgive you for not replying to me. Or for popping these pills. I never popped anything even when I was most scared, you know when.’
‘Your parents told you not to speak to me again. Ish wanted the same.’
‘So?’ Vidya removed her college bag from her shoulder and placed it on the bed. ‘What did your heart want?’
Ish stood silent, looking at Govind. Govind’s mother looked shocked, probably dreading a firecracker of a daughter-in-law like Vidya someday.
‘I am sorry, Ish. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I l … loved her,’ Govind said.
Ish began to walk out of the room. Govind’s mother went after him and pulled his arm. She placed Ish’s hand on Govind’s.
‘You don’t have to listen to parents, but I do think you should be friends again,’ Govind’s mother said.
Ish remained silent. Govind clasped Ish’s hand. Govind’s mother continued:
‘Life will have many setbacks. People close to you will hurt you. But you don’t break it off. You don’t hurt them more. You try to heal it. It is a lesson not only you, but our country needs to learn.’
‘Remember the kissing chimpanzees?’ Govind called after him.
Ish stopped and looked back at Govind.
‘Take the money for Ali. For me, it’s no longer just for the money. But what the money is for. Get Ali all r
ight, it is important to me, too.’
Ish sniffed hard as he tried to resist tears.
‘Can you forgive me, three times over?’ Govind said.
Both Govind’s and Ish’s eyes turned moist.
‘Aunty, isn’t it strange that all the men in the ward are crying while the women are like, so, together?’ Vidya said.
Govind’s mother looked horrified. Confident women make terrible daughters-in-law.
I met Govind the next morning, right before I left for the airport. Govind was due for discharge that evening.
‘Thanks,’ he said emotionally.
‘For what?’
‘For dropping by. I don’t know how I will ever repay you…’
‘Actually, there is a way.’
Govind waited.
‘Your story, it needs to be shared.’
‘Like a book?’
‘Yes, exactly a book. My third book. Will you help me?’
‘I don’t know. I only like stories with happy endings,’ he said.
‘You have a pretty happy ending.’
‘I don’t know yet about Ali. We are going for the operation, but the success probability is not hundred per cent. Fifty-fifty is what they told us.’
‘You should have faith. Probability is best left to books,’ I said.
He nodded.
‘So I’ll go back and we’ll be in touch over email,’ I said.
‘Sure, we can work on it. But do not release the story until we know about Ali. Ok? It may mean your effort goes to waste,’ he said.
‘I agree,’ I said and we shook hands.
I met Vidya at the hospital entrance as I left. She was wearing a green lehanga, probably her most cheerful dress, to lift Govind’s spirits. She carried a bouquet.
‘Nice roses,’ I said.
‘Law Garden has the best ones. I miss Ahmedabad, can’t wait for my course to be over in six months,’ she said.
‘I thought you were a Bombay girl, trapped in the small city or whatever.’
The 3 Mistakes of My Life Page 22