avery
(avery)
#1
'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?'
