Three Mistakes of My Life by Chetan Bhagat

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apology ready - probably stage-managed by his mother. He touched Ish's feet and
said sorry for insulting his guru. Ish hugged him and Have the gifts. Ish said he'd
cut off his hand rather than hit him again. All too melodramatic if you ask me.
The point was Ali came back, this time more serious, and Ish mellowed
somewhat. Ali's cricket improved, and other students suggested we take him to
the district trials.
Ish vetoed the idea. 'No way, the selection people will destroy him. If they reject
him, he is going to be disappointed forever. If they accept him, they will make him
play useless matches for several years. He will go for selections, but only the big
one - the national team.'
'Really? You confident he will make it,' Omi said, passing us lassi in steel
glasses after practice.
'He will be a player like India never had,' Ish announced. It sounded a bit mad,
but we had seen Ali demolish the best of bowlers, even if for a few balls. Two more
years and Ish could well be right.
'Don't talk about Ali's gift at all. I don't trust anyone.' Ish wiped his lassi
moustache.

'Excuses don't clear exams, Vidya. If you study this, it will help. Nothing else
will.' I opened the chemistry book again.
'I tried,' she said and pushed back her open hair. She had not bathed. She had
a track pant on that I think she had been wearing since she was thirteen and a
pink T-shirt that said 'fairy queen' or something. How can a grown-up woman
wear something that says 'fairy queen'? How can anyone wear something that
says 'fairy queen'?
'I pray everyday. That should help,' she said.
I didn't know whether to laugh or flip my fuse again at her nonchalance. Maybe
if she didn't look like a cute ragdoll in those clothes, I would have lost my temper
again.
'Don't leave it to God, nothing like reading organic chemistry yourself,' I said.
She nodded and moved her chair, as a bottle fell over on the ground.
'Oops,' she said and bent down.
'What?' I stood up in reflex. It was a bottle of coconut oil, fortunately closed.
'Nothing, I thought I'll oil my hair,' she said and lifted the blue bottle.
I looked at her face. My gaze lasted a quarter second more than necessary.
There is an optimal time for looking at women before it gets counted as a stare. I
had crossed that threshold. Self-consciously she tugged at the T-shirt's neckline
as she sat back up. The tug was totally due to me. I didn't look there at all, but
she thought I did. I felt sick.
'Coconut oil,' I said, probably the dumbest thing to say but it changed the
topic.
'Yes, a bit of organic chemistry for my head. Maybe this will help.'
I flipped the book's pages to see how benzene became oxidised.
'When is your birthday?' she said. '14 March,' I replied. 'Pi Day.' 'What day?'
'Pi Day. You see, Pi approximates to 3.14 so 14 March is the same date. It is
Einstein's birthday, too. Cool, isn't it?'
'A day for Pi? How can you have a day for something so horrible?'

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