That's not what I...'
'Mate, I see a lot of talent. Every AIS scholarship kid has tickets on himself. If I don't break their pride, they will stay hoons for the rest of their life. Sportsmen aren't movie stars, mate. Even though your country treats them like that.'
'But Fred...'
'You Indians have good talent, but the training - trust me on that mate.'
'We are only here for a week,' Ish sounded helpless. 'I'll make the week productive. But today's lesson was important. If he isn't humble, he won't last long,' Fred said, then looked at his watch. 'Promised the missus some time. I'm off like a bride's nightie.'
‘Cheers!’ everyone cried. We clanged our dark brown bottles of XXXX beer, also known as 'fourex' stubbies. 'Hi!' our server Hazel, too hot to be a waitress, hugged Fred. 'Oooh...,' Fred's students egged him on after she left. 'No way, mate. The missus won't tolerate me making eyes at anyone else,' Fred said. 'But you guys are single. You must have pretty girls all over you in India.' Everyone looked at us.
'We don't have girlfriends,' Omi said.
'Why not? Indian women are hot,' said Michael, rolling his
'Too busy with work,' I said.
'Busy? Never heard a bloke too busy to root, mate,' Roger said.
Everyone laughed. Root meant, well, whatever. 'Check those honeys out,'
Michael said as four girls walked
in.
"The one in brown, she's ain't bad,' Michael said. 'NCR 5.'
'NCR 10,' Roger said.
'And the blue one?' Philip said.
'She's NCR 0. Bring it on, man,' Roger said. Everyone laughed.
'What's NCR?' I asked as there was a whiff of maths in the air.
'NCR is Number of Cans Required. The amount of beer yoi need to drink to want to have sex with a girl,' Fred said.
'Michael dated an ugly bitch once. He admits it, NCR 40 Roger said. Everyone roared with laughter.
'Here you go, hungry boys,' Hazel said in a flirtatious tone she passed the plates.
The Australians mainly ate meat dishes. We had stuck to a pizza as it was the only recognisable choice.
'You got to do more protein,' Michael said, his biceps flexing, as he ate.
Omi said, I drink two litres of milk everyday.'
Ish sat next to Fred. I could not hear their conversation However, I saw Ish's frequent nods. I left the Aussie rooting stories and moved to Ish.
'If you're the bowler and you've got the ball in your hand, you're controlling the game. You've got to make sure the batsman know who's the boss,' Fred was saying. 'Same for Ali. He doesn't just need to hit shots, he needs to show the other team who is the boss.' 'Right,' Ish said.
My players will eventually figure out new ways to bowl to Ali. A determined mind can counter a gift. A champion has both.' Ish nodded.
Hi Govind!' Fred had spotted me. 'Don't want rooting tips? We are just doing boring coach talk.'
Ish's chest swelled with pride as Fred had called him equal in role.
I remembered something. 'You mentioned a scholarship yesterday. What's that? In fact, how does the whole sports thing work in Australia.'
'You want to know why Australia always wins?'
it doesn't always win,' Ish said.
'Not always, thank goodness. We love to dominate opponents, hut also love a fight. When there's a challenge, it brings out the
best. '
'Yeah, even if not every time, Australia does win a lot. Every Olympics, there is pile of medals for Australia. In cricket, the domination continues. How come, Fred?' 1 said.
'Plenty of reasons, mate. But it wasn't always like this.' Fred sipped his sparkling water, in fact, in the 1976 Olympic games in Montreal, Australia didn't win a single medal.' 'But you guys did well last year,' Ish said. 'Yes, in Sydney 2000. Australia won 56 medals, only after USA, Russia and China. All these countries have ten times as many people.' He paused. 'Aussies saw the Montreal fiasco as a national shame. So the government set up the Australian Institute of Sports or the AIS and initiated the world's best scholarship programme.' Fred finished his glass of water and continued:
'And today the AIS has hundreds of staff - coaches, doctors and physios. They get two hundred million dollars of funding| and have excellent facilities. And at the heart of it all, they offer seven hundred scholarships a year.' Fred pushed the spaghetti plate towards me.
I listened as I struggled with the ribbon-like pasta. I calculated how seven hundred scholarships for twenty million people would equate to for India. That was the equivalent of thirty-five thousad sports scholarships a year for India to match the ratio.
'What's the scholarship? Money?' Ish wanted to know.
'Not just money, mate. It is full on. Expert coaching accommodation, travel to tournaments, sports science, medicine -you name it. And the best part is to be part of that communit where everyone has a singular commitment to their sport. I can't describe that feeling,' Fred said, as his eyes lit up.
'I know the feeling,' Ish said. Even though Ish's eyes aren't blue. they shone as bright.
The waiters cleared our plates as we finished our food.
'Any famous players from this scholarship programme?'
'Heaps. Michael Bevan, Adam Gilchrist, Justin Langer, Damien Martyn, Glenn McGrath, Ricky Ponting, Andrew Symonds, Shane Warne...'
'What are you talking about? These are all cricketing legends Ish said.
'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 said.
'I came to meet you. Can I borrow a few coins for a Coke. I feel thirsty.'
'Coins are finished. Have some cash left for today, but let's use it to eat lunch.'
'Finished?' Omi said.
'Yeah,' I said, irritated. I don't like it when people less sensible than me question me.
'Who did you call?' Omi said.
'Supplier.'
'Which one?'
'Fuck off Omi, let's go get lunch. Will you get dry first.' 'Vidya?'
I looked at him dumbstruck. What a random guess. And what the hell is his business anyway. 'What?' I said, surprised. 'Don't lie to me.'
'C'mon Omi why would I call Vidya?' 'I'm not that stupid.' 'You are,' I said.
We walked towards the restaurant with me three steps ahead of him.
'I've seen the way you guys look at each other,' he said as he tried to catch up with me.
'Get lost,' I said and walked faster. We came to Campbell Parade, a strip of bars and cafes near the beach.
'And I've noticed. You never talk about her since you started teaching her,' he said.
I went inside 'Hog's Breath Cafe'. After five days in this country the name didn't seem weird anymore.
We sat facing each other. I lifted the menu to cover my face and avoid conversation.
'You can hide if you want. But I know.'
I slid the menu down.
'It's nothing, ok maybe something. But nothing to worry about,' I said.
I hid behind the menu again.
'There is an unspoken rule among Indian men, and you broke it.'
'What rule?' I said and slammed the menu on the table.
'You don't hit upon your best friend's sister. You just don't. It is against the protocol.'
'Protocol? What is this, the army? And I didn't hit on her. She hit upon me,' I said.
'But you let her hit upon you. You let her.' 'Well, it wasn't exactly like being hit.
it didn't hurt. It felt good,' I said.
I played with the toothpicks on the table to avoid eye Contact.
'Fuck man, how far are you guys?'
'What? Hey Omi, go call Ish for lunch. We are here and he has no idea.'
'Yes, he really has no idea,' Omi said and left.
A noisy gang played on the pool table near us. I had five minutes until Ish came back. Thoughts came to me. Will Omi say something stupid to him? No, Omi was not that stupid.
Omi and Ish walked in laughing. Ok, all is good.
'Hog's Breath? Can you think of a worse name for a restaurant?' Ish said and laughed.
‘I can,’ Omi said.
'Don't say it. Anyway, where's the toilet? I have to go siphon the...,' Ish said.
'Over there,' I interrupted him and pointed to the corner. I had enough of Aussies for a lifetime.
'Are you intimate with her?' Omi continued. 'Did you say anything to him?' I said. 'You think I'm stupid?' 'Yeah.'
'I didn't. Now tell me, what stage are you in the relationship?' Omi said.
'Stage?' I said.
'Yes, there is a "we-just-look" stage, the most common stage in the old city.
Then a "we-just-talk" stage. Then a "hold-hand" stage. Then a...'
'It's not like that. It's different between us.'
'Fuck, that's an advanced stage. When you think your relationship is different from any other in this world. Don't do anything stupid ok?'
'Stupid?'
Omi leaned forward to whisper.
'You know stupid. Ish will kill you, or her dad will. Or any man who is related to her will. Remember that guy in the car? Trust me, you don't want to be that boy, or that car.'
'Well, it's nothing really. Just good friends,' I said and looked towards the toilet.
'Just good friends should be a banned phrase. There is nothing more misleading. You are her teacher damn it. And how old is she? Seventeen?'
'Turns eighteen in a few months.'
'Oh great,' Omi said.
Ish came out of the toilet. He cracked a joke with the Aussie guys playing pool.
I turned to Omi.
'I don't want to talk about it. Don't worry, I won't do anything stupid. She sucks at maths. I don't know why I agreed to teach her in the first place.'
'Then stop teaching her no?' Omi said.
'Can we get lunch, I really want to get lunch,' I said and flipped the menu.
'I am just saying...'
'Ish,' I screamed across the bar, 'What do you want? Garlic bread is the cheapest item on the menu.'
'Whatever, I trust you,' he screamed back as he continued to play pool with the Aussie guys.
His last phrase bobbed up and down in my head like the surfboards on Bondi beach.
These houses are huge,' I said as we drove past a rich neighbourhood called Double Bay.
Fred had picked us up for breakfast on Sunday, our last day. Ish, Omi and Ali sat at the back in Fred's Saab convertible while I rode in the front. Cool air blew through our hair as we drove past Sydney's early morning streets.
'But most people have modest places,' Fred said. 'In Australia, we don't brag about how much money we make or what car you drive. Heck, people don't even ask what job you do. Do you know what people ask the most?'
'What?' Ish said.
'What do you play, that's what they ask,' Fred said.
'I love Australia. I wish India approached sports with the same spirit.' Ish leaned forward.
'Here sports is a national obsession,' Fred said. 'What's the obsession in your country then?'
'There's a lot of people. And there's a lot of obsessions. That's the problem,' Ish said.
'But religion and politics are pretty big. And them together, even bigger,' I added.
I stay out of that stuff. Aussie politics are a joke anyway,' Fred said, killing the engine.
We parked in an area called Paramatta Park. Fred had brought us to Lachan's Restaurant in the Old Colonial House. We went inside the restaurant to find two men waiting for us.
'Good morning Mr Greener and Mr Cutler.' Fred introduced us to the two older men.
'And this is the talented boy?' Mr Greener patted All's back.
'Yep, as talented as the man above sends them,' Fred said as we settled at the table.
'These are the gentlemen who helped me get your tickets. Not| my ex-girlfriend,' Fred said and winked at us.
'What?' Ish said as we understood the purpose of Fred inviting us. It wasn't to just play for a week.
'Remember my phone calls from Goa? To these gentlemen,' Fred said.
'Mr Greener is the chairman of the Australian Sports Academy and Mr Cutler is head of the AIS scholarship programme.' Fred buttered some toast 'I told them about AIL How he is good, really good, and how with proper training he has the potential to go really far.'
I saw Ish s face tighten in anticipation. Were they going to sponsor Ali?
'If he is as good as Fred and his boys who played with you say you are,' Mr Greener said, 'we should do whatever we can to help'
"Thank you, thank you,' Ish said as Fred shushed him. Over-excitement was a constant problem with Ish. His sister as well, Maybe it was hereditary.
'You see,' Mr Cutler cleared his throat, 'the AIS selects from the nominations of the various state academies. I can get Ali selected, However, Ali doesn't live in any Australian state.'
'So?' Ish said.
'Under AIS rules, the scholarship holder must be an Australian resident, or at least a person in the process of becoming a resident'
'Can't we make an exception?' I said. Omi was too busy eating to talk. Omi and Ali had hardly spoken during the entire trip. The Aussie accent stumped them.
'Well, the only way we can do it is this,' Mr Cutler said and took out a file. He opened it and laid out some forms on the table.
'Or Cutler had to pull serious strings at the immigration department for this,'
Mr Greener laughed in a friendly manner.
'Well, this is the Australian citizenship forms. As you may know, a lot of people in the