Three Mistakes Of My Life(Chetan Bhagat) - Chapter 14：The Opening Ceremony

The Team India Cricket Shop opened with the smashing of a coconut on the morning of 29 April. All our immediate families had come. My mother and Omi’s family were visibly happy while Ish’s parents were silent. They still visualised Ish as an army officer, not a shopkeeper in Belrampur.

‘May Laxmi(1) shower all blessings on you hardworking boys,’ Omi’s mother said before she left.

Soon, it was just us in our twenty-feet-by-ten-feet shop. ‘Move the counter in, the shutter won’t close,’ Ish screamed at Omi. Omi’s forehead broke into sweat as he lifted the bulky counter-top yet again to move it back an inch.

I stepped out of the shop and crossed the road for the tenth time to look at the board. It was six feet wide and two feet tall. We had painted it blue – the colour of the Indian team. In the centre, we had the letters ‘Team India Cricket Shop’ in the colours of the Indian flag. The excited painter from Shahpur had thrown in the faces of Tendulkar and Ganguly for free. Ganguly had a squint and Tendulkar’s lips looked bee-stung, but it all added to the charm.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Omi said as he joined me in looking at the board.

Our first customer came at 12 noon. An under-ten boy strolled to the front of our store as his mother bought puja flowers. The three of us sprung into action.

‘Should I ask him what he wants?’ Omi whispered to me.

I shook my head. Pushy meant desperate.

The boy looked at tennis balls and bounced a few of them. While no one played tennis in Belrampur, kids played cricket with them.

‘How much for the balls?’ The boy moved to the basket of balls. Clearly this was a price-sensitive customer. He bounced five different ones on the ground.

‘Eight bucks. You want one?’ I said.

He nodded.

‘You have money?’

‘Mummy has,’ he said.

‘Where is mummy?’

‘There,’ he pointed in the general direction of the other temple shops. I picked up the balls he had bounced and placed them in the basket.

His mother came running into our shop.

‘There you are Sonu, stupid boy,’ she pulled his elbow and took him out.

‘Mummy, ball’ was all he could say about his potential purchase.

We made our first sale soon after. Two young brothers wearing branded clothes came to the shop.

‘How much for tennis balls?’ one boy said.

‘Eight bucks for Arrow, six bucks for the local basket there,’ Ish said.

The boys moved to the local basket. They, started the ball-bouncing routine again as my heart wept.

‘So where do you play cricket?’ Ish asked them. ‘Satellite,’ the elder boy said. Satellite was an upmarket neighbourhood on the other side of the Sabarmati river.

‘What are you doing in the old city?’ Ish said.

‘We came to the temple. It is Harsh bhaiya’s birthday,’ the younger boy said.

I realised we had struck real-estate gold. The temple was ancient and drew in people from the new city, too. And it was a birthday, every chance of pockets being loaded.