Three Mistakes Of My Life Part 4

'Too expensive. No Harsh, we are not getting a bat.'

'My birthday present, mummy, please.' Harsh cajoled.

'Yes but beta, why buy something from this temple shop. Old city doesn't have good quality. We will go to the Navrangpura market.'

'It is excellent quality, aunty. We source from Kashmiri suppliers. Take my word,' Ish said.

'Aunty' eyed us with suspicion. 'I was the team captain for all munic.i.p.al schools in the area, aunty. I have personally chosen the bats,' Ish said with as much heart as Omi's dad said his prayers.

'Please, mummy,' Harsh said and tugged at her saree. The tug connected to aunty's purse, which opened and brought out two hundred-rupee notes.

Done. We had closed the deal of the day. The bat cost us a hundred and sixty, so forty bucks profit, I exclaimed mentally.

'Goodbye, champ.' Ish waved to Harsh.

'I'll come to your shop on my happy birthday,' Chinu said.

'Yes! You are amazing, Ish,' I said and hi-fived everyone.

'The kid is a quick learner. If he practices, he will be good. Of course, his mother will stuff him with studies the moment he reaches Cla.s.s X. The only stance he will take is to sit on a desk with his books,' Ish said.

'Don't be depressing, man,' I said. 'We made forty bucks on the bat and four on the two b.a.l.l.s. We are forty-four bucks in profit, sir.'

We sold some candy and two more b.a.l.l.s in the next two hours. Our total profit for the day was fifty bucks. We moved the bats and the ball baskets inside and closed shop at 7.00 p.m., after the puja. To celebrate our opening we chose the chana-bhatura stall. At four bucks a plate, I could expense it to the business.

'Do I get to take some money home? I really want to give mom my first salary,'

Omi said as he tucked in half a chili with his hot bhatura.

"Wait, this isn't real profit. This is contribution. We earn th< rent="" first="" and="" then="" we="" will="" see.'="" i="" placed="" my="" empty="" plate="" back="" a="" the="" stall.="" 'congrats="" guys,="" we="" are="" in="">

Three Months Later

'Eight thousand three, four and five hundred,' I said as I emptied the cas.h.i.+er's box. 'This is our profit for the first three months after paying rent. Not bad, not bad at all.'

I was super-pleased. Our shop had opened at an opportune< time.="" the="" summer="" vacations="" had="" started="" and="" india="" had="" won="" the="" one-day="" series="" with="" south="" africa.="" kids="" with="" lots="" of="" time="" and="" patriotism="" flocked="" to="" team="" india="" cricket="" shop="" the="" day="" they="" received="" their="" pocket="">

Some came even without money, if only to meet Ish and ge tips on cricket. I didn't mind as it helped us pa.s.s the time. The dull aspect of opening a shop is boredom. We opened from nine to seven, and even with twenty customers a day it meant only around two customers an hour.

'So we get our share now?' Omi said excitedly.

I divided the money into four stacks. The first three stacks were fifteen hundred rupees each - the money each of us could take home. The remaining four thousand was to be retained in the business.

'What do you mean retained? What do we need to retain it for?' Ish questioned even as Omi happily counted his notes.

'Ish, we need to keep a war chest in case we want to renovate the store. Don't you want a better gla.s.s countertop? Or nice lighting?'

Ish shook his head.

'Sure we do. And ... I have expansion plans,' I said. 'What?' 'There is a new shopping mall under construction at Navrangpura char rasta. If you book early, you can get a discount on renting a shop.'

'Renting? But we already have a shop,' Ish said, puzzled and irritated at the same time.

I knew why Ish grumbled. He wanted to buy a TV for the shop, listening to matches on radio during shop hours was no fun.

'No Ish, a proper shop. Young people like to shop in sw.a.n.ky malls. That is the future. Our shop has been doing good business, hut we can't grow unless we move to a new city location.'

'I like it here,' Omi said. 'This is our neighbourhood. What we sell is being used by kids in Nana Park.'

'I don't want this short-sighted mentality. I will open a store in a mall, and by next year have one more store. If you don't grow in business, you stagnate.'

'Another shop? What? We will not be working together?' Omi said.

'It is Govind's bulls.h.i.+t. We have only started and he already aspires to be Ambani. Can't we just buy a TV?' Ish said, 'Shah Electronics will give us on instalment if we pay a down-payment of four thousand.'

'No way. We keep the four thousand for business.'

'Well, the TV belongs to the business, no?' Ish said.

'Yes, but it is a dead a.s.set. It doesn't earn. We have a long way to go. Three thousand a month is nothing. And Ish doesn't let me keep notebooks and pencils...'

'I said this is a sports store. I don't want kids to think about studies when they come here.'

Ish and I had argued about this before. I saw an easy opportunity, but Ish protested every time.

'Ok, here is a deal,' Ish said, 'I agree to the notebooks, not textbooks mind you, only notebooks. But we buy a TV. I have to watch matches. I don't care, here take my fifteen hundred.'

He threw his share of cash at me.

Omi tossed in his money as well. As usual, I had to surrender to fools.

'Ok, but we need to increase the revenue. Target for next quarter is twenty thousand bucks.'

They ignored me as they discussed TV brands. I shook my head and outlined my strategy for increasing revenues.

'Will you do coaching cla.s.ses?' I asked Ish.

'What?'

'Kids love your cricket tips. Why not do cricket coaching for a fee?'

'Me? I am not that good man. And where? In the temple?' 'No, we will do it in the abandoned SBI compound.' 'Why? Aren't we making enough?' Omi said. 'We can never make enough. I want to get to fifty thousand a quarter. Omi, you can give fitness training to the students.' 'So more work for us. What about you?' Ish said. 'I am going to start offering maths tuitions again.' 'Here?'

'Yes, a couple here, or in the SBI compound itself while you guys give cricket coaching.'

Omi and Ish looked at me like I was the hungriest shark in the world.

'C'mon guys. I am making sure we have a solid healthy business.'

'It is ok. Just the shop is so boring, Ish,' Omi said. He was excited about making kids do push-ups. 'Yeah, at least I will get to hit the pitch,' Ish said.

I tossed in my fifteen hundred, too, and we bought a TV the same day. We set it permanently at the sports channel. Omi brought mats and cus.h.i.+ons and spread them in front of the TV. On match days, we would all sit there until a customer arrived. I had to admit, it made the day go by much quicker.

I changed the board on the shop. Under the 'Team India Cricket Shop', it also said 'Stationery, Cricket Coaching and Maths Tuitions available'. I may not have diversified geographically, but I had diversified my product offering.

CHAPTER Three

Apart from cricket, badminton was the other popular game in Belrampur. In fact, the girls only played badminton. It was an excellent turnover business.

Shuttle c.o.c.ks needed to be replaced, rackets needed rewiring and badminton rackets didn't last as long as cricket bats.

School stationery became the other hit item in the following weeks. Only some kids played sports, but every kid needed notebooks, pens and pencils, and parents never said no to that. Many times, someone buying a ball would buy a notebook, or the other way round. We offered a total solution. Soon, suppliers came to us themselves. They kept stuff on credit and returnable basis - chart paper, gum bottles, maps of India, water bottles and tiffin boxes. It is only after you open a shop that you realise the length and breadth of the Indian student industry.

We kept the cricket coaching and tuitions at the same price -250 rupees a month. Customers for maths tuitions were easier to get, given the higher demand and my track record. I taught at the SBI compound building in the mornings. Ish used the compound grounds for the two students who signed up for cricket tuitions.

They were the best players in the Belrampur Munic.i.p.al School and had fought with their parents to let them try coaching for three months.

Of course, we still spent most of our time in the shop.

'Should we do greeting cards?' I wondered as I opened a sample packet left by a supplier. At five-rupee retail price and two-rupee cost price, cards had solid margins. However, people in Belrampur did not give each other greeting cards.

'This is in-swinger, and this is off-swinger. By the way, this is the third ball in two weeks. What's up Tapan?' Ish asked a regular customer. Thirteen-year-old Tapan was one of the best bowlers of his age in the Belrampur Munic.i.p.al School.

Ish gripped the cricket ball and showed him the wrist movement.

'It is that nightmare Ali. Ball keeps getting lost with his shots. Why did he move to our school?' Tapan grumbled as he rubbed the ball on his shorts.

'Ali? New student? Haven't seen him here,' Ish said. All good players visited our store and Ish knew them personally.

'Yes, batsman. Just joined our school. You should come see him. He wouldn't come here, right?' Tapan said.

Ish nodded. We had few Muslim customers. Most of them used other Hindu boys to make their purchases.

'You want to sign up for cricket tuitions. Ish will teach you, he played at the district level,' I could not help pitching our other service.

'Mummy will not allow. She said I can only take tuitions for studies. No sports coaching,' Tapan said.

'It is ok, have a good game,' Ish said, ruffling the boy's hair.

'You see this. That is why India doesn't win every match,' Ish said after Tapan left.

Yes, Ish has this ridiculous theory that India should win every match. 'Well, we don't have to. It won't be much of a game otherwise,' I said and closed the cash box.

'Our country has a billion people. We should always win,' Ish insisted. 'Statistically impossible.'

'Why? Australia has twenty million people. Yet they win almost every match.

We have fifty times the people, so fifty times the talent. Plus, cricket is India's only game while Australia has rugby and football and whatever. So there is no way we should be defeated by them. Statistically, my friend, Australia should be a rounding error.'

'Then why?' I said.

'Well, you saw that kid. Parents will spend thousands teaching kids useless trigonometry and calculus they will never use in real life. But if it is sports coaching, it is considered a waste of money.'

'Don't worry, we have them covered. Our shop now offers both.'

'It is not about the business Govind. Really, is this just about money for you?'

'Money is nice...'

'These kids, Govind. Look at them, thirteen-year-olds holding their bats with pride. Or the way they want to learn to bowl better. They have a fire in their eyes before every little match at Nana Park. When India wins, they dance. They are they only people Ij see with pa.s.sion. I like being with them.'

'Whatever,' I shrugged.

'Of course, in two years time they will reach Cla.s.s X. Their bats will be replaced with physics books. And then the spark will begin to die. Soon, they will turn into depressed adults.'

'That is not true, Ish. Everyone needs a pa.s.sion. I have mine.'

'Then why are most grown-ups so grumpy? Why can't they smile more often and be excited like those kids at Nana Park?' 'Can you stop being grumpy now and help me clean the shop?'

'Ok, ok, we will do a booze party,' I laughed. Omi and Ish had gripped me tight from both sides until I relented.

'Where is my son Omi?' Bittoo Mama entered our shop at (losing time and proceeded to hug his nephew. He held a box of sweets in a red velvet cloth.

'Where were you, Mama?' Omi said. Since the shop opened, he had never visited us.

'I toured all over Gujarat, with Parekh-ji. What an experience! Here, have some besan ladoos. Fresh from Baroda,' Bittoo Mama said. I ordered a Frooti. Ish pulled out stools and we sat outside. I picked a ladoo.

'What is this, Omi? Wearing shoes?' Bittoo Mama's eyes were lined with kohl.

He had a red tikka in the middle of his forehead.

'Mama?' Omi squeaked. I looked at my feet. I wore fake Reebok slippers. Ish wore his old sneakers.