Three Mistakes Of My Life Part 9

'Just take it from my salary, ok? Can you let me talk?' Ish said with great politeness. I wanted to get up and leave.

I get a small retirement pension. How much do you charge?'

'Four hun...,' I started to say but Ish interrupted with 'Why don't we start and see how it goes?'

Everyone nodded, even Omi because he did whatever everyone else was doing anyway.

'Right, Govind?' he said to me last.

I gave the briefest nod possible, a five-degree tilt.

'Stay for dinner, please,' Ali's dad implored as we stood up to leave.

'No, no,' Omi said, horrified at the idea of eating in a Muslim home.

'Please, I insist. For us, hospitality is important. You are our mehmaan.'

I would have disagreed, but I wanted to get something for the free maths-and- cricket coaching programme.

We sat on the living room floor. Ali's mom brought us two extra large plates, one for the three of us and another for Ali's dad. The plates had simple food - chapattis, daal and a potato-cauliflower vegetable.

Omi sat down. He did not touch the food.

'Sorry I can't offer you meat. This is all we have today.'

'I don't eat meat. I am a priest's son,' Omi said.

An awkward pause followed. Ish jumped in, 'The food looks great. Dig in guys.'

To share a single plate is strangely intimate, lsh and I broke off the same chapatti. His long fingers reminded me of his sister's. d.a.m.n, I had to teach her again the next day.

'They don't teach maths in madrasas?' I asked for the sake of conversation and mathematics.

'Not in this one,' Ali's dad said as he spooned in daal. 'Maths and science are forbidden.'

'That's strange. In this day and age,' I said. I thought of a business opportunity, a ma.s.sive maths tuition chain outside every madrasa.

'Not really,' Ali's dad said. 'Madrasas were not even supposed to be schools.

Their role is confined to teaching Islamic culture. Here, have some more chapattis.'

'And that's why you had him switch schools?' lsh said.

'Yes. I would have done it earlier, but my father was adamant Ali goes to a madrasa. He died six months ago.'

'Oh, I am sorry,' Ish said.

'He was unwell for a long time. I miss him, but not the years of medical expenses that wiped me out,' Ali's father said. He drank a gla.s.s of water. 'When I retired from university, I had to leave the campus quarters. The party wanted me to move here. The Belrampur Munic.i.p.al School was close, so I put him there. Is it good?'

'Yes, we studied there for twelve years,' I said.

'Omi, you didn't eat anything. At least have some fruit,' Ali's dad said, offering him some bananas. Omi took one, examined it, and gobbled it in three bites.

'Why are you so keen to teach Ali cricket?' Ali's dad said.

The question was enough to light up Ish's face. He spoke animatedly. 'Ali has a gift. You see how he blossoms with my training.'

'You play cricket?' Ali's father said. 'In school and now I have a sports store. I've seen players, but none like Ali,'

Ish said pa.s.sionately.

'But it's just a game. One guy hits a ball with a stick, the rest run around to stop it.'

'It's more than that,' lsh said, offended. 'But if you have never played it, you will never understand.'

Ali's dad said, 'You know I am a member of the secular party?'

'We saw the sign,' I said.

'Would you like to come and visit our party sometime?'

Omi suddenly stood up. 'Do you know who you are talking to? I am Pandit Shastri's son. You have seen the Swami temple in Belrampur or not?' His voice was loud.

Ish pulled Omi's elbow to make him sit down.

'How does that matter, son?' Ali's dad said.

'You are telling me to come visit your party? I am a Hindu.'

'We won't hold that against you,' Ali's father grinned. 'Ours is a secular party.'

'It is not secular. It is suck-ular party. Suck-up politics, that is all you know.

No wonder Muslims like you flock there. Now Ish, we are leaving or not?'

'Omi, behave yourself, we came for Ali.'

I don't care. Let him play marbles and fail maths. If Bittoo Mama finds out I am here...'

'Bittoo is your Mama?' Ali's dad said.

'He is your opposition. And a suck-up party will never win in Belrampur.'

'Calm down, son. Sit down,' Ali's dad said.

Omi sat down and Ish ma.s.saged his shoulder. Omi rarely flared up, but when he did, it took several pacifying tactics to get him back to normal.

'Here, have a banana. I know you are hungry,' Ish soothed.

Omi resisted, but took the banana.

'I am also new to secular politics, son. I was in a hardline party,' Ali's dad said and paused to reflect, 'yes, I made a few mistakes too.'

'Whatever. Don't even try to convert people from our party to yours,' Omi said fiercely.

I won't. But why are you so against us? The party has ruled the country for forty years, we must be doing something right.'

'You won't rule Gujarat anymore. Because we can see through your hypocrisy,'

Omi said.

'Omi, stop,' Ish said.

'It's ok, Ish. I rarely get young people to talk to. Let him speak his mind,' Ali's dad said.

I don't have anything to say. Let's go,' Omi said.

'The communal parties aren't perfect either,' Ali's dad said.

I guess even Ali's dad loved to argue.

'There you go. Here is the bias, you call us communal. Your party gives preference to Muslims, but it is secular. Why?' Omi said. 'What preference have we given?' Ali's dad said. 'Why can't you let us make a temple in Ayodhya?' Omi said. 'Because there is a mosque there already'

'But there was a temple there before.' 'That is not proven.'

'It has. The government keeps hiding those reports.'

'Incorrect.' 'Whatever. It is not an ordinary place. We believe it is the birthplace of our lord.

We said, "Give us that site, and we will move the mosque respectfully next door."

But you can't even do that. And we, the majority, can't have that one little request fulfilled. Parekh-ji is right, what hope does a Hindu have in this country?'

'Oh, so it is Parekh-ji. He taught you all this?' Ali's dad almost smirked.

'He didn't teach us. Our cause is labelled communal, it is not Cool to talk about it. But because Hindus don't talk, you think they don't feel anything? Why do you think people listen to Parekh-ji? because somewhere deep down, he strikes a chord. A common chord of resentment is brewing Mr Naseer, even if it is not talked about'

A lot of Hindus vote for us, you should know,' Ali's father said.

'But slowly they will see the truth.'

'Son, India is a free country. You have a right to your views. My only advice is Hinduism is a great religion, but don't get extreme.'

'Hah, don't tell me about being extreme. We know which religion is extreme.'

I wasn't sure if Omi really believed in what he said, or if he was revising lessons given by Parekh-ji. He never spoke about this to Ish and me, but, somewhere deep down, did he also feel like Bittoo Mama? If Ish's pa.s.sion was cricket and my pa.s.sion was business, was Omi's pa.s.sion religion? Or maybe, like most people, he was confused and trying to find his pa.s.sion. And unlike us who never took him seriously, perhaps Parekh-ji gave him a sense of purpose and importance.

'Can we please make a pact to not discuss politics?' Ish pleaded as he signalled a timeout.

'You still fine with sending your son?' I asked Ali's dad, wondering if he had changed his mind after Omi's outbursts.

'Don't be silly. We are communicating our differences. That is what is missing in this country. It's ok, I trust you with my son.' We stood up to leave and reached the door, lsh confirmed the practice time - 7 a.m.

'Come, I will walk you boys to the main road. I like to take a walk after dinner,'

Ali's dad said.

We walked out of Ali's house. Omi held his head down, probably feeling ashamed at having raised his voice. Ali's dad spoke again. 'I am not particularly fond of my own party'

'Really?' I said when no one said anything.

'Yes, because at one level, they too, like all political parties, spend more time playing politics than working for the country. Creating differences, taking sides, causing divides - they know this too well.'

All of us nodded to say goodnight. But Ali's dad was not finished. 'It is like two customers go to a restaurant and the manager gives them only one plate of food.

And if you want to eat, you must fight the other guy. The two guys get busy fighting, and some people tell them to make amends and eat half plate each. In all this, they forget the real issue - why didn't the manager provide-two plates of food?'

I noticed Ali's dad's face. Behind the beard and the moustache, there was a wise man somewhere.

'Good point, the fight is created. That is why I am never big on religion or politics,' I said. 'Once a fight is created, it leads to another and so on. Youl can't really check it,' lsh said.

'You know I used to teach zoology in college,' Ali's dad said. 'And I once read about chimpanzee fights that may be relevant here.'

'Chimpanzee fights?'

'Yes, male chimpanzees of the same pack fight violently with each other - for food, females, whatever. However, after the fight, they go through a strange ritual.

They kiss each other, on the lips.'

Even Omi had to laugh.

'So Hindus and Muslims should kiss?' I said.

'No, the point is this ritual was created by nature. To make sure the fight gets resolved and the pack stays together. In fact, any long-term relations.h.i.+p requires this.'

'Any?' Ish said.

'Yes, take any husband and wife. They will fight, and hurt each other emotionally. However, later they will make up, with hugs, presents or kind understanding words. These reconciliatory mechanisms are essential. The problem in Indian Hindu-Muslim rivalry is not that that one is right and the other is wrong. It is...

'That there are no reconciliatory mechanisms,' Ish said.

'Yes, so that means if politicians fuel a fire, there is no fire brigade to check it.

It sounds harsh, but Omi is right. People feel inside. Just by not talking about it, the differences do not go away. The resentment brews and brews, and doesn't come out until it is too late.'

We had reached the main road and stopped next to a paan shop. I figured out why Ali's dad had come with us. He wanted I lis after-dinner paan.

'Tell Ali to be on time,' Ish said as we waved goodbye.