Read Online The First Life of Vikram Roy (Many Lives Series Book 3) by Laxmi Hariharan - Free Book Online
Book: The First Life of Vikram Roy (Many Lives Series Book 3) by Laxmi Hariharan
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Authors: Laxmi Hariharan
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through: the clang of vessels from the kitchen, a siren in the distance, the faint ever-present sound of honking from the traffic below, the sea breeze whistling in through the open window … It's salty taste springs up on my tongue as if I am right there.
"Mum, Daddy?" I hear her knock on their door.
"I can't take this anymore." Mum's voice floats down the phone clearly, as if the door's been flung open. "How many times do I need to forgive you? I am losing count of the women in your life."
Dad's voice, softer than hers, but still firm, interrupts. "Our daughter's at the door, surely we can keep our peace in front of her?"
There is the sound of a door slamming shut, and then Dad comes on the line. "Vik. How are you? How's the cricket?"
"Cricket's coming along fine, Dad."
"You need to work on your timing, Vik. That's always been your weakness. Remember, timing is more important than strength. If you get your timing right, you can close the deal on many things in life. It's that killer instinct, you know?"
He has no idea how accurate his words are. Still, it's not helping me to hear about my obvious lack of "killer instinct" from him.
"Yes, Dad." My voice drips with long-suffering patience.
"There I go, lecturing you again …" Dad laughs. "Funny how you find yourself turning into your parent without even realising it." It's almost as if Dad is speaking aloud to himself.
In the silence that follows I jump in with, "How's Vishal? Can I talk to him?"
Silence.
Then, he says, slowly, "He's not at home."
"Where is he, Dad?" I ask.
A sigh. "Ah, Vik—" He's hesitant. Seems nervous. But why? "We were going to tell you when you came back home, but probably better you know now."
"What? What is it, Dad?" Even as he is deciding how to tell me, I know.
"You've sent Vishal away, haven't you?" I ask.
Silence. Again. Then, "How did you know?" he asks, sounding surprised. But he shouldn't be. Mum's made no secret that she'd like him out of her sight.
I'm not sure what to say. I stay quiet.
Dad breaks the silence this time. "He's at St Joseph's. At their hostel."
"That's a good school," I blurt out.
"Just not St James," we both say simultaneously.
Dad heaves a sigh. Again. I've never heard him sigh this much before. "I simply can't afford to send both of you to St James. And I've just had it with your mother's non-stop complaints about him. It's better for everyone that Vishal stays at the hostel."
Better for everyone but Vishal. He must really hate us now. But why didn't he call me. Tell me about it? But then, we haven't really spoken since I left home. And I haven't exactly reached out to him either. I, too, have forgotten him. When it comes down to it, I'm just like the rest of my family.
"So I guess things are better now, between you and Mum?" I keep my voice light. "Now that Vishal is not at home anymore."
"Not sure it is. The usual, you know. Ups and downs …" Dad's voice trails off. "Vishal was just an excuse. Nothing I do will make things better between us."
It's the first time he's admitted things aren't great. That's not good. My heart beats faster. Palms clammy, I fidget with the telephone. I should hang up now.
"You and Mum splitting up?" It's out before I can stop myself.
"No …" He doesn't seem very convinced. "No, of course not," he says with more confidence.
I believe him ... Almost.
"How's the girlfriend?" He asks.
Ah! That inevitable girlfriend question. "Nope. I'm concentrating on my studies … and cricket, remember?" I grin repeating his dialogue back at him.
Of course Dad comes right back with, "Don't become too studious either ... No one wants to date a boring man."
I sigh aloud and make sure he can hear it over the phone. "There really is no pleasing parents," I groan.
That does the trick. "Okay, okay!" Dad changes the topic. "Your mum demands to speak to you now." There's a hint of exasperation —resignation? —In his voice.
"Vikky?" Mum never uses
"Mum, Daddy?" I hear her knock on their door.
"I can't take this anymore." Mum's voice floats down the phone clearly, as if the door's been flung open. "How many times do I need to forgive you? I am losing count of the women in your life."
Dad's voice, softer than hers, but still firm, interrupts. "Our daughter's at the door, surely we can keep our peace in front of her?"
There is the sound of a door slamming shut, and then Dad comes on the line. "Vik. How are you? How's the cricket?"
"Cricket's coming along fine, Dad."
"You need to work on your timing, Vik. That's always been your weakness. Remember, timing is more important than strength. If you get your timing right, you can close the deal on many things in life. It's that killer instinct, you know?"
He has no idea how accurate his words are. Still, it's not helping me to hear about my obvious lack of "killer instinct" from him.
"Yes, Dad." My voice drips with long-suffering patience.
"There I go, lecturing you again …" Dad laughs. "Funny how you find yourself turning into your parent without even realising it." It's almost as if Dad is speaking aloud to himself.
In the silence that follows I jump in with, "How's Vishal? Can I talk to him?"
Silence.
Then, he says, slowly, "He's not at home."
"Where is he, Dad?" I ask.
A sigh. "Ah, Vik—" He's hesitant. Seems nervous. But why? "We were going to tell you when you came back home, but probably better you know now."
"What? What is it, Dad?" Even as he is deciding how to tell me, I know.
"You've sent Vishal away, haven't you?" I ask.
Silence. Again. Then, "How did you know?" he asks, sounding surprised. But he shouldn't be. Mum's made no secret that she'd like him out of her sight.
I'm not sure what to say. I stay quiet.
Dad breaks the silence this time. "He's at St Joseph's. At their hostel."
"That's a good school," I blurt out.
"Just not St James," we both say simultaneously.
Dad heaves a sigh. Again. I've never heard him sigh this much before. "I simply can't afford to send both of you to St James. And I've just had it with your mother's non-stop complaints about him. It's better for everyone that Vishal stays at the hostel."
Better for everyone but Vishal. He must really hate us now. But why didn't he call me. Tell me about it? But then, we haven't really spoken since I left home. And I haven't exactly reached out to him either. I, too, have forgotten him. When it comes down to it, I'm just like the rest of my family.
"So I guess things are better now, between you and Mum?" I keep my voice light. "Now that Vishal is not at home anymore."
"Not sure it is. The usual, you know. Ups and downs …" Dad's voice trails off. "Vishal was just an excuse. Nothing I do will make things better between us."
It's the first time he's admitted things aren't great. That's not good. My heart beats faster. Palms clammy, I fidget with the telephone. I should hang up now.
"You and Mum splitting up?" It's out before I can stop myself.
"No …" He doesn't seem very convinced. "No, of course not," he says with more confidence.
I believe him ... Almost.
"How's the girlfriend?" He asks.
Ah! That inevitable girlfriend question. "Nope. I'm concentrating on my studies … and cricket, remember?" I grin repeating his dialogue back at him.
Of course Dad comes right back with, "Don't become too studious either ... No one wants to date a boring man."
I sigh aloud and make sure he can hear it over the phone. "There really is no pleasing parents," I groan.
That does the trick. "Okay, okay!" Dad changes the topic. "Your mum demands to speak to you now." There's a hint of exasperation —resignation? —In his voice.
"Vikky?" Mum never uses
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