The First Life of Vikram Roy (Many Lives Series Book 3) by Laxmi Hariharan Read Free Book Online Page B

me with all her questions. She won't stop till she has wormed it all out of me. What have I got myself into?
    Dad's voice has a smug ring to it when he says, "Ha! Nothing like the love of a good woman to redeem a man!"
    "Dad! What are you talking about?" Woman? She's just a girl." I redden at what he is trying to tell me.  
    At which he of course changes the topic. "Oh! Here, Vishal wants to say hi!"
    "Hey, Bro!" On the phone Vishal sounds like a small boy. Vishal is still unwavering in his loyalty to me. The glimmer of hate I had sensed on first meeting him has been replaced by brotherly affection since the aquarium incident.
    "Hey, Vishal … Wassup?"
    "How's St James? You playing cricket now?"
    "Yep … Just, you know … trying my hand at it."
    "What about your Gameboy —? Can I have that if you are not using it anymore?"
    I think of my video game with guilt. Most of my time outside of class is spent practising cricket with Ash. To my surprise I find the game actually appeals to the intellect in me … And, I really like being outdoors. But I am not ready to part with my Gameboy. Yet. It's as if by holding onto it I am keeping a part of my childhood alive.
    "And there are girls there too?" He lowers his voice.
    I nod. "Yep."
    "Can I meet your girlfriend?" he asks, his voice excited.
    "Uh! Sure," I lie, relieved when Dad comes back on the line. I hear him tell Vishal to go back to his room before he resumes the conversation.  
    "When you grow up, promise you'll take care of him?"
    "Of course, Dad," I say, surprised.
    There's silence between us as I digest what he says. And at what he doesn't spell out. With Dad, I've learnt, it's the stuff he doesn't say that is the loudest. I know what he means is that given a choice Mum would simply pretend Vishal doesn't exist. But I know Vishal is Dad's son. Just like me. And Dad's worried about what's going to happen to him, and that Vishal needs to be protected till he's old enough to face the world on his own. The silence stretches. I can hear the muted Bombay traffic roar over the telephone lines.
    Even as I'm trying to make sense of my own surroundings, I now see my family clearly for what they are. Perhaps it's the distance, or maybe I really am just old enough to see things for what they are. Either way, it feels I have taken my first steps towards adulthood. I'm not sure I'm ready for this yet.
    "You know I'll take care of all of you, Dad. The man of the family, and all that?" I say trying to keep my voice light.
    Dad laughs, then, "You're a good boy. A better son than I ever was to my father."
    "You make me sound so boring, Dad," I protest.
    "No, no, far from boring. You were just born an old soul. A responsible old soul. I know I can count on you."
    The call leaves me with a strange feeling.

THIRTEEN

    Music. It'll be the death of me. It's the one thing, maybe the only thing; I'm worse at than cricket. Most mornings now begin with music practice. Already, I have tried my hand at every single instrument here—the guitar, the sitar, the drums, the xylophone, the violin, the saxophone, the flute—and have failed at all of them. There's only one instrument remaining to try my hand at. It's large, unwieldy, and one of the more expensive instruments in school.
    "I really don't want to play this … cello … or anything else for that matter," I mutter to Tenzin as we walk to the music room, where Mr Archer, our music teacher, is waiting for us that morning.  
    "You've got to at least try. If not, you'll never know what you're good at." Tenzin's very reasonable that way. In fact, he takes the meaning of "being Zen" to new highs … or depths, as the case maybe. Ten zen , that's what I call him.
    "You're right. But then, you are good at almost all the music instruments in here. Are there any you can't play?"
    He thinks about it then says, "The piano?"
    "See, that's what I mean." I pounce on him. "It's like you have music running through your veins."
    "It's nothing …" He