Page 58 of Rebound
“In the middle of a game.”
I shrug. “Yes.”
Our eyes are locked and I wonder if she can see into my soul with how intensely she stares at me. See that every inch of me belongs to her.
“I love you, Lotus.”
“I love you more, Trick.”
Now
It’s been one hell of a cold week since Tamara shut me down. Despite how the apartment is laid out, we’ve managed to avoid each other every single day. Every morning I leave her tea and breakfast on the counter and eat alone in my room, waiting until she leaves for work. Only then do I venture out into the main spaces to do everything else.
None of this surprises me, of course. I pushed too hard, I read everything wrong and she did what needed to be done. The blame falls entirely on me, even though she made it very clear we weren’t going to be anything more than roommates. I’m not even sure if we’re friends at this point. But that’s okay. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it.
Keeping my distance has been difficult. I got so used to us moving around each other effortlessly that without her, everything feels off. In an attempt to spend as much time out of the flat as possible, I finally met with the Tamil Nadu Thunder hockey team and management. We spent an entire day getting to know each other—lots of silly ice breaker games and a friendly scrimmage—and then planning out the rest of the training schedule.
Since the team is made up of other professional players, we have to ensure nobody is left out of any kind of training exercise. I’ve never been in a situation like this, but that’s why getting to know each other is important. Egos need to be left at the front door and the players have to respect every single member of the team. I implement a lot of the tricks Team India coaches taught me to get everyone on the same page.
By the time I get home, I’m so tired, I make dinner and pass out without ever running into Tamara.
There’s a reprieve from training when a couple of the players have to fly back to their home country for a tournament. I use the day to do work for Reach for the Stars. It was never my intention to start a foundation or give back in such a big way. I was raised to donate regularly and provide help where I could, but building an organisation that helps kids was not on my bucket list. But when I found kids sneaking into our official training facility in Bangalore, something clicked. These were kids from the slums who didn’t have access to education or proper healthcare. They definitely weren’t getting enough nutrition either. They wanted to play cricket and thought they could use our turf pitch.
Nihal and I caught them one evening when we stayed late to get in extra practice and stayed there until early morning showing them how to play hockey. Initially it was just about teaching the kids a sport and entertaining them. When it became clear they were lacking all the things necessary for children below the age of fifteen, we set up the Reach for the Stars Foundation. It took some time and a lot of planning, but the idea was simple—provide free education to kids in slum areas and underprivileged backgrounds. We knew by sending them to school, they’d have clean clothes and two full meals.
I grew up privileged and didn’t know what it was like to not have things. Whatever I wanted, my parents bought it for me. These kids didn’t have big dreams because they didn’t know they could reach for the stars. So we pay their school fees and anything else that’s required to get the kids everything they needed. We started with government schools, since they were easier to access and offered other benefits. Then slowly expanded to working with hybrid education systems.
We also offered the kids free extracurriculars, especially sports. We worked with other athletes we knew to get access to training facilities or public sports grounds. And encouraged kids to sign up, even if they didn’t know the sport. By the end of the first year, we had a large group of hockey players and it felt so good. To watch them work their butts off every single day made me happy.
Since Bangalore was my home for the last ten years, that’s where Nihal and I set up everything for the foundation. We rented a small office space where our staff worked out of and Nisha, Nihal’s wife, volunteered her time whenever she could spare it. We built the foundation into something we could be proud of. Something that gave back to the community in all the best ways.
Now that I’m in Chennai, it’s up to me to find schools we can work with and top of my list is Sunrise Niketan.
“Mr. Joseph, I’m Kaveri.”
“Please call me Patrick,” I tell the older woman as we shake hands before I sit down. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
“It’s not every day an Olympian wants to work with our school.”
I chuckle and settle into the seat. Government schools already provide free education to a large number of children and like I told Dominic, I don’t trust them to take our money and use it appropriately. With private and hybrid schools, they’re okay with the foundation having a more hands-on approach.
“I have to admit I don’t know a lot about your facility other than what was on the Facebook page we found.”
She blushes and tells me all about Sunrise Niketan, the school she started with her father when she was fresh out of college. Much like what we do with our foundation, Sunrise also provides meals and if the child is an orphan, they have dormitories as well. The big addition was all the kids have access to healthcare and get their required shots and tests. Kaveri and her father put all of their own money into running the school and like any NGO, they survive on donations. They even work with local hospitals and medical centres to provide the kids whatever they need.
“That’s pretty incredible. If you don’t mind me asking, how many donors do you have at this moment?”
“About one-fifty. The school’s gotten much bigger since we started it fifteen years ago.”
I nod, impressed. “And you have all the way until twelfth standard?”
“Tenth, for now. We’re considering expanding, but it requires hiring more teachers and it’s been a challenge for us already.”
“Understandable. I don’t want to make any assumptions, but like we said on the phone, you’re definitely interested in adding sports to your offerings, yes?”
She nods, not a single strand of her greying hair shifting out of place. “When my father was headmaster, he encouraged all the children to try one sport and see what they liked. After he passed, things got a little difficult for me to do it myself, so we stopped the athletics portion of our syllabus. But I know the children would benefit from it.”
“This has been incredibly helpful, Kaveri. I don’t want to take up more of your time, but is there any way I could take a tour of the campus?”
