Ashish is going to be a footballer, he assures me. But just in case he's not able single-handedly to transform the fortunes of the Indian national side (in probably the only area of world affairs where this country's still not a major player), he's revising his college mathematics as well. He claims to have seven girlfriends: I'm impressed, until Vivek - two years his junior at just 15 - beats him with a score of eight.
He calls Priya - not one of the eight, I'm assured - and puts me on: "Hi, Priya, it's Adam. I've got a message from Vivek. He's too shy to say it himself, but he's in love with you". Well, Ashish finds it funny.
Vivek forgives me, offers me a puff at the hookah pipe, and teaches me the Hindi for motherfucker, and even better, sisterfucker. Doubt i'll remember them for long, though.
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