Now, look, I’ve been at this for more than forty-five years — long before Satish was even an itch in his father’s pants. I started with nothing, squatting on roadsides, selling roasted chana and peanuts off a gunny sack. They called me “Joker” because of how my wide smile always stayed on, even when dust, thick as chickpea flour, covered my face and hair.
Time and Opportunity
