Late in 1995, a friend called Arjun Reddy had introduced me to a dentist who lived in the quaint Latin quarter of Fontainhas in Panjim. A s...
Late in 1995, a friend called Arjun Reddy had introduced me to a dentist who lived in the quaint Latin quarter of Fontainhas in Panjim. A smiling, happy soul, Abel DeSouza owned a clinic that had seen better days. He was desperately in love with someone in the Gulf and, eager to be near his beloved, he took up a job offer in Yemen.
So eager was he to leave Goa that he had offered his clinic to me. “Listen, Wendell. I am going off to work in Yemen. My mother will be happy if you rent the place from us.”
I had been taken aback. “Let your job come through, then we will talk about it.”
“The job will come through. I have already paid an agent in Mumbai.” That means nothing, I had wanted to tell him. But I kept my lips zipped. I advised him to go to and spend some time in Dubai, which was where the person he loved lived. He did, and then came back and leased his clinic to me. Not willing to pass up on such a wonderful opportunity, I started making plans to launch my own store.
As I had feared, however, Abel was duped...
