"Checkmate!" smiled Adrian. Rob looked devastated. "How could you manage such a move?" Rob's eyes almost popped out. "You have to think Rob. Everything can't always be according to the set of rules. You have to break them and design your own moves. Creativity is an absolute necessity in any form of sports," replied Adrian with a twinkle in his eyes. "You will go a long way Adrian. I have a good feeling about this," said Rob with a smile. "Have you seen that old guy selling watermelons over there?" asked Rob who was peeping out of his hotel window. "Yeah. I have never seen any shop stocked up with so many watermelons!" chuckled Adrian. "Really! Let's go out. We need to check the schedule of our match against Albania tomorrow," said Rob as he got ready. "The youth chess championship is finally here!" the excitement was evident in Adrian's voice as he threw the pillows on the bed. "Let's go!" said Adrian, as they left the room and locked it. They walked down the sideways and reached the old guy selling the watermelon. "How much?" Rob asked. The old guy looked at them and replied, in proper english "One for fifteen rupees". Adrian signaled "two" with his fingers. As the old guy started peeling off the skin, he asked them, "You British?" Rob smiled and replied, "Yes". The old guy smiled and asked "You see this road?" They both needed. "58 years ago this road used to take people like me from Mumbai to Karachi. It was a one night journey. I was born in Karachi. I studied there. But then you people came and said that Hindus and Muslims can't live together. My family, Hindu's, got scared and settled here. I never had a home since then," said he, serving them the watermelons. The pangs of immigration struck a chord with them.
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