In a community such as a college hostel, with a large number of like-minded students all living at the same place, several little groups develop over time. These groups are living, heaving entities, some ever-changing, some constant for the longest times and each with their own little idiosyncrasies. It isn't always obvious how these groups come to be. Some have a clear common interest - like say the friendship between all the members of a club - and some just happen to be because of some intangible factor - perhaps a group of people who happen to have lunch at the same time and place everyday.
Some people are part of several groups, some are part of just the one group. One group that I'm part of (at least the WhatsApp group) is the group of people who play football. Every day one brave man takes the initiative and posts something to the tune of "Playing at 5:30?" while others reply "In" or "Out". There are yet others who lurk and watch how the situation develops and will be "In if enough people". Some bypass the group and just come down to play football if he sees enough people playing on the ground.
Today, the denizens of "The Football People" weren't too keen on playing and the plan to play football petered away after just three "In"s were registered on the group. I went down anyway, replete with shoes and socks when I saw a group of football regulars striding towards the cricket ground donning shorts and a comfortable, faded T-shirt, tell-tale signs of someone going to play.
I'd heard accounts of another group of my peers playing football bare-foot on the cricket ground but had never joined them or even seen them. Deciding to give it a go, I sauntered towards them, waved and soon joined them on the smooth, grassy cricket ground. I could see why they enjoyed playing barefoot on this ground. There was no danger of blisters or injury. The grass was like a carpet under the feet.
The pre-team-selection tradition is to just juggle the ball, try to keep it off the ground for as long as possible, this task requiring at least 4-5 people. There were, of course, several groups of people playing cricket. One of them was a group of my batch-mates, whom I greeted. "Can I play cricket with you guys?", I casually enquired, half-jokingly. The reply was a yes. After this match. Alright.
I went over to the football guys and did my best to keep the ball in the air using only feet and head. The football match didn't look like starting anytime soon. The sorting process was just beginning. I just didn't feel like football. I got a shout from my friend playing cricket. "Khel rahe ho kya?" (Will you play?)
I remember once when I was about 12-13, my sister came home with an acquaintance and he was far older than me. In his mid-20s, if my memory serves right. I was playing cricket on the street just in front of my house and he asked if he could bat a few balls. After playing a couple of deliveries awkwardly, he remarked on how it had been over 5 years since he had picked up a bat.
I was absolutely shocked and appalled. That day, that instant, I vowed to myself that I would never become like that - losing touch with the game I love and grow up to be a man who doesn't touch a cricket bat for years at a time. What sort of a man was that? And what kind of a life was that?
And now here I was, playing cricket after over 2 years of not playing. To be fair to myself, I haven't stopped playing altogether. Cricket has merely been superseded by football and basketball. I like their constant action and the fact that they are contact sports. Yet, I do feel like I have betrayed cricket, my first love.
And so I took to the field to play a 4-over game on grass. (The pitch and the outfield were identical, with soft grass. Good length balls were bouncing into the batsmen's forehead) I fielded first, watched as my team restricted the opposition to 15 runs in the allotted 4 overs, setting a target of 16. A tricky target.
Since I didn't bowl, citing the divine laws of gully cricket, I was given the opening slot in the batting line-up. The rest, as they (or maybe just I) say, is history. I coolly batted through the innings and clinched my team a thrilling last ball victory in the fading light, even as wickets tumbled at the other end. I did not make that up, I can find my friends to corroborate the story.
Needless to say, I was ecstatic. And for me, it was a throwback to childhood, a childhood dominated by cricket. The hot weather reminded me of summer days back home, playing often the whole day. Hide and seek in the afternoons and nights, cricket in the mornings and evenings.
Now I've lost touch with cricket. I've lost touch with my childhood. The date is 2nd April 2017. It was on 2nd April 2011 that India won the world cup at the Wankhede. It was my greatest moment following cricket. From then on, anything India did was compared to this dazzling achievement. We lost two consecutive test series away from home in the same year. Both humiliating 4-0 whitewashes. Who cares, we're world champions, I told myself. TheIPL DLF Pepsi Vivo IPL happened within a week after that world cup. What is this circus of a competition with players constantly changing teams, I asked myself. It was no world cup, and hence it wasn't anything great. Perhaps I had been saturated by cricket and the euphoric moment of winning the world cup offered me the desired closure.
Thus cricket slowly became distant. Football took over my life. Today, I'm a football man through and through, casually checking cricket scores sporadically. My life has altered significantly. I have lived away from home for nearly 4 years. I am about to complete my 4th year at college. The 5th year will consist of active research and thinking about the future. College applications, job applications, statements of purpose, recommendation letters, the whole package. I will be preparing for the true outside world. I've been phased into it quite well, but now is where it truly begins. I'll have to start thinking of my own finance rather than asking my father. I'll have to truly start taking more independent decisions.
This was surely my last moment of cricketing glory, 6 years on from my greatest moment and the last time I could remember being completely engrossed by cricket. It was also perhaps the final, dying echo from my childhood, the last vestiges of which are finally being extinguished for good. I'm moving from the safe confines of a gentlemanly cricket world to a rough and tumble, abrasive football world. Here people try to deceive referees. They happily chop down another man while he is running and pretend they did nothing. It's fast and ruthless. And so, while I continue to immerse myself in and actually enjoy football, cricket will always have a special place in my heart.
This isn't just a story of me playing an insignificant game of cricket. It's a requiem, for my love of cricket, and thus a requiem for my childhood.
I went over to the football guys and did my best to keep the ball in the air using only feet and head. The football match didn't look like starting anytime soon. The sorting process was just beginning. I just didn't feel like football. I got a shout from my friend playing cricket. "Khel rahe ho kya?" (Will you play?)
I remember once when I was about 12-13, my sister came home with an acquaintance and he was far older than me. In his mid-20s, if my memory serves right. I was playing cricket on the street just in front of my house and he asked if he could bat a few balls. After playing a couple of deliveries awkwardly, he remarked on how it had been over 5 years since he had picked up a bat.
I was absolutely shocked and appalled. That day, that instant, I vowed to myself that I would never become like that - losing touch with the game I love and grow up to be a man who doesn't touch a cricket bat for years at a time. What sort of a man was that? And what kind of a life was that?
And now here I was, playing cricket after over 2 years of not playing. To be fair to myself, I haven't stopped playing altogether. Cricket has merely been superseded by football and basketball. I like their constant action and the fact that they are contact sports. Yet, I do feel like I have betrayed cricket, my first love.
And so I took to the field to play a 4-over game on grass. (The pitch and the outfield were identical, with soft grass. Good length balls were bouncing into the batsmen's forehead) I fielded first, watched as my team restricted the opposition to 15 runs in the allotted 4 overs, setting a target of 16. A tricky target.
Since I didn't bowl, citing the divine laws of gully cricket, I was given the opening slot in the batting line-up. The rest, as they (or maybe just I) say, is history. I coolly batted through the innings and clinched my team a thrilling last ball victory in the fading light, even as wickets tumbled at the other end. I did not make that up, I can find my friends to corroborate the story.
Needless to say, I was ecstatic. And for me, it was a throwback to childhood, a childhood dominated by cricket. The hot weather reminded me of summer days back home, playing often the whole day. Hide and seek in the afternoons and nights, cricket in the mornings and evenings.
Now I've lost touch with cricket. I've lost touch with my childhood. The date is 2nd April 2017. It was on 2nd April 2011 that India won the world cup at the Wankhede. It was my greatest moment following cricket. From then on, anything India did was compared to this dazzling achievement. We lost two consecutive test series away from home in the same year. Both humiliating 4-0 whitewashes. Who cares, we're world champions, I told myself. The
Thus cricket slowly became distant. Football took over my life. Today, I'm a football man through and through, casually checking cricket scores sporadically. My life has altered significantly. I have lived away from home for nearly 4 years. I am about to complete my 4th year at college. The 5th year will consist of active research and thinking about the future. College applications, job applications, statements of purpose, recommendation letters, the whole package. I will be preparing for the true outside world. I've been phased into it quite well, but now is where it truly begins. I'll have to start thinking of my own finance rather than asking my father. I'll have to truly start taking more independent decisions.
This was surely my last moment of cricketing glory, 6 years on from my greatest moment and the last time I could remember being completely engrossed by cricket. It was also perhaps the final, dying echo from my childhood, the last vestiges of which are finally being extinguished for good. I'm moving from the safe confines of a gentlemanly cricket world to a rough and tumble, abrasive football world. Here people try to deceive referees. They happily chop down another man while he is running and pretend they did nothing. It's fast and ruthless. And so, while I continue to immerse myself in and actually enjoy football, cricket will always have a special place in my heart.
This isn't just a story of me playing an insignificant game of cricket. It's a requiem, for my love of cricket, and thus a requiem for my childhood.