Age 7- Class II

Cricket.

I love to play cricket. Everybody does. There is so much magic in this game that you just can't help falling in love with it. Being the youngest in a group of good cricketers- cricket was no more a game for me... It was a challenge.

Just besides my residence, we have a nice field- it wasn't very big but I believe it was always enough to play cricket on. Though I never told anyone, I would always be internally upset with Ramen Da and Jethai for using a part of the field for farming purposes!! But, I realized cricket is best played under space-constraints for it makes you fight for every single run.

Our stumps were the small pillars of the garage in my cousin's place. A line in brilliant red was drawn with a broken piece of brick- it marked the bails on the stumps. We had space on the leg side while the off side was blocked by a wire-mesh. To hit a boundary we had to hit the ball hard - straight down the ground - oh! even Sachin would be proud to see the upright elbows while we played the on-drives to perfection at times!

But life wasn't very easy on the cricket field for me. I was the youngest one in a group consisting of Rishi (my bro), Dabs (my cousin), Ramen Da, Uttam and yea, Mintu Da. Mintu Da is my neighbour and by relation, he is my uncle though his age defied the normal "oldness" we associate with uncles!

Mintu Da had the "nakhra" about him- he would always create a fuss before coming to play. I could never really understand why. We all had to call him so many times before he showed up- You could think we were calling a Glen McGrath!

Anyway, our bright cosco ball got lost when Uttam hit a rash shot over the top which ofcourse meant one thing - OUT. "Blinder"- we used to call him. We were left with a hard tennis ball, the one which kinda really hurt when it hit the body. I came in to bat.

I can still remember Mintu Da standing like a tower in the bowlers' crease. For a moment or two, I was nervous. He was much taller than me - I knew where he was going to aim at : my skull.
The fielders were brought closer. I could feel the heat. Everyone was waiting to pick up a catch. Mintu Da ran hard and banged the ball in the middle of the pitch.

WHish! I could almost hear the ball zoom by the side of my ear as I ducked. Next ball : Fast. Same place. Same result. The ball was aimed at my head- I couldn't do anything. The fielders were all clapping, waiting for me to play a awkward jumping shot and get out. The next ball was over pitched. I didn't lose a breath and smashed it hard. The effort I put in the shot was a sort of denial to be bounced out- a mixture of cricket and anger!... It hit the middle of the bat, the cover drive was played to near perfection!

CLack: my jethai's flower pot were reduced to smithreens!!!

After a mini break (consisting of trying to hide earth from the broken pot!), we resumed. I had to face Dabs next. He also tried his best to throw his bouncers, I somehow managed to play the overs out. Smashed two boundaries, a "three" and took a few runs too! Rishi was a trickster with his wily off breaks, I lolled up an easy catch back to the bowler while trying to flick it down the legside. But I wasn't out as yet - being the youngest allowed me the priviledge of playing for two wickets.. I hated to get out, really. I guess I still have the same "problem".

Being an "elle-belle", which meant I was too young to play - made me furious at times. I wanted to prove myself, that I was old enough to play with everyone, that I could fend off the bouncers, that I didn't have to "mercied" upon. That day, I did it. I stood up and did it that day.

It is also mentionable here that I picked up my first wicket in the following days. It was that of Uttam. He gave a leading edge back to me - I took a clean catch under the watchful eyes of every player. The wonderful feeling of grabbing that catch followed by a loud cheer from everyone still lingers on my mind. Uttam created a ruckus - he couldn't believe getting out in an "elle-belle" bowler's delivery!

After so many years, Sitting in the verandah of my home when I go back from hostel, these memories seem to take me back to those times. When we would all be together. Now, time and space have created distances between all of us, the great players... I wonder when we will be playing again, if ever... will I ever get that feeling of nostalgia after successfully fending off the bouncers....I wonder.

The cricket in our "campus" was a teacher for me. In life, you remember an event when it teaches you something - there is a lesson hidden in every event we face in our life. That is what we call experience, isnt it?

Cricket in our gully taught me too. I didn't realize it then, though now that I think of it, it taught me to - Fight. Fighting against the odds. Facing the bouncers.

Dad says "Life is not a bed of roses... You have to fight it out..."

what do you think?