No one in my family has been a cricket fan. My father is perhaps the only man in India to dislike cricket - 'it makes the entire nation unproductive, we cant afford it' is his frank and honest opinion. My mother used to watch it, but not anymore. My brother does not watch television (which has been the cause of concern for us for a long time - which self respecting teenager will not watch television ?). My sister has never been interested in anything but her mirror so thats a non-issue. As for me, the only time I used to watch cricket is when my examinations were near and I needed a distraction from the stress. Rahul 'the wall' Dravid was a source of inspiration, the way he stuck it out inspired me to stick it out in the sleepy nights studying my engineering books. Not to mention that I had a huge crush on him, he could do no wrong. Still can't.
So when I met and subsequently married Harsh, an avid fan of the sport, I was in a dilemma if you will. Now I am not a sports buff, I am not very athletic myself and don't play any sport, so a little difficult for me to watch sports. I don't get it. So watching games with Harsh was a difficult thing for me. I hated the process of staring at the TV or even live games in the stadium, but enjoyed Harsh's enthusiasm. Eventually, the enjoyment faded and I gave up watching the games with him, much to his disappointment.
Then it happened. Unexpectedly and it caught us off guard. 2011 was the year the Cricket World Cup to be held. I did not show any interest in it at all, initially. All of a sudden, India reaches the quarter finals and is playing Australia. I am in office and google streams the scores of the match. My team mate asks me what I think of India's chances. A true Indian that I am, I wish to give my opinion on matters I know not much about nor care much about. I say we will lose, its Australia, the 3 times champion who know how to defend titles. He is miffed by my response and declares that he hated my guts. I understand. Cricket is known to invoke that kind of passion in Indians. Its in the DNA. We go on to win the quarter finals and are to meet arch rivals Pakistan in the semi-finals. In the next couple of days, I wake up from my 'non-cricket loving' slumber and rub my eyes. I finally wake up to the euphoria that is cricket.
The love and enthusiasm Harsh has for the game, finally made its way to my heart. I wake up at the un-Godly hour of 4 in the morning, even convince my boss to allow me to live stream the match in my office while I am working on developing a prediction model for some data. I wear blue, even bleed blue. All through the electrifying match, I message about the match, pray for players and wish for Pakistan's failure. My prayers and wishes (and those of 1.2 billion people) are answered and India beat Pakistan to reach the finals. My office mates ask me what's the fuss about ? I cannot really explain what an India - Pakistan cricket match is all about. Do you guys go to war over loss in a match ? - my manager asks me. No, I say, cricket does not cause wars, it replaces wars. Its 'bat'tling it out on the 'field' while grenade like balls fly around and brave men in blue and green give it their all. Its a game and yet so much more. The commander's in chief of both nations are present to observe and negotiate on other matters. A billion hearts skip a beat when a certain Sachin Tendulkar is in trouble or makes a shattering statement. A certain MS Dhoni is a man who is ruthless and passionate at the same time, who has the undivided support of one and all. Its a gentleman's game and thats how it was played.
As I write this on the eve of the World Cup 2011 Final where India will 'bat'tle it out with Sri Lanka, I find myself making my way to Toronto, to be with Harsh who is posted here on an assignment. I have asked my manager to excuse me - 'I know we have a deadline, I know we have clients to please, I know the urgency of the project we have at hand, I know how much there is to be done, but the sheer thought of watching the Finals without Harsh is painful, so let me go' is what I tell him. My manager who has never seen me make such passionate and dramatic statements for anything other then data models is amused and lets me go. Harsh and our friend Jatin are out looking for pre-game supplies and I am at home, waiting for the morning. Our dog Kashmir is lying next to me and wondering what the fuss is about. So as we wait for the morning when the Indians will take on the Lankans, all I can think of is how excited Harsh is about my recent transformation towards the game. His eyes glow with pride every time I look at a cricket related news article and discuss the game with him. He indulges my stupid questions with good nature and seems to fall in love with me all over again. He smiles that amazing smile of his every time I say how amazing I think MS Dhoni is as a captain. He is probably thanking the God's that I finally was bitten by the bug. Actually, I am too.
Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts
