Cricket Mania

 So , last month The World Cup matches were held . All in India . In a cricket mad world . Where strangers on trains will eulogise on batting techniques , run scores and fielding . Where you can make instant friends , in banks , at roadside shops , at petrol pumps , just by mentioning the score of the days’ game . The usual greeting on “match days “ is “Score kitna hai ?” (What is the score ?)

That is followed by a detailed theory on the batting techniques of Kohli versus Maxwell , or Rohit Sharma’s captaincy versus Gavaskar . The older generation will sigh and lapse into “Ahh ! Those days !”

My neighbour upstairs has a three year old daughter . During the match days , their music , karaoke ,and raucous laughter is replaced with pin drop silence . In fact , there is silence all over the jungle too . Most matches finish in the hushed darkness of early evenings . The birds too , sit quietly on the tall tree branches , cock their heads and listen to the commentary , and the noise of the crowd in the background .

The jackals don’t howl , and parents forget to take their impatient kids to the park . All sit with hands cupping the faces , meals getting cold on the laps , mesmerised with the glowing screens. Till , a wicket falls , or a six or four is hit .

Then the world erupts into joyous Stone age-ish whoops . My upstairs neighbour runs across the length of the flat , screaming his lungs . Following his heavy tread , come a pitter patter of tiny feet following the parent , mildly alarmed , and a tiny voice pipes up “ Itna chillate kyun ho Papa ?” ( Why are you screaming thus Papa ) . Someone bursts crackers leftover from Diwali , someone else blows the conch shell , and someone rushes to the puja room to prostrate in front of silent deities .  The birds fly off , and the dogs bark , the pack joins in . A fall of a wicket halfway across the nation , transforms into and  a celebration across the jungle .

We are passionate about cricket . World Cup just made us go complete nuts .