The Match

It was in my third standard I got an opportunity so dear that it'd stay with me for year's to come. It was my vacation and my grandparents had come home. I didn't have any friends in the neighborhood as it was my new house. Each year they arrived with sweets and many other things to eat. Grandma would also tell me bedtime stories when they'd come. It was special and I loved each vacation just because of that. But that year they also bought something else along with them. My Grandpa was a basketball coach and he usually got tickets to every sport's event that's being held in the state. This time he had two tickets to the test match between India and Pakistan which was being placed at the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium in that time. He gave the tickets to my dad. It seemed as if Grandpa wasn't interested in cricket as much as he did with a dedication to basketball.

Even though it had only been 2 years since we'd bought the television and started watching cricket, it had grown on me. The joy that you get when you watch your favourite team go through all the hardships and finally win the game is just immense. Maybe the excitement was because I thought that the world would see my face up live or maybe because I thought I could meet in person the stars of the game that I'd looked upon all these years and which has got so close to my heart. I couldn't care about anything else and I got all ready for it. I still remember mom making me wear the best dress she could find even though dad suggested that she shouldn't as it'd be crowded. But as stubborn as all moms are, she made me wear the best. 

We arrived at the stadium about one hour early to find a huge pile of people trying to buy tickets. Many of them looked tired and as if they were waiting there for weeks. I saw guards trying to make the people stand in a queue but failing miserably. Nothing seemed to break the spirit of the fans to watch their team up live. We realised that we were lucky to get the tickets early. The Guard's seemed to check each and every person with no exception. They scrutinized shirt's, pockets, pants and everywhere they thought people would hide a potential weapon. They also checked me as if I were some sort of criminal. We passed the entrance and came to the checking gates. Two of the guards carried guns, which seemed to keep the peace at the checking gates. It looked like no-one wanted to get shot in the chest. That'd obviously be a stupid way to die.

The tension loosened as we got in the stadium. We passed through many rows of red seats until we found a good spot. Some seats were damaged and other's were dirty though. We seated ourselves in the place we thought of as the best. On our topside was the skybox, but though it looked good to be in there, not many people were in it. The seats were filling in fast and in a matter of moments, we found ourselves shouting alongside an enthusiastic crowd who cheered and roared as the teams came in. My dad smiled as he saw me shout too, but my voice didn't seem to be heard in all the uproar. I saw many different people. Some people had painted their faces. Some were dancing and singing. There was a huge digital screen on our left side where the match was being played live. It also showed the audience frequently. When the screen showed us I'd wave my hand to see me in it. Everything at that moment was so cool. Dad went and bought juice and biscuits as the match continued. 

Usually, I'd want to pee when I'd go to watch a movie at the theatre, but that day I think excitement overtook my bodily functions. I had no choice but to watch and cheer for India who was winning the match. A few seats in front of us were left empty. I think it's because people wanted to catch the ball if the batsman hit a six. The batsman was most probably likely to hit a six towards the left and right sides of the pitch and it seemed less likely that he'd hit straight.

I finished my biscuits and juice and was waiting eagerly for something to happen. Like all, I did want the ball to come to my side. I did want India to score a sixer. And it happened. The bowler threw the perfect bowl for a forward sweep. The Indian batsman flung the bat with serious strength which sends the ball soaring high. The ball flew straight towards me. I was scared and froze in shock. I hadn't experienced anything like this before. I couldn't move. The ball continued it's projectile with great speed and landed with a 'thud' on the seat in front, bounced off and rolled down on the concrete. My dad tried to catch it, but he missed it.. All of a sudden I was free to move. I jumped up to get the ball as it was rolling forward on the concrete underneath the seat's left empty.

The ball rolled towards a guy who was one row in front. He got the ball and I couldn't, even though all the effort. I thought he'd keep the ball but he threw it back to the field. It was only later I got to know we shouldn't keep the ball to ourselves. I saw his joy as he threw the ball back. He was smiling afterwards till towards the entire end it seems. He must have really felt awesome. The feeling of holding a ball played in an international match, that'd be great I think. After a while, my dad suggested that we'd leave before it gets late and crowded with traffic. I agreed as I wanted to pee too.

I didn't know if India had won the match. Even if India didn't win the match I was sure for certain it had won the whole crowd over.

We reached home and my mom greeted me with a smile and asked me how was the match. I told her how I nearly got the ball. I asked if she'd seen me on TV, and she said that she'd seen both of us on TV. I was so happy about it that I couldn't wait to see if my friends and classmates recongised me and say "Hey, I saw you on TV yesterday?". I thought I'd be famous in school. The next day my dad told me that India had won that match we'd seen after he read the newspaper. I was happy. I went to school all excited and proud. But no-one seemed to have noticed me I guess. I thought to myself, maybe it's because I'd been shown on TV for only a few seconds. Maybe they didn't see me in the match as they might have gone to pee, or they didn't care to look at the audience.

Many years have passed since that event and I still seem to remember that event. It's almost been 17 years since then. I asked my mom recently about the match. She doesn't remember much it seems, she just recalled that we had gone for some Match back in the day. Dad also remembers vaguely and grandpa doesn't remember anything. It only seemed special to me I guess. I still remember going into my dad's Splendor bike to see the match like yesterday. Who knows if you've seen me on television while you were watching the match. Who knows if I was even shown on television and if my mom had just lied to me so that I'd stay happy. All I now know is that I'll probably never get to know anything about it.