Beach Cricket

That was a Sunday. Sunday is always special for families - visible from both inside and outside. It is a day when you can wake up at ease and chew the tooth brush for as long as you want. It is a day when you can revise your newspaper and can ask for another cup of tea. The morning is longer though the day seems short. I remember in my childhood the streets of the modest localities of Bhubaneswar town would look more colorful as people would come out at their leisure and with their most relaxing attire. There would be a little crowd in fish market, and fragrance of cooked chicken curry from every third home. Sunday is the time for a haircut, to catch up with a favorite program or an old friend, or to draft or craft something.

That was a Sunday and that was my last day at Vishakhapatnam for that phase, as my wife was about to shift to Vijayawada after completing her tenure of PG course. She had rented a flat at beach road. Acknowledging that I won’t get any further chance to spend time on a beach in the near future I made it a point to spend the early morning hours on the beach. I am usually a late riser. And as we all know bad habits die hard. In spite of an inanimate and animate alarm (wife also tried to wake me up before she went for hospital duty) I could manage to get up past 8.30 AM and was on the beach by nine.

It was a relatively crowded beach than I expected. The thing which caught my attention was cricket by 10-15 teams on the beach within a stretch of one kilometer. In a scenario when many teams play in one ground, at times onlookers find themselves in a puzzling situation in identifying fielders’ affiliation. The position of the fielder may be right near the pitch of one team, but he may be a boundary line fielder for another team, whose wickets are three teams away. This scene reminded me of the playground in front my institute IGIDR, where children of all ages from poor localities of Santosh Nagar and Aarey Milk Colony play in many teams in a space ideally meant for one. I observed those children always with a serious note attributing such crowding to the dearth of playgrounds in our over-populated country and the consequences thereof. But here in Vishakapatnam beach what I was seeing was pure fun.

There are players of all sizes and shapes. So are the wickets, bats and balls. I could see people of all ages; young, very young, old, and very old. Older the people, shorter are their shorts. In every team there were players of all hairs – black, gray, white, full, partial and none. I could make out these were families enjoying cricket on the beach on a Sunday. The ladies of the family sometimes being bored with their male counterparts throughout the week pack them off to beach for a change. And I am sure as these husbands and brothers play cricket in the beach, the wives and sisters at home must be having coffee in the cracks of gossips– such gossips, whose resultant is a big zero. After coffee they must make some fried pakodas ready for these tired beach cricketers.

I was witnessing beach cricket for the first time. I never knew there is any sport other than volleyball which is played on beaches. So, cricket has spread from verandas and lanes to the beaches! This popularity of cricket made me weave arguments to make it as the National Game in place of hockey. I have often witnessed unknown people on roads and trains crack a conversation by asking an update on cricket scores. And people volunteer information on cricket statistics as if they were long time friends. In these days IPL cricket is emerging as an alternate career option, and quite a few local boys are getting chances. But the popularity of cricket comes with a price. The other sports suffer.

I would have gone further on my thoughts had my heart not vibrated. I realized that the mobile is on the left chest pocket. My wife was back from her morning duty at the hospital and I need to join her for breakfast. I gulped a few more handfuls of fresh air and walked across the road. There was a dog chasing a motor bike, which gave a scene as if the speed of the vehicle was purely on account of dog's rage.

As I prepare to move homeward, I passed by a young boy selling peanuts. No. Breakfast must be ready; wife must be waiting. On second thoughts; I could not resist the bliss of popping warm nuts on a breezy morning while rubbing their soft skins which would swirl away in the wind. I smiled to myself. Indeed if you are a foodie and your wife is a doctor, there can be no better vibrant marital life.

The boy was neat, dark and precise. By the time I drew out a two-rupee coin from my pocket my kulfi-cup shaped newspaper wrapped peanuts are ready. I was so preoccupied with cricket that before taking leave from the boy, I suggested him the following.

- Why don't you sell your stuff at the other side of the road and enjoy the game of cricket.

- Oh Sir, I don’t have a license to sell on the beach side of the road. Plus, I don’t like this game.

- Strange! Today almost a lakh people must be watching India-South Africa test match at Eden Garden stadium, Kolkotta.

- I know Sir, and couple of crores may be watching on TV.

- Then! Believe me, whether you like or not; cricket would soon replace hockey as the National Game.

The boy seem hardly impressed with my idea of making Cricket as the National Game and was busy in controlling the fire which was moving erratically like the chunri of a girl passing by the roadside. I continued my advocacies on cricket on the basis of popularity of the game – both in terms of playing and watching. Every unknown street of all unimportant towns of this country testifies the game at all even and odd hours of the day. And when we have an important match the busiest roads of metropolitan look deserted. After giving a patient ear to my arguments, the boy clarified,

- So, Sir, you are for cricket as National Game as it has the maximum visibility.

- Precisely so. I asserted with a smile.

- Then let crow be made our National Bird.

On this crafty remark, obviously, I was speechless. My right thigh vibrated this time. The phone call saved me from further discussion, which of course I would not have prefered after being completely outwitted by the boy.

I walked fast back home with mixed feelings.