The husband can be found at peak family bonding time over the weekend, sitting gape mouthed in front of the television managing to effectively tune out the incessant whining of the spawn of his womb which is insisting that he needs to be taken to the mall, right now this very minute or we will need to spend our retirement money on his therapy once he reaches tortured adulthood where he counts all the deprivations he suffered through his childhood which led to him…well whatever.
The Kolkata Knight Riders in fancy blue and gold, play against the Royal Challengers in Red and Gold. I quite like the uniforms. I like gold in general, but not when it comes to jewellery. Anyone who has been blinded by my gold bags reflecting the sun would vouch for that. I used to be a passionate cricket buff in a previous avatar when I had endless summer vacations stretching in front of me, and no library membership. I would even sit through five days of test cricket. The mother would have to occasionally turn me onto my side to dust the sofa under me. I switched allegiance to football during a world cup when I discovered it was much more exciting to see grown men running around in shorts, and also the fact that football matches got over earlier than cricket test matches. This was the preinternet era. Pre telephone for me too, we only managed to get a telephone instrument into our home when I was out of college.
I took up my love for cricket again when I began dating the man I eventually married when I realised he was a slave to the game. Once I’d ensured he wasnt getting rid of me except through a lengthy divorce procedure, I gave up all pretence again. I find cricket much more exciting now. One doesnt need to spend an entire day comatose in front of the television to figure out how a match is headed. Three hours and we can all drown our sorrows in draught beer, or head out and whoop it up in celebration. Which is the real point of all these matches isnt it? The post match celebrations.
I would be hardpressed to name many of the current cricketers too. MS Dhoni. Ishant Sharma. Sanath Jayasuriya. Shane Warne. I’m thinking, I’m thinking, cmon, there’s a reason why brain cells atrophy and die, and thats called lack of use. My brain cells associated with cricket info have had a decent burial too. The child doesnt care too much for cricket. He seems sensible. He watches Superhero movies as a hobby. He claims cricket is a waste of time because they are only running between the stumps and doing nothing else. Completely agree. Rather pointless. They could at least run all over the ground and give us some entertainment. And wear some nice shorts while theyre at it,