Last week, I got a call from my building friends to buy a cricket team for the tournament to be held in our complex. It was modelled like a premier league series. I readily agreed to buy a team as it would mean a lot to the enthusiastic kids. I always had sport genes in my blood. My team consisted mainly of small kids with a mean age of 18 years. I was the only odd 'man' in the team. We were in all 7 teams. I named my team as 'Vikings'. The banners and t shirts were designed for each of the teams. The DJ was called in with his big boom boxes. The neutral umpires and a commentator were arranged from outside. It was like a big festival. The kids were free for the week end and were running about in excitement. There were food stalls and gola counters too.
Our T shirt colour was red and our supporters swarmed the stands with a splash of red carrying placards of our team. Chaitra and her gang were the most vociferous supporters, They would also indulge in sledging the opposite team members! But everything was in good spirits and fun. I had no great hopes about my team but the kids gelled as a unit under my able guidance and won 5 out of 6 league matches. It was a heady feeling for me. We were on cloud 9! We were a rookie team and yet we reached the semi finals,topping the league stage. It was a praise worthy performance. The spectators were always rooting for us and this result gave them a new high.
I danced uninhibitedly to the tunes of the DJ and everybody danced in unison. My dancing Prithvy too, was dressed in red colours, he did not understand the significance of matches but used to clap when the ball used to come to me. Mansi and Our moms too supported us. After all , team pride was at stake. After fall of every wicket, I used to kiss Chaitra in the stands. It was all unabashed fun. My cousin Nirav and his family had specially come for the week end to cheer my team.
Chaitra is my die hard fan and expects me to win all the time. She is very attached to me and can never bear to see me lose. She frequently accompanies me during my tennis tournaments to cheer me up. She is my lucky mascot.
The semi finals began and my kids started feeling the jitters. They simply wilted under pressure and we lost the semi finals. I was cool with the outcome and took it sportingly. Reaching the semis was a stupendous task. I was happy for them. The kids were dejected though.
After the customary hand shakes, my eye scanned the stands to see Chaitra who was nowhere to be seen. I went home and saw her crying in Mansi's lap. Tears rolled down her chubby cheeks and she asked me, Papa! Why did your team lose? and resumed her wailing again.
I did not answer her question and I quietly reclined on the sofa.
I could have told her that I was out of touch with Cricket for last 20 years, I was ageing now, I am into professional tennis, I had been up since 6 am that day to attend to my hospital patients. I had millions of legit and valid excuses. I had no time for net practice either.
Mustering courage, I told her 'Chaitra! The other team played better'.
I cannot hide the truth and fool her. She has to face certain realities in life. I'm a doctor and my playing field is the hospital. I have to battle against illnesses and alleviate the sufferings of the patients, I was born for that. Those victories matter to me.
She got the drift of my talk and wiped her tears. She wished me better luck for next year.
We slowly retreated to our rooms with our heads held high.
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