A National Love Affair

Have you ever wanted to watch a match in the stadium but could not because it’s held in another city, far away from where you live? Have you ever been subject to one of the most torturously boring things, like watching a nail-biting cricket match alone?

Even if you got all the jazz – popcorn, both butter and caramel, pizza, some chocolate bars, a high definition TV channel, and a big lazy boy to loll on, watching cricket alone is almost sacrilegious in our country.

I realised that once when on my way to somewhere one evening, I walked out of the house and walked into a crowd. And it was no mean crowd. Even to someone who was not given to head counting, it must have been a 100 strong or more.

A 100 odd people on the road? Perhaps a movie shoot? A definite crowd puller and a usual sight in this part of the world. But there were no camera-crews, vanity vans, etc. I crossed the road and craned my neck to see what was going on. Even people in cars slowed down in curiosity.

“Excuse me, kya chal raha hai?” I asked one stranger.

But I needn’t have asked. I saw an electronics showroom and India’s biggest religion unfolding on a huge 70 inches plasma TV. Cricket. What else? And uproar erupted, and I was caught in what felt like a Mexican wave!

Suddenly I realised what it would be like to be in a stadium even though I had never been in one. Yes!
Looking closely at the configuration, I saw three rows of people. The first row neatly seated just outside the showroom, comprising of children and some women. The second row sitting along the pavement. And the third row, on their feet. There were tiffin boxes and office bags piled up neatly in a corner. I even noticed two people sharing a tiffin with those around them. The atmosphere was electric. The traffic on this very busy road was nearly inaudible – on regular days you would not be able to hear someone standing right next to you.

Cricket watching on streets in India is as common as playing cricket on streets. Pass by any electronics showroom and you will see people in groups trying to grab a few overs off their work hours. Legendary cricketers have grown up playing cricket in gullies and by-lanes and any available piece of land that’s enough to qualify as space. Three stumps drawn with a brick or a piece of charcoal on a wall and enough distance to bowl at least an under-arm delivery and the game begins!

Call it cricket mania, cricket fever, cricket fervor, or even fanaticism. Ridicule it for rigged matches, or rue the fact that it is the most obscenely sponsored sport in the country, or critique its new avatars and rules, yet nothing can change our love for the game. It’s a national love affair of sorts. Something that has only one language. And one soul!

I still was rooted to the spot, enjoying the buzz in the crowd almost as much as the match. The match was about to end and everyone was dancing, the sky glistening with fireworks already and the streets alive with mirth. The guy next to me was doing a shimmy and I wanted to do a jig too!

I walked back home sated after the match and knew I was going to be back here for the next one for sure.

And someone in the crowd had called Sachin Tendulkar God. My sentiments, exactly!