The walk from the Middle...

The October sky was clear with no rain in sight. A beautiful day for cricket. The few white clouds in the sky moved at a cow's pace. The clear skies and bright sunshine betokened less swing for the bowlers. A perfect day for batting first. We were batting first and it did not seem easy. I watched the game nervously from the players area next to the pavilion. How was that!! Was the cry. Scores of eyes turned and riveted on a slim figure in a spotless white shirt and black trousers standing behind the stumps. Time seemed to stop. The moment was eternal. The finger moved towards the heaven. Grimace on the face of the batsman said it all, he was declared out. A vociferous "Hurrayyyyyyyy!" broke the tranquility of the surroundings. The opponents rejoiced.

I got up. I was the next man in. I heard my heart pounding. I calmed myself by thinking about what Sachin Tendulkar might have felt like walking out in a jam packed Eden Gardens stadium with 200 thousand people looking at him. I picked up the hand gloves left in the sun for drying. Everyone was ready and waiting. Suddenly the atmosphere that was so serene a minute ago now seemed completely hostile. As I walked past the man at extra cover, towards the stumps, I heard the sledging. Till then I thought that sledging was a kin of Australia and Pakistan cricket teams. Then I realized that we inherit such things faster from television than our parents! I donned the helmet which seemed to restrict my vision. The grill of the helmet played the role of horse flaps.

As I comforted myself near the stumps, I saw that a huge white figure with a red cherry in his hand had already started running towards me. He had not even waited for me to take guard. I re-grouped quickly. A lot of things went on in my mind. The heart pounded faster. I thought the wicket keeper could have heard it. But he was too busy sledging. I was sweating because of the heat and more so because of the nervousness. The ball was released and I did not see it! A drop of sweat fell into the eye, it blurred the horizon. The ball skidded from the pitch and I fiddled my bat in front of the pad. I felt a lightening in the knee. The ball had hit the pad. Until I realized, the bowler was already three feet up in the air and busy appealing for the lbw. I should have got a rope with me to tie up the umpire's hands, I told myself and closed my eyes. The finger pointed to the heaven and I was declared out. I had hardly lasted for a minute. I remember even today, the distance could not have been any shorter but the walk back to the pavilion was the longest.