I told Omi to stop praying too much. A draw would be fine. Ganguly probably
did not know the odds. The worst would be if Australia did score the runs.
'161/3,' Omi read Australia's score at tea, which coincided with our own break.
'Let's clean up the shop, guys. The match gets over in a few hours. We may
have some customers,' I said. 'A draw is fine. We will take the Australians another
time.' Ish reluctantly picked up the mop.
Day 5 - Post-tea
The Indian team must have mixed something special in their tea. Australia
came back and continued to cruise at 166/3. Then came five deadly overs that
included a hattrick from Harbhajan Singh. Next stop, Australia 174/8. In eight
runs, half of the Australian team was gone.
'Ish, don't fucking stand in front of the TV,' I said. But Ish wasn't standing,
only jumping.
'Fuck your statistics man, fuck the probability,' Ish shouted in jubilation. I
don't like it when people insult mathematics, but I gave Ish the benefit of doubt.
You are allowed a few celebratory curses when you witness history.
Pretty soon, the last two batsmen were scalped as well. Harbhajan, the Surd
that Ish kissed on screen (and left saliva marks all over), took six wickets, and
India won the match in the most spectacular way ever.
In Eden Gardens, every placard, every poster and anything combustible
besides people was on fire. It was impossible to hear the TV commentary, as the
crowds roared everytime an Indian team member's name was announced.
Ish stood tall, his hands on his hips and looked at the screen. I could see
genuine love in his eyes. Every now and then, I had seen Ish watch the men in
blue as if he wished he was one of them. But today, he didn't have any of his own
regrets. I think more than wanting to be them, he wanted them to win. He saw
Harbhajan jump and jumped along. He clapped when Ganguly came to accept the
trophy.
'Two balls quickly please, we have a match,' a boy plonked a fifty-rupee note on
the counter. The first customer of the great Indian Cricket Season had arrived.
I folded my hands and looked at the sky. Thank you God, for the miracles you
bestow on us.
'We have come to offer solutions, not just sell some balls,' I started.
I had delivered my first line perfect. The preparations until two last night better
be worth it, I told myself. We were in the principal's office in the Kendriya
Vidyalaya. The office wasin a poor state, with rickety furniture and dusty
trophies. Like most government offices and buildings old files piled up high on
several cupboards. The lady principal and six teachers sat around a semicircular
wooden table. It must be miserable to work here, I thought. It must be miserable
to work for anyone else, I thought again.
'Go on,' the principal said, as my pause for effect became too long.
'So we have a district-level champion player who can design a package based
on your needs and budgets,' I pointed at Ish and every teacher looked at him.
I passed out sheets that estimated the school's monthly needs based on eight
hundred students. I had them laser printed at a computer shop for three rupees a
page. A peon brought samosas and tea for everyone.
'How much will this cost?' the administrative head said.
'We did some calculations. Your average cost will be ten thousand a month,' I
said.
avery
(avery)
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