18
I reached the Raj High School playground at 6 in the evening. I
saw a l few teenage students on court. We smiled as we acknowledged
each other. I asked for the ball. A student passed it to me. I was
touching the dusty and dotted-rubber texture of the ball after ages. I
took a shot.
Chhaak.The soft sound of the ball going through the net without i
ouching the ring told me I still had it in me.
A few students clapped.
'Where’s St. Stephen’s?’ one boy said. He had noticed my college
T-shirt.
I looked at the boy. He seemed clueless about my fancy college. I
had been like him not too long ago. I told him about my alma mater.
‘English college?’ he said.
‘Completely. That too high-class English,’ I said and laughed.
‘I will never make it.’
‘I entered through the sports quota. Maybe you can too.’
I dribbled the ball. The thumping sound matched my heartbeat.
‘I’m not that good,’ he said.
I threw the ball at him. He caught it reftexively.
‘Let’s see. I’m Madhav, by the way.’
‘Parth,’ he said and dribbled the ball.
I tackled him as he ran across the court. He was good, but not
experienced. It took me twenty seconds to take the ball back from him.
I took a shot even though the ring was quite far. I missed. Parth
collected the ball and took a shot. He scored. I high-fived him.
The last of the sunlight fell on the court. It cast long shadows of
the already tail players, I stared at the darting shadows, unable to focus
on the game.
'What?' Parth said, He had scored another basket.
‘Nothing,’ I said, blinking rapidly.
He passed me the ball. I caught it by habit, still lost in thought. I