Skip to main content

A Schmaltzy Emotion called Cricket

Cricket just got better! Activity by in association with

Picture sourced from Google
O.K. for starters, I am not a cricket fan and I certainly do not think Sachin is God. I am sure some of you out there would have already closed the window/tab and moved on to the next post. Now that they are gone, I am writing this post for the tolerant lot, mostly women, who have been bullied for not knowing the ABCs of cricket and for not following the game as closely as the other sex.
I was 10 and my brother 7. I was the eldest kid in the family and I had more cousin brothers than sisters. Cricket was their life blood to say the least.  A summer vacation never was complete without innumerous games of playing with the ‘exam-pad-turned-bat’ and a worn out tennis ball. They even played with stones when the ball crossed the threshold and cracked Sushila Auntie’s kitchen glass. When it rained, they still played cricket. The concept of book cricket awed the cricket-blind me too. I used to persuade my brothers to come play with me. I showed them how to paint a window; they called me a ‘silly’ painter and went on to collect sticks for stumps. They constantly threw brickbats at me, wait, isn’t that an ironically sympathetic statement I just used? Well, that was just the beginning.
Television was a boon, or so I thought. Cartoon was heaven and ‘Tom and Jerry’ was absolutely the only God I knew at that time. Just like how every commercial movie dons a villain, there came one in my life too. The antagonist was gory in nature, the kind which made me crawl under the blanket and wish I were in another world, the kind which made time move slower than ever, the kind which made me feel lifeless, the kind which made my every summer vacation a horror - Test cricket. Man, did I get to watch the men in white playing all the day all through my vacation? Yes. My dad never let my finger touch even the remotest part of the TV remote. I was desolate and I used to cry. Mom never came to rescue because she has been there and done that, the exact same thing as me. My little wicked brothers laughed and giggled and cheered and mumbled as the cricket matches showed less or no mercy on people like me. When my parents saw my desperation and hatred, they decided I do something and made me join handwriting classes. Seriously, how cruel can that get?  
Time went by, I went on to become someone who hated holidays dreading the sound of ‘Tok……………..Tok…. tkk…..tok…” , that sound which comes when the ball meets the bat, I really dreaded that.
Time went by, I grew up. I was matured enough to understand that none of my brothers, not even my dad did it intentionally. They were addicted to this game and all that was associated with the game. They loved it so passionately that none of the following list ever mattered to them when they are watching/playing the game – a burning house, a baby crying, a lonely kid, cockroaches flying, stale food, dogs howling, storm coming, homework pending, and the list goes on.
I am part of the gang now. Not officially, but I have come to love one form of cricket which is lively, entertaining and makes it easy for people to follow the game. The 20-over matches – T20 and IPL are definitely my type of cricket as I still hate the sight of test matches and I am hated for saying so.
Picture sourced from Google

So, thank you for making the form of cricket I love more interesting. I love the scoreboard graphics, the powerful video streaming, the spider cameras, the commentators, the colorful players, the interaction with on-field players and not to forget the witty advertisements you endorse. I can now look forward to a holiday, I can take a sick day off from office, and I can even ignore the boiling milk when I hear “Keep calm Kanna Keep calm, watch Pepsi IPL on Star Sports.Commmm”




  1. Super :) hehe...


  2. Very Honest Expression :-) Mention of exam pad cricket bat, tennis ball and the stone replacement - all took me back memory lane :-) I wasnt a fan of Tom and Jerry, but neither a fan of Test Cricket. However a big fan of your writing :-) Looking forward to more.

    1. Hello!! Thanks for dropping by :) I am glad you like my writing :D
      Keep visiting!


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Make Up and Me (Not Me)

They say people who don't know to dance have two left feet. Although, I might have two left feet myself, what is more interesting is I might actually have two left hands.

Okay, I understand that's funny but here is why:

If you are a girl or a boy or a boy who looks like a girl, you would probably know that it is a thing now to have a makeup blog or vlog or youtube channel in your name. I bumped into this world of cosmetics, beauty blogs and tutorials only a few months ago. For those who don't know about it, let me tell you, it is a crazy, ruthless and unbelievable world.

Heard of these? Snail slime masks, Placenta hair masks, Seaweed bathing creams, Microblading.... and endless other such insane stuff. These are insane but quite popular among beauty enthusiasts and they even swear by the benefits of such products.

These are otherwise cringe-worthy products in my world. I use gramflour+tumeric face mask, Coconut oil hair mask and  a normal, cheap bathing soap and my skin i…

Ever Yours, Vincent.

Never in a thousand years did I think I would be obsessed with a late, delusional psycho who was also an exceptional artist and a noteworthy character with a peculiar interest for romance.
My affair started around 8 years back; a time when I had started writing and blogging for the first time. I visited this pop-up museum of contemporary art which showcased Vincent Van Gogh’s choicest documentaries. Many of his famous paintings were also on display. That was the day I fell in love, with his art, with the way he loved, with the way he expressed himself before he fell into life’s inevitable trap.
The beautiful yellowish hues that dominated his paintings, the sunflowers, the potato eaters and the starry night which comes alive in my dreams every night. Those letters he wrote his brother Theo with care, love and a pinch of attitude. That unconditional brotherly love, that aimless love he showed his friend and mentor Gauguin, that love he showed the random women he saw and painted, that lo…

Memories of...#26DaysOfSummer #A-ZChallenge

I don't know if this one counts for a poem. My rhyming sense failed miserably as emotion took over. A stinging emotion called nostalgia. A nostalgia which is synonymous to summer itself and a lot of other sweet things.

Here goes:

What is your favorite mango memory? share it with me here, won't you? :)