Love Story 2020

“Cold feet. I think that’s what they are called. And right now.. I have two of those. I’m sorry.. I just can’t do this. Bye..”

I wrote these words on the back of an envelope and slid it under her door. And then I ran away. Where? Why? I couldn’t have missed the final match of the series.. could I? I had booked my tickets over the net and cut the payment of the light-man instead. That explains why no one saw me fleeing from the scene of the marriage. She isn’t my first love.. Cricket is.. coz, I dunno why.. she gets kinda’ boring sometimes.. but Cricket nevverrr does..

So like I am sitting here in my club-house seat like I had always dreamt of.. Plush upholstery, spectacular view, great music, conditioned air, cheerleaders dancing a few feet from me, another spectacular view, et. aliae. Till now, I had only watched matches seated in the back alleys. I was actually living my dream today!

All’s set and the match begins. First ball.. batsman flicks it to his leg and mid-on gets hold of it with a brilliant dive, but can’t save a run from being taken. The entire club house nods in acknowledgement of the outstanding effort and some even clap.

Next delivery, ball swings away, a hit and a miss.. another round of “Awww”s and “Ooooh”s.

Next delivery, the ball swings back in and that’s all I can see before my phone begins to ring and I have to frantically search my pockets so as to turn it off. One guy points to a little sign that says “Please switch off your mobiles. Thank you.”

I am rather flustered and almost blushing with embarrassment when I notice that the entire crowd is outraged and infuriated with something. That inswinger had wrapped the batsman on his pads and he was given out LBW. Shit! Coz of my stupid phone I missed the first wicket. “Who the heck was it”, I thought, and saw that she was calling. I turned my mobile off and looked at the scoreboard with a touch of dismay.

1/1.. Why does that sound familiar? Oh ya.. I remember, it’s her birth date.. the 1st of Jan. the day (or was it night) when I had ran into her at Toscas’ and met her for the first time..

Anyways.. What a silly coincidence.. she calls and just then, a wicket falls.. maybe that’s why they make you switch off your phones in here.

The captain decided that he wanted to utilize the powerplays to the hilt, and sent a pinch-hitter up the order. The guy hits a four the first delivery, a six on the other and then takes a single to retain strike.

12/1.. The second time we met.. I was giving a guitar demo at a music store and she was out there buying ‘Coldplay’. She loved my voice, took my number and autograph on the CD- “A Rush of Blood To The Head”. Oh Boy! It sure was!


The pinch-hitter resumes, it’s an outswinger, runs it down to third-man, takes a single. The other opener is a seasoned campaigner. He understands that the pitch has some bite in it and plays with considerable amount of caution. He pushes and prods for the next three deliveries and on the fourth, plays it with soft hands and takes a quick single. The pinch-hitter on the other end has been patient long enough, he throws caution to the winds and heaves the ball miles into the sky. The keeper gloves it, and the scoreboard reads:

14/2.. Oh.. my.. god.. Valentine’s Day.. The day she had called me up and said she was quitting her job. Now that would’ve been an absolute tragedy.. coz as hard as I find to admit it, she gets a heavier pay-packet than I do.. way heavier.. I ran to her office.. called her down, took her to the nearest cafe.. tried to talk her out of it.. but she wouldn’t budge. She kept saying “It’s just too demeaning a job for me answering stupid calls all day..” Not knowing what to do, I just picked up the guitar hanging on the wall behind her, and sang “The Scientist” for her.. and ending on “You don't know how lovely you are..” I proposed to her.. she agreed.. and I understood, she wasn’t quitting..


The batsmen changed ends, another pinch-hitter sent, a four was struck, another rash shot and caught at third man.

18/3.. the day I met her parents over dinner.. the day they shunned me from ever laying a foot in their house until I got a ‘safe’ job. The day she almost cut her wrist.. I mean she did, but not completely.. and I had to run half a mile carrying that bleeding angel in my arms..

Play resumes… A stunning Yorker.. another wicket..

18/4.. after working for a month as an attendant at a music store I showed her parents my first paycheck. And they agreed. Maybe it was or was it not.. I don’t exactly remember.. but it was pretty close to being labeled as the happiest day of my life...


The captain walks out.. carefully examines the pitch, makes a few marks and he is set. Defends the first, and takes a single at the second delivery. The umpire raises his arm half way along his side. It was a No-Ball. Free Hit. The crowd goes berserk. The batsman makes room and gives the ball a mighty thwack! FOUR!!

But a free hit is like a heady shot of vodka.. it doesn’t come without a hangover. He tries his luck once again, but this time, caught at mid-wicket.

24/5.. The day I found out about her previous affair.. a very serious previous affair.. the day I almost regretted meeting her..


The captain is facing now. Another veteran at the other end. They strategize and decide to play safe. Keep running it down to the third man or into the gaps and take singles on each delivery of the over. The last delivery.. veteran tries to steer it down to the third man.. gets a slight nick.. keeper lunges forward and takes a good low catch.

29/6.. the day we went to get our engagement rings.. and had a huge fight over the size of the diamond she wanted on hers.. the fight was huge enough to almost make the entire point of buying the rings, pointless. Insecurities were revealed, money matters tossed up, pasts unearthed, and things like “just coz you earn more doesn’t mean you have to show it off by buying a costlier ring for me” were said.

I was almost in tears now. I took out my phone and switched it on. It bleeped 12 times as numerous messages flooded my inbox and were waiting there to be read. I opened the images folder and checked the date when we had got engaged.

31st July.

Of all the events that had occurred all through the year, this was one you could never miss. 29/6 was what the score board read and my heart was pounding so hard now, that it almost threatened to break my rib cage apart and leap out of my chest. The bowler bowled a full-toss and the batsman hit it from absolutely the sweetest part of his bat. The sound almost sent me into a trance and I thought.. “Hah! 33/6.. their aint’ no date like that, is it!”

That was when I saw, that the sweeper cover had covered an unbelievable amount of distance and had actually stopped the ball from crossing over. And then seeing the batsmen crossing over for the third, he cannoned the ball to the wicketkeeper who effortlessly collected it and clipped off the bails in one smooth, swinging motion. It was obvious the batsman was short of his ground and hence the 3rd umpire was beckoned, to decide whether the ball had crossed the boundary or not. The replays showed.. it didn’t. The fielder had made a clean stop. The score now.. was

This was going off limits.. I lost all my senses and hollered “BLOODY HELL!” and seething with outrage, I kicked the chair in front of me real hard. An old man was occupying it and he fell down by the force of the impact. I didn’t know it then, but he was actually the CEO of the firm organizing the series. People ran in from all corners to help him get up, and two guards rushed and grabbed me by the scruff of my neck. The entire box was looking at me in horror, and one portly figure dressed in a suit walked up to me and asked.. “Do you have the faintest clue who this honorable Gentleman is?”

I shot back: “He might have pimped your mom but that’s all I care ‘bout him!” and impulsively or I don’t know why, but I spat on his face.

That was it. The tempers that were already flaring because of the imbecilic performance of our team, got incensed and almost everyone present there, without exception, tried me out as a kicking or punching bag. I had absolutely no idea as to how long they kept kicking me, although I do remember.. that my phone was lying an arm’s length away from me, and amidst those hovering legs and ankles, I could see her name flashing on its screen.

Now here’s a slice of life for all of you who have never been through a public beating, or never had any form of brain-numbing pain inflicted upon you.. Initially, the pain increases, then it peaks, and just when it reaches a point where you feel that every single blood vessel in your body is gonna’ burst open, you suddenly rise above the pain.. all these mundane things that we scurry after in life lose their importance, and only the realization of your real pain remains..

I had always dreamt of becoming a cricketer one day. I had heckled my parents to get me into cricket coaching since I was about eight years old. I always cursed them for not providing me with premium sporting gear. I had never understood the fact that they were going through a severe crunch back then and just so that they could arrange my school and coaching fee, they had aborted my would’ve-been-brother. I could never achieve my dream. I had decided as a kid, I would never forgive them for it. I kept punishing people for it all my life. Actually… I was never very good at cricket. But there was one thing that I was indeed good at.. and that was always thinking ‘I’, ‘I’, ‘I’ and ‘I’. Never ‘You’, ‘They’, ‘Us’, ‘He’ or ‘She’. Always ‘I’ is what comes to my mind the instant I wake up in the morning. And all because of this, maybe I deserved what had happened to me today. But did She??

That was when I realized that there was another thing which I was good at… and that was keeping her happy by singing her favorite songs for her… Maybe from now on, I should stick to doing the things I am better at, than worrying about those which I’ve no control over.

A few minutes after everyone had settled down, I picked up my phone and texted her “Please wait for me… I’m coming as fast as I can..”