The willow wonky memories

If I have to be greatful to something from the past, then I 'd choose cricket. If not for cricket, I wouldn't have had any friends at all. If not for cricket , I wouldn't have made it past the miasma of ailments, into the ground, into the sun. I am in no way a great player, its just that I played cricket with love. Just like srk in omshantiom says that he loves every aspect of movie making like the lights, pack up time, action ,cut and all, I loved every aspect of cricket. I didn't even once play on a real pitch though.And played only a few times with the cricket ball.

Why cricket now. Because, for me its a way of connecting with the past. I never had any pictures in the past and I dont' know why. For example, when I think about any friend of mine, my only memory associated with him is associated with the time when he was playing cricket with me somewhere in the team.In one of the cricket matches we played, there was a guy called tony and he wasn't from our school and I didn't know him before the match and have never seen him after that. But to this day, I remember his face. He was short and looked like a kid from fourth standard. He was using my willow bat (it's still with me) , when he hit the ball so hard that it raised high and went far. It was near perfect shot and by no means perfect because I was the only one who could reach perfection in that small world so I thought .But the truth is , I was jealous and envious from the time that little guy started playing. The ball hit with all its might,

the head of a person so far away. Luckily , it was a rubber ball. Otherwise I doubt if he could have lived after that ball hit him.We were playing the game in the police quarters. I was terrified and we ran away and when we are far enough ,outside the police quarters, I saw the little culprit coming out and I noticed something so dreadful. I noticed the absence of the willow in little tony's hands.

He said , the victim snatched the bat. Without further thought, I went into the quarters again with the little guy and some friends. They were terrified, but I was more terrified by the thought of loss of the willow, and somehow , I don't know how, those some friends of mine recognized this and felt that they should come with me.No one can deny that this unity in adversity was only because of cricket in my case.I went and stood outside the house of the man who was hit on the head by the ball. Seeing me and my friends, some three people came out of the house.A furious man from among them said that he had the feeling of his head being roasted , when the ball hit his head. Little tony chuckled. The man said he would roast the willow and I never ll get it back. And there I was ,crying, for the first time infront of my friends.Somehow, I don't remember how, I got my bat back. The little guy was never to be seen ever after.

And so on goes the montage that I name 'cricket' , with memories that are stuck , and which seem only as real as the cricket I played.