I would be no different than any of the other writers, who have described Cricket not as a sport but a religion. We are a cricket crazy country or at least was, when I was growing up. What has always amazed me is how this sport has the power to bind people of different races, ethnicity, and classes together. For me too, it has helped me to have a very special bond with my dad. Not that we did not have one, but at the time of cricket it was special, so special that no one came in between, his work, not my mother, nor my sister.

As a child, my first memory of my dad watching cricket was when I was very small, we had gone to Shimla on a holiday and I found it strange when my dad spoke to random strangers, who were listening to transistors (at that time for me they were just some rectangular boxes making some unusual sounds), We had to forgo some of our vacation plans and spend time either in the hotel room or at a relative’s house because dad wanted to watch the’83 world cup matches and obviously the finals. Well we all know what happened in that WC; what it did for me was, I saw a completely different side of dad, he rejoicing and jumping in the most animated manner, which I had not witnessed before. I loved it and wanted to be a part of it.

From here my passion for watching cricket developed. Going forward, we watched all matches, be it 1-day or test series, together with absolute enthusiasm.

Once, we even went to Wankhede stadium to watch a test series match of India Vs England, Oh! It was so much fun, I remember running down the steps to scream ‘Sachin Sachin’, each time he came to our side of the pavilion to field. It was the same match where Vinod Kambli scored a double century (224). I was cheering and screaming on each ball that he played; my constant cheering and comments really started to get on my sister’s last nerve, who graciously decided to join us only because she got to bunk school. We had to leave much earlier than I would have liked to, because she was bored, hungry and feeling extremely hot. But before we left the stands, Manoj Prabhakar bowled some beautiful deliveries and dented England’s opening order. We eventually won the series. Wow what an experience it was!

Dad and I would discuss cricket, make a note of the dates and timings of upcoming matches so that we could watch them together. He always made time for them!  And if it would be an India–Pak match, my God, we would go ballistic. If my memory serves me right, we got a separate TV installed in the living room so that we were not disturbed during those matches. We were the think tanks after all, checking the pitch report, planning the batting line up, setting up of field, bowling strategy etc. before each match.

I learnt and used my first swear word when I watched Javed Miandad make fun of Kiran More, Oh God! I was so furious. And did my first victory dance when Venkatesh Prasad clean bowled Aamir Sohail after he made a nasty gesture. Revenge indeed tastes Sweeter:-). Unfortunately, I had my 10^th standard boards during the same time, but that did not deter me from watching that match.

My 12th standard boards also coincided with another crucial series, like any diligent student worried about her future; I would prepare for my exams. But, dad would distract me with his jubilant screams. I clearly remember him saying “Leave it; give your exams next year, come and see Sachin bat”, No jokes, cricket was above all for both of us. Eventually, I would give in and join him to watch. I remember going in for my exams completely unprepared. But all my prayers did pay off, India won the series and I did decently well too. It all worked out in the end.

For the 2003 world cup, my craziness had reached an unimaginable level; I could beat the most ardent of fans of the game. I had completed graduation and had not started working yet. Had all the time in the world! Before the matches, I went to Shree Siddhivinayak Temple to pray; if I recall correctly, I even fasted or gave up eating one of my favorite food items on the days of matches; wore my lucky pair of track pants, shirt and socks for every match; please I am not crazy, it just happened that I did not wear this outfit for India’s second match and we lost miserably to Australia. Thus, the belief! I did all these so that India would win. The only thing left for me to do was to paint myself in tricolor and show up at the stadiums.

Oh!I was super annoying and my madness ticked my sister so much that it drove her to either hide or wet my clothes before crucial matches. But that did not deter me; I would not accept defeat and wear even wet clothes especially if it happened to be on the day of India-Pak WC match. My dad and I were on tender hooks and super excited at the same time. Pakistan won the toss and chose to bat; I can narrate ball by ball sequence of the whole match. We would be devastated each time we were hit for a 4 and jumped with joy when a wicket would fall. Ooh! How I danced when Inzamam-ul-Haq was run out. My heart beat would increase each time Shoaib Akhtar was given the bowl, Sehwag did try to comfort me by hitting a couple of boundaries and a six; but, he departed too early followed by Saurav Ganguly. It was Sachin all the way for me, we rejoiced watching the true master blaster in action. I’ll never forgive Akhtar for dismissing him at 98, we have a bone to settle buddy. But Dravid and Yuvraj ensured we sail through. What a match! For me, that day we won the cup, rest of the matches did not matter. In case you are wondering I would write a narrative of the WC final, I will not mention it, no way, it’s a bad memory; still trying to get over it. I switched off my TV for some time after Zaheer Khan’s 1^st over, watched it intermittently, but, completely switched it off after Sachin’s early dismissal.

The 2003 India-Pak WC match was the last match we watched together with such passion. I started working right after the World cup and got busy with my professional aspirations. We did watch a few matches here and there, but this one is closest to my heart.

Soon after that I got married and moved to Delhi, my husband and I do watch cricket and watched the 2011 world cup as well, in a whole new crazy way, but not like the earlier days. Both of us get very anxious, while watching a live match, we keep switching off and on our TV; we prefer to watch the highlights knowing the outcome of the match. For the Semi final India-Pak WC match, which was very close for our comfort, we could not handle the stress of Pakistan batsman hitting boundaries, giving it their all to chase 260 to win. We were nervous and decided to go to an ice cream parlor, which was a few meters away from home, we left and ran back home thrice each time we heard sounds of cheers, until Shahid Afridi got out and we watched the remaining match, we were certain of our win. Once we won we happily feasted on ice creams too.

Over the years, my passion for the game has gone down considerably, surprisingly; now, I do not watch matches regularly, do not know the names of half of the players in the team; which at one time for me was a cardinal sin. Also, I have come to realise that it was the company that mattered more than the game. I loved being with my dad, my buddy, watching cricket was a ritual for us; we made sure to take time out for each of the matches. I miss going all crazy and break into a dance each time we hit a boundary or six; and my dad sitting next to me swearing and exchanging high-fives on each bowl. And most of all, I miss what I loved doing the most —- irritating my sister, who grew up to hate the game thanks to my silly theatrics.

I wish that I too have a similar ritual with Puchki, spend time with her without fretting over school homework or activities; but relax, bond and go crazy over a sport. Well 2023 WC is scheduled in October; and India-Pak match is on 15^th Oct, may be its time to revisit the ritual, be silly again and scream Howzat.

Dad in case you are reading, please book your tickets and watch this world cup with us. The team needs our support our strategies like good old times, 2023 WC humara hai-).