The Big Fun

Yesterday after a long time, I watched an ODI innings on TV. India notched up a series win in the Compaq cup beating rivals Sri Lanka by some 60 or 80 odd runs. India was bowling and Bhajji's superb 5-crucial wickets haul swung the game in our favour after the Lankan tigers fought bravely in their 7th wicket partnership. I even watched the presentation ceremony with full enthusiasm. And memories came back...

I wasnt the conventional cricket freak but yes, I used to be super excited during every India match, whether it be with arch rivals Pakistan or Australia or whether be it seemingly minnows, Zimbabwe or Kenya. It was a huge affair for me every time. Endless discussions with friends about our odds of winning the match usually preceeded them. Many a times I have got onto verbal duels with my friends regarding who is a more competent player in the match, Sachin or Saurav? or will Srinath's in swings be a match decider today? How many runs will Debasish Mohanty go for? Or will Mongia pinch hit today or will Kumble's leg spin do the trick? I am talking about the 1996s and the 1999s and the 2002-03s and a couple of years after that. We lacked spinners. Though he picked up 6 wickets once, I didnt admire Sunil Joshi. The other spinners apart from Kumble and Bhajji were negligible. Among the pacers, Srinath and Prasad ruled the mantle usually at that time, supported by either an abey kuruvilla or a Debasish Mohanty. The openers were a delight-Ramesh or Jaffer or Laxman. The Sehwags and the Gambhirs came much later.

From my childhood days I was notorious of playing cricket at home, alone. How? Well i used to bounce a 'cambis' ball on our wall (spun it usually) and I had a knee long slender wooden bat with which I used to hit it all through out my room. And my Mom used to shout aloud seeing the clumsy white spots on our painted walls. But I didnt use to stop. Till now i have broken showcase glass and glass panes by whacking a ball at them, and all unfortunately in my house. Everyday (during vacations and holidays) my daily regimen would be a cursory study session followed by the cricketing bonanza. I used to maintain a copy where I wrote down serially, the batting order and imagined to be in a wide green stadia, cheered by lakhs of people in the stand and an imaginary commentary also used to take place. Ah those were the days-simple, uncluttered and passionate. I also remember, my dad used to bowl to me while I batted-in our house, with the ball occasionally dropping inside the uncovered utensil on the table full of fish curry or hitting my mother in the kitchen. But nevertheless i didnt use to stop, neither learn.

And then there were the cricket cards which came free with chewing gums like big fun and center fresh. Its bliss to recapitulate those fond memories. how I used to hanker after buying me a gum-big fun, which was extra sugary and bland after the initial chews-but then the card which came along with them, which bore the picture and career details of cricketers were the nadir of possession for me. We used to trade them, possess them, flaunt them, brag about them and routinely go through them in awe and disbelief. I was then, uncorrupted by the television, mobile, computer and other gadgets of modernity. I still treasure those cards, which were a source of delight for me in my younger days.

Who can forget the maniacal possession of cricket mags and the posters which came along with them for free. Many times, have i persuaded my parents to buy me a latest copy of sportstar or sportsworld or cricket samrat or cricket world. Not that I used to read them in details but i just used to glance through them, see the pics, read the scoresheets but unmistakably used to perform three things as rituals-savouring the copy, pulling out the posters, treasuring it and treasuring the copy too.

Nowadays, when i see a tabloid copy of sportstar, i feel sad. The feel of the mag is no more. I was just thinking a few days back-that the unique marketing strategy of luring the kids to buy a gum or a mag by giving a card or a poster free was an unfailing marketing tool too. But sadly, nowadays, youngsters have their own crazes-notably PS2 games, CD Roms, the latest scientific gadget and so on. Television and the internet and the computer games have ensured that those plastic cards and those mega sized posters never come back. But still when I open my treasure trove and rummage my memories or when I watch an India match or read about it in papers, i still feel that pulsating urge to dive back to my past and retrieve those golden bays of untampered joy and passionate existence.