Jeetega bhai jeetega

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
The semi final is day after and I still haven't found a way out of that thing called work. Madness cannot be repeated in two consecutive weeks I am told. The ticket shall rot while I attend work on Wednesday. But no, I cant let this dominate me. Must.find.a.way.out.

Last week, it just happened. It fell in place like the pieces in a puzzle. The great game of cricket. It makes you do things. Never before have I been so grateful about striking a connection with the state of Gujarat. The stadium which has far too many memories became the place of yet another great memory. I watched my first game of cricket where my own team played. And my bachpan ka favourite team played. Yes I know that isn't loyalty but back then when Baba had explained cricket to me, he had asked me to choose the team I liked the most. And I had chosen Australia. So no matter what, it was an amazing feeling to see both these teams from such close quarters.

I saw Saurav Ganguly, like right there on the field, doing the pitch report. Sigh! The walking till the stadium, the choosing seats with best view (so what if there was pigeon crap all over the seats) the lack of a mobile phone, was all worth it! I felt like I was in a trance and to imagine that it continued for a straight 12 hours almost. Tendulkar came in wearing his signature hat to practise while rest of the Indian cricketers strolled about, talking to each other in huddles. The Aussies were way more professional. Each guy took a spot and started to practise their game, without any idle chatter. Now, right there, we have a thing to learn from them.

Soon the match started and I realised I just HAD to scream with the crowd. So I screamed Ganpati Bappa Moriya everytime Tendulkar came too close to our pavilion while fielding, screamed Jeetega bhai jeetega India jeetega at almost all hours of the game and did Mexican waves with the junta. The most effective one was 'Aussies you suck'. It started everytime they asked for a review, hit a four or a six and later on when they took wickets. It just worked like a dream. We could see them become all nerves. India got so much support, it almost seemed unfair at a point. But then Brett Lee hit one bodyline after another and that too to Tendulkar! There was sledging as well. So I decided to stop feeling like a Gemini and just go full throttle for my country.

Ofcourse a few things upset him. Like that empty bottle of water I kept clutching onto from 12 in the afternoon. From that half eaten patty that I kept in between our seats. Like my non stop abusing. He said there were friends and family who knew us and I couldn't be so vocal about my thoughts about Watson and Johnson. I said just tell them am a frikkin Delhiite. So yeah, there were bursts of fights in between. But it was all for the larger good. No?

When Yuvi got all nervous and got Gauti run out, I sort of peed in my pants. Yes, I was scared. And I am that very easily when it's about cricket. So I started my final trump card. The praying and the JBLing. I did not get up after the next chaukka and they sent another one to the boundary. That is when I realised I couldn't jump off my seat any longer. I sat throughout the last 40 minutes and prayed myself hoarse. When 4 runs were left, he asked me to get up and dance anyway. And I stood, Yuvi hit a four, he dashed to the ground in exhilaration, I danced the victory dance and gave gaaliya to the dozen, all simultaneously. He scooped me out of the stadium soon after. My friend K said He should get a reward for having chosen me of all the women out there in the world. Basically they teamed up against me once the game was won. I let them act like stupid boys cos I was on seventh heaven anyway.

The lies, the bunking, the surprise, the money, the sweat, the pigeon poop, the lack of food, the no connectivity, the fear, the elation. The success.

And ofcourse, being called lucky. Just epic.