Three Mistakes Of My Life(Chetan Bhagat) - Chapter 6:South Africa vs India
India vs South Africa
4th ODI, Vadodra
17 March 2000
Over 45
`Why the fuck did you have to move?’ Ishaan’s scream drowned out the
stadium din on the TV. I had shifted up to a sofa from the floor.
`Huh?’ I said. We were in Ishaan’s house — Ishaan, Omi and I. Ishaan’s mom
had brought in tea and khakra for us. ‘It is more comfortable to snack on the
sofa. That is why I moved.’
`Tendulkar’s gone. Fuck, now at this stage. Omi, don’t you dare move now.
Nobody moves for the next five overs.’
I looked at the TV. We were chasing 283 to win. India’s score a ball ago was
256-2 after forty-five overs. Twenty-seven runs in five overs, with eight wickets to
spare and Tendulkar on the crease. A cakewalk. The odds were still in India’s
favour, but Tendulkar was out. And that explained the frowns on Ishaan’s
forehead.
‘The khakra’s crispy,’ Omi said. Ishaan glared at Omi, chiding him for his
shallow sensory pleasure in a moment of national grief. Omi and I kept our tea
cups aside and looked suitably mournful.
The crowd clapped as Tendulkar made his exit. Jadeja came to the crease and
added six more runs. End of forty-six overs, India 262/3. Twenty-one more runs
to win in four overs, with seven wickets in hand.
Over 46
‘He made 122. The guy did his job. Just a few final closing shots left. Why are
you getting so worked up?’ I asked during a commercial break. I reached for my
tea cup, but Ishaan signalled me to leave it alone. We were not going to indulge
until the fate of the match was decided. Ishaan was pissed with us anyway. The
match was in Vadodra, just two hours away from Ahmedabad. But we could not
go – one, because we didn’t have money, and two, because I had my
correspondence exams in two days. Of course, I had wasted the whole day
watching the match on TV instead, so reason number two did not really hold
much weight.
‘It is 5.25 runs required per over,’ I said, not able to resist doing a
mathematical calculation. That is one reason I like cricket, there is so much
‘You don’t know this team. Tendulkar goes, they panic. It isn’t about the
average. It is like the queen bee is dead, and the hive loses order,’ Ishaan said.
Omi nodded, as he normally does to whatever Ishaan has to say about cricket.
‘Anyway, I hope you realise, we didn’t meet today to see this match. We have to
decide what Mr Ishaan is doing about his future, right?’ I said.
Ishaan had always avoided this topic ever since he ran away from NDA a year
ago. His dad had already sarcastically commented, ‘Cut a cake today to celebrate
one year of your uselessness.’
However, today I had a plan. I needed to sit them down to talk about our lives.
Of course, against cricket, life is second priority.
‘Later,’ Ishaan said, staring avidly at a pimple cream commercial.
‘Later when Ishaan? I have an idea that works for all of us. We don’t have a lot
of choice, do we?’
‘All of us? Me, too?’ Omi quizzed, already excited. Idiots like him love to be part
of something, anything. However, this time we needed Omi.
‘Yes, you play a critical role Omi. But later when Ish? When?’
‘Oh, stop it! Look, the match is starting. Ok, over dinner. Let’s go to Gopi,’ Ish
said.
‘Gopi? Who’s paying?’ I was interrupted as the match began.