Neha I’m calling it a day.’
‘Yeah. It was quite a hectic day for you Akash.’
I smiled at her as I washed my hands thoroughly with Dettol
soap, took my stethoscope resting on my shoulders and kept it in my bag. After having missed scoring a century of patients by five in my OPD, followed by negotiating a role of tough invigilator for mock MD final exam and checking the answer sheets, followed by taking grand viva of students who were about to become post graduates in a month’s time, it was long but a very satisfying day for me.
‘You remember its IndiaWest Indies semi-finals today!’
‘I can forget to breathe but not this.’
It gave her a good laugh. Everyone in my hospital knew that I was a diehard cricket fan. I had even missed my convocation for attending a One Day match in Feroz Shah Kotla ground, for which my Head of Department teases me even till date.
‘For me don’t forget to bring a chocolate, if India wins’.
Dr Neha was my colleague in hospital and we had a good working and professional relationship. I checked my watch, it was 8.30. West Indies had given India a very challenging target of 202, which by any means was a mammoth to climb in a T20 match. ‘Virat Kohli must fire on all cylinders today’, I thought.
Ihurried past the hospital gate and took an auto to the nearest metro station. I was constantly updating myself of the latest score using a cricket app in mobile, radio being absent in i phone the match was getting close as India lost two quick wickets in two successive maiden overs. West Indies was on a song but Kohli was still out on crease.
‘Bhaiya how much?’ I asked the autowala.
I quickly picked change from my pocket and paid him, got my bag scanned at the security check and took metro to Dwarka. As usual it was fully packed but luckily I got a corner seat.
Situation on the ground was getting tenser every minute and I was refreshing the app every four-five seconds, although it takes a good at least two minutes for a ball to be bowled and getting reflected in the app. Suddenly, the metro crossed a poor signal zone and my internet gave way. Those were slog overs with 12 runs needed in the very last over. There was no way I was going to reach home and watch it live.
Take this.’ Person sitting next to me, who was sweating heavily and stinking like anything, offered me one lead of his ear plug. He had probably observed my desperation and was himself listening to the live radio telecast of match on his phone.
I was hesitant at first, sceptical of any possible ear infection, then took it. Smile instantly returned on my face. Both of us heard ball by ball commentary as Kohli hit a six and India won with two balls to spare. We both jumped on our feet, to the very astonishment of the bystanders. He soon left the metro at the next station. I could only see him disappearing in the thick of crowd, even before I could thank him or ask his name.
It only gave me a contentment of how cricket still unites people across all walks and that goodness always prevail, behind happy trail of memory. I was surely going to buy chocolate for Neha next.