by Khyrunnisa A
‘Yes, yes. Mr Sharma, don’t say “No, no”,’ Amar hissed to the nameplate as he pulled out the letter from his bag. Looking up and down the lane and glad to find no one about, he was about to shove it into the letter box when Kiran stopped him.
‘Hey, Butter, do you really think he’d check his letter box? No one gets letters these days. My dad never opens our mailbox. We should do something to draw Mr Sharma’s eyes to the envelope. Don’t push it all in. Leave some of it jutting out and visible.’
‘Cool!’ Amar gave a low whistle of appreciation. ‘And I’ll write something on that part.’ Taking out his pen, he wrote in sprawling black letters, ‘Attention, Mr Sharma! Please read! Urgent!’ on one half of the envelope. With Kiran’s help, he pushed the blank part of the envelope in and folded the rest down so that the message was in clear view. The boys admired their handiwork for a while and from various angles until some honking in the distance alerted them to the possibility of a bus that could take them back. Soon they were home, pleased with themselves.
Everyone awaited news of the success of the mission but Jayaram could provide no further update from Nila, who said the Target girls were ill and absent from class. The suspense, therefore, continued.
‘Friday! Today’s Friday!’ yelled Amar, rushing down for breakfast with an enthusiasm generally reserved for holidays. ‘The day of our historic match.’
The landline rang while he was stuffing breakfast into his mouth and his mother went to take the call. ‘Hello! Who? Sunderbans? Line’s bad. Oh, but why? I’ll call Amar.’
‘Amar!’ she shouted. ‘For you. It’s your Sunderlal Sir. He was saying something about Ajay twisting his uncle.’
Amar looked astounded and ran to take the call. ‘Hello, sir, good morning. Why did Ajay twist his uncle? I mean, how’s that possible, sir? Oh! But that’s tragic; today’s the match, sir! What? Oh, okay, sir. Thank you, sir. Bye, sir.’
‘What were you sir-ing so much about?’ asked Mr Kishen. ‘Has one of your crazy friends murdered his uncle?’
‘Not uncle, Dad, Ma—ankle. Ajay tripped over his cat and twisted his ankle. He’s our captain, so sir called to tell me that I’m to captain the side today.’
‘That’s so lovely, Amar!’ Mrs Kishen looked at her son with pride. ‘I didn’t mean Ajay’s accident,’ she added hurriedly.
His father smiled and said, ‘Good luck, Amar. Be a credit to us men. Don’t let the girls defeat you.’ He ignored his wife’s irritated glance and continued. ‘I’ll take you to school today.’
‘Wow, thanks, Dad! Kiran said he’ll come here.’ Amar rushed to fetch his bag before his father changed his mind. Mr Kishen dropped the boys at the end of the road leading to the school’s gate. Kishore and Eric were just entering the lane and, on sighting them, Kishore quoted, ‘The ides of March are come.’
‘And Ajay has gone,’ Amar responded.
‘Gone? Where?’ The others hadn’t heard the news.
‘Out of the team. He’s hurt his ankle.’
‘The dope! What a day to perform his ultra-special acrobatics! Methinks thou art captain, then?’ Kishore gave Amar a patronizing pat on the back.
‘Yep. And get off your Shakespearean high horse, idiot. No more of your thou-ing and your art-ing. Captain’s orders!’ Amar grinned.
The news spread and a huge crowd gathered around the ‘News and Views’ board as everyone wanted to find out who would be the playing XI. Mr Sunderlal had just pinned the list and everyone jostled to read it, trapping the teacher between them and the board. ‘Geff afay!’ he gasped, struggling to breathe.
‘You rowdy boys, move!’ Mr Shyam, who was passing by, came to the sports teacher’s aid and, helped by Mr Hiran Hiran, the art teacher, and some senior boys, used brute force to rescue him. Once things settled down, Mahesh, the head boy, read aloud the names of the selected team.
‘Hey, guys, listen. “The team for the under-15 Twenty20 match against Target School: Amar Kishen, captain. Sumay Ghosh, vice-captain. Arjun, wicketkeeper. Pranav Singh, Rohan Nair, Abdul Javed, Jayaram Rajaram, Kiran Reddy, Eric Paul, J. Mitra, Jithin Pandey. Twelfth man: Ishaan Sen. Reserves: Kishore Krishnan and Thomas Mathew.”’
Every name was received with a loud ‘Yaay!’, the roar reaching a crescendo when Thomas’s name was heard. Cheering and shouting, the students were preparing to go for the assembly when Mahesh announced there was no assembly that day. Anticipating a festive atmosphere and restless students, Jagmohan had cleverly decided to use the public address system to make the announcements.
‘Hey, Thomo, Kishore, how come you aren’t in the eleven?’ Minu asked.
‘I’m not there?’ asked Thomas, who hadn’t heard Mahesh. ‘Great! I wanted to watch.’
‘An actual statement from you? Unbelievable!’ Minu laughed.
‘And I wanted to deliver the commentary,’ said Kishore, looking satisfied. ‘I said that within sir’s hearing many times, and he’s taken the hint.’
‘But you might have to field,’ Kiran reminded him.
‘Not likely in a Twenty20 game.’ Kishore shook his head. ‘At the most Ishaan might have to.’ Catching sight of Sumay, he yelled, ‘Ahoy, Sumoy! Congrats, I bow to thee, O vice-captain!’
Sumay smiled, a little overwhelmed. He hadn’t expected to be made vice-captain and hoped Amar wouldn’t do anything stupid that would force him to become makeshift captain during the match.
Once the students had settled down in their respective classes, the public address system fizzled to life and Mr Jagmohan’s rasping voice came crackling out. ‘Today’s a half day, as you all know, since we are hosting the historic girls vs boys match—the under-15 Twenty20 cricket tournament between Green Park XI and Target XI. It will start at 2 p.m. Be on the grounds by 1.45 p.m. I wish our boys all the best and hope they come out successful. And remember, no rude comments or opinions about girls. The match must be played and watched in the right spirit. Now go to your . . . er . . . now the classes will begin.’
‘Poor Ajay. Sir said Ajay’s cousin would drop him off here in the afternoon. He doesn’t want to miss the game,’ Eric whispered to Amar.
‘Yep, he’s got to watch at least. Do you think Nayanika will play?’ Amar whispered back.
The teachers turned a deaf ear to the excited whispering that went on in classrooms until, finally, it was lunchtime. Mr Jagmohan’s remarks had given ideas to some enterprising boys, who rushed to the ‘News and Views’ board to fill up the blank space with comments and drawings: ‘Gender battle: Skirts at war with trousers!’, ‘Boys aren’t better, they are plain superior!’, ‘Operation Target Shooting’, ‘Boys don’t cry, they just try . . . and win!’, ‘Boys will be boys—victorious!’, ‘Green signal for Target annihilation’. A boy with artistic pretensions drew a quick sketch of stick-figure girls playing cricket with kitchen utensils. Another added a baby that looked like a drunken monkey clinging to the back of the wicketkeeper.
By 1.30 p.m. almost all the students had filled the stands. Banners of Woodwork Furniture and Heroic Cycles, the two sponsors, fluttered in the breeze. Five minutes later, two Target school buses rolled into campus, and droves of screaming girls scrambled out. Green Park’s students looked stunned. They hadn’t expected an army of cheering girls. Mr Jagmohan and Mr Sunderlal rushed to welcome the team and seating arrangements for the girls were quickly made.
‘Hey, look who’s leading the team, Butter!’ Eric exclaimed. ‘Nayanika!’
‘Mission Mr Sharma successful!’ Amar winked.
The Target team was in blue shirts and trousers while Green Park was in white. The principal of Target School, Mrs Priya K, and the sports teacher, Miss Anuradha Ranjan, had accompanied the students. Mrs Priya, a serious-looking lady, was led to the makeshift pavilion by Mr Jagmohan. Ajay, who had limped on to the grounds, helped by his cousin, was, to his great disbelief, honoured with a chair in the pavilion.
Nayanika and Miss Anuradha walked to the pitch to inspect it. Very soon, the teachers an
d other guests took their seats and it was time for the match to start. The teams stood around the pavilion, sneaking the occasional surreptitious glance at the trophy on the side table. There were neat piles of small boxes near it. ‘The tickets must be in them,’ Amar whispered to Kiran. ‘We’ve got to win them.’
‘Matter of prestige,’ Kiran responded.
Kishore, meanwhile, seated close the pavilion in case he needed to field, prepared to deliver his expert comments to whoever would listen. ‘Equality in umpiring!’ he announced to those nearby. ‘There will be two umpires today, one male, Mr Sunderlal, and one female, er . . . I don’t know her name but I think she’s the sports teacher of Target School.’
At exactly 2 p.m., Mr Jagmohan announced that the match was about to start. The anthems of Green Park and Target schools were sung completely off-key by the students of the respective schools, after which Mr Jagmohan read out the names of the players of both sides. Now the two umpires walked out on to the field with the two captains in tow for the toss. Amar smiled at Nayanika, who responded with a curt nod. Discomfited, he dropped the coin even before Mr Sunderlal asked him to toss it. Nayanika picked it up for him. He flicked it high. ‘Heads,’ said Nayanika in her clear voice. The coin went spinning up, alighting on Nayanika’s head before sliding off to land on its edge, rolling away for a while before coming to a stop, still on its edge.
‘Shall I blow on it?’ asked Amar to general laughter around.
‘No, toss again.’ Ms Anuradha was firm.
This time, Nayanika said, ‘Tails,’ and tails it was. ‘We’ll bat first,’ she declared.
Amar was relieved. He hated winning the toss and making a decision that could be criticized later. When the captains returned to the pavilion, a group of special guests were being ushered in by Mr Shyam, causing a buzz, but the teams were too preoccupied to register this. Amar led his team on to the grounds to the loud accompaniment of cheers and catcalls. Target’s opening bats, Nayanika and Malavika, started their walk to the crease. Arjun, who had forgotten his new gloves, ran back for them, colliding with Malavika, who was carrying hers. The gloves flew from her hand. Arjun caught them brilliantly and bowed. ‘These should do, thank you!’ Malavika snatched them back, muttering something unmentionable.
Mr Sunderlal, umpiring at the bowler’s end, signalled for the game to start. Amar set the field, keeping the power play in mind. Slow clapping accompanied Jithin when he walked to the run-up and, as he ran in to bowl to Nayanika, who had taken guard, the cheering swelled to a crescendo with the sound of drums adding to the ruckus. An unperturbed Nayanika, eyes on the ball like a cheetah waiting for the kill, drove it all along the ground for a four. The Target students went berserk with glee.
‘Girls are the best!’ one girl screamed. No pace bowler takes kindly to the first ball being treated with such utter disrespect. Jithin stormed to the bowling mark and sent down a fast and furious delivery that was expertly defended. Two more dot balls followed. Jithin relaxed and the next ball was a short one that Nayanika pulled over the square leg boundary for a thumping six. Unnerved, Jithin bowled a loose full toss that was punished with another six. Sixteen runs in the over. Green Park students went silent while Target wouldn’t stop celebrating. The battle of the sexes had begun among the spectators too.
‘So, ladies and gentle sires,’ Kishore, struck dumb by Nayanika’s assault, found his tongue, ‘that lady whom we call the Wunder Woman is indeed marvellous. Sixteen glorious runs. The bowler Jithin, as you notice, licks his wounds in the cover. The captain, Amar, otherwise known as Butterfingers, drops his head.’
Sumay, bowling his gentle but deceptive medium pace, got some respect from Malavika, who watched the first three balls like a hawk and played herself in. A single off the next brought Nayanika to face Sumay. She got a nick that went safely to the side of Eric for two runs. Green Park was determined not to allow her to take a single. The next ball was right on the block hole, but amazingly she skipped forward smartly, turned it into a full toss and straight-drove it for a four. The over was over.
‘Yes, there’s a bowling change, folks,’ drawled Kishore. ‘The captain, Amar, known to face danger head-on, has decided to bowl. Watch!’
Amar bowled a maiden, but the opening pair soon began piling up the runs to reach 93 in the first ten overs, the first six overs, comprising power play, yielding 62 of them. Nayanika was on 68 and had reached her fifty in 32 deliveries.
Amar made quick bowling changes; Kiran, Eric, Mitra and Rohan—all had a go but nothing worked. In desperation, he gave the ball to Abdul, who rarely bowled. Abdul took a very long run-up and finally bowled such a slow delivery that Malavika, tired of waiting, threw her bat at it and edged it right into the hands of Amar at first slip. Ecstatic, Amar promptly flung it up and it dropped to the ground.
‘Not out,’ said Mr Sunderlal, glaring at Amar. Malavika giggled and that proved her undoing. She came way out of the crease to play the next delivery but Abdul sent a much quicker one, which Arjun collected and stumped her.
‘Howzzzatttt?’ the boys in the stands screamed at the Target girls.
‘Yeah, Green Park has got its breakthrough. Now, will there be a procession?’ asked Kishore.
There was. Kritika, who came next, got out on the last delivery. Emboldened by his decision, Amar brought on Jayaram, another reluctant bowler. Nayanika sent the first ball for a four and took a single off the next. Gauri, who had come in after the fall of Kritika’s wicket, saw off the first ball she faced, chased the next that was moving away and got a nick. Arjun made no mistake. The next batsman, Nandika, desperate to get Nayanika to face the bowling, ran for a non-existent single and got run out. Purnima, the wicketkeeper, who was next in, lost her balance as she got ready to play the last ball of the over and fell on the stumps. ‘Hehawhehehawhaw!’ Arjun laughed like a demented donkey and the boys in the stands added catcalls to this.
‘Five wickets down, and Purnima’s dismissal is a patented Shefali Singh act, specially reserved for wicketkeepers,’ Kishore explained, though few understood him.
Kaikasi came in and steadied the innings, hardly scoring runs but cleverly rotating the strike so that Nayanika could score. Soon 125 runs were on the board with five overs to go.
‘At this rate, they might get at least 175 runs,’ Jayaram, who was getting ready for another over, muttered to Amar. ‘All because of your super rotten letter-writing idea!’
This reminded Amar, who was moving to his position at first slip, of his noble deed. ‘It’s good your father gave you permission to play,’ he remarked to Nayanika as she got ready to face Jayaram. ‘The letter worked.’
‘Eh?’ Nayanika looked at him, puzzled. The momentary lapse in concentration cost her dear.
Jayaram, who had always wanted to bowl a perfect googly, chose the perfect time for it. The ball turned into her, she hurriedly jabbed at it and Kiran took the catch gratefully. ‘Matter of prestige!’ he announced as Jayaram ran to hug him. Nayanika had made 81 in 54 balls. She was obviously annoyed with herself as she walked back to a standing ovation.
‘A captain’s knock, ladies and gentlemen, quite like Mithali Raj’s. In fact, this cool Wunder Woman appears to be the Indian captain’s clone,’ enthused Kishore.
Jayaram, elated at having got the prize wicket, bowled an inspired spell. He got Nitisha and Aditi out in the next two deliveries, completing a hat-trick.
Vineetha and Kaikasi didn’t want to take chances and played carefully, adding only five runs. Jithin had been entrusted with the last over and, desperate to add to the score, Vineetha decided to go for a slog. She missed the ball and was clean bowled. Zoya took a single off the first ball she faced. Kaikasi played and missed the next two deliveries but managed a single off the fifth ball. Jithin came thundering in and, throwing caution to the winds, Zoya flung her bat out, connected, and the ball went sailing for a six. The innings ended at 138 for 9.
‘So, friends, Target’s score is 138 and Green Park’s target for
victory is 139. Will the Adams outsmart the Eves? Will they eve-n things out? Wait till eve for the answer to the million-dollar question,’ Kishore drawled.
‘Aha, sledging, eh, Butter?’ Eric chuckled when the team walked back to the pavilion. ‘I saw you rile up the Wunder Woman and she got out immediately.’
‘No sledging-wedging. I only reminded her about our letter,’ Amar explained.
The players gulped down their drinks, and while Nayanika had her team in a huddle, discussing strategy, Amar told his players, ‘Just go get the runs. The pitch has eased out a bit. A score of 139 shouldn’t be too difficult. But you have to give your best, you never can say with Target School.’ Complacency, at any rate, had become a thing of the past.
Pranav and Rohan opened for Green Park, and disaster struck immediately. Nitisha, the opening medium pacer who described herself as a fast bowler, glared at Pranav, arms akimbo, as any self-respecting fast bowler should. She followed up the glare by pulling a face and twitching her nose. Then she sneezed, which wasn’t part of her plan, but it added to the special effects, and wiped her nose on her shirt. Pranav watched, fascinated. And got out to the first ball she bowled. The girls shrieked with joy.
‘No run, one wicket! Dream start!’ Manas hooted.
Abdul, the batsman with the silken touch, came next and the spectators sat up, looking forward to a delectable display of classic batting. Abdul didn’t disappoint them. Runs flowed effortlessly from his bat as he appeared impervious to the stares of Nitisha and the formidable personality of Vineetha, the other pacer, who thundered in to bowl with her hair flying like a fizzy halo. Rohan also found his rhythm, and the two took the score to 50 when Nayanika introduced spin. Aditi fooled Rohan out of his crease and Purnima did the rest.
Sumay lasted only one over before he played on to Nandika. Arjun swaggered in, a rainbow-coloured band crowning his head to keep his long hair in place, and began throwing his bat around as only he could. One of his flamboyant hits struck Malavika on her toes and she retired hurt. Aarathy, the twelfth man, took her place on the field.