Cricket in the Park

I have always been intrigued by Hindi films which show hero fighting multiple villains single handedly. In my free time I used to imagine myself as a hero saving some cute looking girl from the villain and later bask in the glory when people praise me for my bravery. However, rules of life are little different in reality.

It would have been a nondescript day, like any other day had been in the summer of 99 in Malviya Nagar, Delhi. The scorching heat always has a curfew effect on Delhi forcing everyone to be indoors in the morning hours, but by evening, roads will be bustling with activities. In the evening people of all age crowded the park. The old take stroll for their health, women to enhance their gossip knowledge, young boys roamed around looking for girls, girls giggle to tease those boys and kids play around laughing and shouting. We were also playing cricket in one of the corner of the park. It was my turn to bowl and Rohit was on the crease. This was the last over and they needed 4 runs to win with just 1 wicket in hand. Everyone in my team gave me a pleading look to take the last wicket somehow and win the match. I bowled with full intensity and Rohit just smashed it. The ball was nearing the virtual boundary line and we were going to lose the match. Suddenly a stranger appeared from no where and picked up the ball before it could cross the line. I was happy thinking it was not a four but soon my happiness faded away.
“Abe haramiyon…yahan nahin khel sakte” A hefty man with bulldog like face came towards us. He was wearing loose faded jeans which hung on his waist like a curtain. His shirt was not tucked and had couple of buttons open showing his chest hair which were as big as hair on his head.
“You bastards can’t play here!!!” He shouted again with a harsh coarse voice.

Rohit asked “What has happened, Uncle? We are just playing here and doing nothing”

He did not bother to answer Rohit. He started showering us with all kind of abuses and making gestures at us to move away from the ground. All we could understand was for some reason best known to him; we were not allowed to play in that part of the park.
Whatever be the case, it was a fact that he was alone and we were eleven young boys and we had the confidence of taking on anyone. So we started retaliating and abusing him back in his own words. That angered him more and he picked up one of the stump and threw it to us. It missed Rohit. Rohit picked up the same stump and threw it back at him and it hit his forehead. May be the surface area played the trick here. Rohit was a thin boy like me. The man’s forehead started bleeding and that was enough to scare us. We started running helter skelter. I took a turn on the road beside the park but an old man with silky white hair caught me. He was bigger than the man in the park and had similar grimacing look on his face. He dragged me to the middle of the park and threw me on one of the bench. I hurt my knees and it pained but as soon as I took my eyes up, my physical pain vanished an emotional pain engulfed me. Each and every balcony of the apartments surrounding the park was filled with people who were looking towards me. It felt as if I am a thief and waiting for a collective thrashing from the crowd. I looked around to search for my group but no one could be found. They would not risk being in the park else they would also join me on this cemented bench.

The fellow with bleeding forehead came toward me. The stump was still in his hand and that made me worry about my own forehead, but the crowd around gave me a certain sense of protection. At least he can not hit when everyone is watching.

“Call Police!! We will hand over this bastard to them. He will help us catch others as well” Shouted the old man with silky hair.

I could feel a lump in my throat. To avoid tears I started concentrating on what they were saying. The old man was the father of the fellow whose head we had broken.

Police came down, handcuffed me and took me to the police station. The guy with bleeding forehead, the old man with silky hair and many more old people, also came behind me to the police station.

“Thrash this guy. He had broken my sons head.” The old man with silky hair shouted.

A police inspector, whose badge read “Mr Akhilesh Tomar”, picked me up by my collar and peered into my eyes and asked “What did you do.”

“I have not done anything sir. I have not broken his head.” I was about to cry.

I do not know whether it was my 40Kg thin frame, my innocent face or my cry ridden voice, he felt pity on me and left me.

“Where do your parents stay? Give me their number.”

“They are not in Delhi sir, they are from Ranchi. We do not have a phone at home. I have to write a letter to them”

“Mr Ahluwalia” said the police officer. “Shall I book a case against them?”

The stupid police was referring to that villain as Mr. and me who have not done anything, he wanted to slap me.

“I know you have not done this.” The man whose head we had broken said, pointing his finger to his bandaged forehead. His voice was little sympathetic. I wondered why.

“Tell me the name of the boy and we will let you go” He said.

“I have not seen who threw the stump in the chaos. I can tell name of all the people who were playing there.” I do not know why I tried to save Rohit that day. He was not a good friend of mine and always used to bully me.

“Take us to the places where you stay.”

I took them to the apartment where we were staying but no one was there. My friends had already heard about my arrest and fled from the area. I was taken back to the police station and asked to sit in the bench along with a pimp, a thief and a good looking guy who deals in fake currency. I watched entire proceedings of other cases with Inspector Tomar shouting at fixed intervals. I guess they need to shout to be taken seriously. I was wondering what they were planning for me. Not a single person came and rescued me from the hell hole. They neither allowed me to go home nor do they put me behind the bars. I saw people who were inside the lockup and imagined how it would be to be with those people. I also thought about my parents and what they will go through when they hear about all this. I sat there for hours even when other people had left the police station. Later my friends arranged a guy who was not playing with us to come to the police station and find out about me. He brought cash with him which was enough to make Inspector Tomar happy.
He stuffed the money in his pocket and said “Mr Ahluwalia is a big shot in this area. Do not take panga with them. I suggest you convince all your friends to go to his house and say sorry. They are local gangster but still they are good at heart. They will forgive you people” I wanted to laugh at the irony of his words but didn’t say anything.

Later in the night we all went to Mr Ahluwalia’s house. I was ahead of everyone.

“Sir, I have brought all my friends. We are really sorry for what has happened. It was totally unintentional.” I said in single breath.

The old man with silk hair called us inside and asked as to sit and offered some roohafza. He later said.

“You are a brave kid. No one in this whole area dare to cross our roads. But I am impressed with you. I know you knew the name of the boy who did it but you did not disclose it. I do not want to know who he is now. We will forget everything and take the charges back. But do not play in that side of the park. We park our cars in front of it. Once a boy had broken one window. We later broke his legs.” He said in nonchalant manner which forced me to think whether breaking legs were that easy.

We finished our roohafza and came out of the house, relieved and tired. Next day when I, along with 2 other boys, walked into the chat shop that we used to frequently visit, it was busier than usual. There was a long queue and we waited for our turn. The shop owner saw us and went to one of the table and said something to the people sitting there. Suddenly 3 people got up from the table and asked us to sit there. We sat down and while they left the place, we overheard them.

“This is the boy who challenged Mr Ahluwalia and still he managed to be out of police custody in hours. He is so young but still had the courage to take on Mr Ahluwalia’s family. He must be having backing from a bigger gangster. It’s better to treat him good.”