1. Event: I bowled 100 times.
I intended to bowl 140 times, like yesterday.
There were too many people inside Shatabdi today.
I met Yash on my way to Shatabdi ground.
It seemed strange that he recognised me after having not recognised before . Twice. Just outside Satguru stationary and in Shatabdi. I made a boxing gesture that day.
After a brief discussion we parted ways. A flower dropped from a tree in MMHS. Almost where Abhishek Rajput and company had broken a glass window and burnt some fire.
I bowled for a while. Then a boy asked me to bowl elsewhere as it was disturbing him. I chose the place he recommended.
And lo and behold! There was the cap I thought I would buy. No. It’s a used cap. Nike. Made in Bangladesh. Darbar print. I wanted to buy a cap to don in marriage ceremony of my friend Abhishek. I received an invitation after many years to attend a marriage ceremony and it comes from an oath keeper. A Ph. D. This guy met me after two decades and we shared some memories. Then he talked about another sudden fire and fever in his family.
This cap doesn’t belong to me. I just picked it up from ground. Anyone who claims it can have it immediately. No need to buy another. I would drop it as soon as I get a new one.
There was that guy I played Cricket with. I also recalled Vivek who accussed me of chucking as I was too good and bowled him over continuously in stadium. I recalled many other things: how I went to MMHS after getting a two rupee note from a man who was sitting before a woman who was someone’s 27 year old wife. I was only seven. That girl took me to school. It was second hour already. The brother had disappeared. Rekha mam was teaching Mathematics. I got scared of big guys like Amit Shukla and Brijesh Chakraborty: reason? They had been there since kindergarten. And their skin’s color was fair…like English people.
What the **** is going on here?
I had completed the third class in Taparian and I was supposed to get admitted into fourth but they took me into second class based on my vocabulary.
I was building bridges then: unbeknownst to myself. Villages and towns. Then came Cricket. Jumping and frolicking.
I recalled another ragging phase in college. This might be called doctoral ragging. No degrees will be awarded this time around. Well played!