The interpreter of dreams, Dada,
a great cricket enthusiast was shocked to find empty Green Park stadium in one of his dreams.
No long queues, the colour ‘white’ missing, a few ‘black’ heads could be seen in a day-and-night limited-over match.
Dada, in his younger days used to be on the ground, by seven in the morning, with lunch box filled with Aloo-parathas, for a match scheduled to start at ten.
Tap water was still safe. Beer had not made its way among the youngsters.
Spectators, the only cheerleaders.
Dada had favourite cricketers,
but did not burn their effigies, when they did not perform, as per his expectations.
It is now ‘instant’ cricket; no second innings; no second chance;
do or die, next man is waiting; no longer a gentleman’s game; not uncommon are ugly events.
In the show of assertion, how ‘ungentle’ should one become,
Not the boards, not the chiefs, not the bookies, the lovers of the game can only stop the menace.
In an empty Green Park ground,
perhaps, Dada found the answer
to halt the damage to gentleman’s game.