Commemoration of reminisce.

I am supposed to be playing a cricket match tomorrow. Actually, in just 6 hrs to be precise.
Some local team here has given me an opportunity to represent them in the local league.
We are going to play with the tennis ball on some base ball ground having a thick grass cover.

Last weekend, I was with these guys, practicing.
The word “practice” means so much. It sounds almost like an attempt towards rediscovering myself!!!
Rediscovering myself within six hours over a period of two days.

It all started with the sight of a few guys practicing. I saw them when I entered the ground.
They were kind enough to give me a warm welcome. Somehow, I felt that I knew them since ages…
Of course I did. After all, don’t we share the same madhushala.

Then I was asked to bat.I felt as if my life was at stake.
Tennis Ball cricket has never been my cup of tea and here I saw myself under a scanner.
All of a sudden I saw that I had developed some bad habits. My stance was improper. Back lift was hopeless…etc … etc
Soon I realised that I was not getting my body weight right, committing myself too early and an array of things going wrong.

Slowly, I overcame those flaws and got into the rhythm. All this on my day out in practice.

But, there something more waiting for me on the next day.
We were scheduled to play a practice match against a good team.
I went on the ground with some butterflies in my tummy. Ghosh!!! Where did they come from? At the first opportunity I got, I went for a catching session.
Then came the toss and the match started.

I sat on the bench counting the number of players in the team. We were 13 of us.
So I went on with my assessments.
I must be in, This guy is not a good batsman. And, that one is not a good bowler. May be they will let me play to give me a feel.
Ok. I might open the batting or may be just do the finishing part of it.
Where will I be fielding? Point… Mid off… or deep fine leg. I hope these guys know I am good in the infield.

The few hours I spent on the ground that day were spent in anxiety. Each time the batsman got out I looked at the captain.
Each time the bowler was changed I went and had a word with him. Each time the ball came towards me I made sure it does not pass.

Since long cricket had given me just two feeling - the joyous tones after a good performance or the despair after a loss.
I had almost forgotten how things used to be when I was a newcomer. The days when I struggled to make a mark in the teams that played for.

Now that I await another opportunity of playing, these thoughts reoccur.
I might not be in the playing 11 tomorrow. But I want to be there to know how it feels to be a struggler again.

Elapsed memories are recalled when we remember that we have gone beyond them