On a weekly off day I was leisurely reading Deshabhimani . A quarter-page advertisement caught my eyes. It was a competition based on the World Cup tournament sponsored by the daily and the jewellers, Malabar Gold, titled ‘Hit the Wicket Contest.' One has to send an SMS in the provided format predicting which team would win the match each day.
I thought cricket is a game of the aristocracy and firmly believed that a communist should not waste time either playing or watching it. So I remained totally ignorant of cricket. But my daughter's son Chethan Ajith, alias Ambu, is not only a cricket fan but also player. He is a member of his school team. Once he asked me for money to purchase a new bat. I gave money reluctantly reminding him of my conviction that cricket is a game of the aristocracy. Then Ambu told me prophetically: “Granddad, one day you would recognise that cricket is not a game of the aristocracy but one enjoyed by the masses.”
I didn't argue with him considering his age and the generation gap. Just because the cricket contest appeared in a communist daily, I sent an SMS predicting a tie for that match. Soon after sending the SMS, I forgot it. After a few days I received a phone call: “Did you participate in the Hit the Wicket Contest?”
Suddenly, I remembered sending the SMS. In haste I told the caller: “Yes, indeed. I sent the SMS.” He told me: “You won a prize. A microwave oven.”
I was dumbfounded. I asked him astonishingly: “What is the prize?” He confirmed: “Microwave oven.”
At the first instance, I thought he was cracking a joke, because the issue of microwave oven came up between me and my wife last month. My wife insisted: “You are a heart patient. We should purchase a microwave oven. It is good for your health. We can fry fish and chicken without oil.”
I thought of a suitable excuse and found one. “There is no power plug in our kitchen. So we cannot have the luxury of microwave oven.”
One day she told me: “Power plug problem is solved. I engaged an electrician and fitted one in the kitchen. We should purchase a microwave oven.”
I could not find any other excuse. I agreed explicitly and decided not to buy it. The very next day, I was admitted to the intensive coronary care unit of the Sree Chitra Thirunal Institute of Medical Science and Technology. While in ICCU I felt happy because the problem of microwave oven is solved without my purchasing it!
That was why when the caller told me about the microwave oven I thought that he was cracking a joke. He urged: “Please tell your name and address. We have to publish it in tomorrow's newspaper.”
I told him my name and address. He assured me that the time and place of prize distribution would be intimated later. I am awaiting it even though I am against the luxury of having a microwave oven in the kitchen.
When my quick-witted grandson heard of my winning the prize, he asked me: “Grandpa, did you send an SMS predicting a tie for any match?”
“Yes indeed. Why you are asking so?”
“Because you won a prize. No one who knows the ABC of cricket tournaments would predict a tie. Because of your luck one match was adjudged tie due to rains in the middle of the game. You would have been the only person who predicted a tie. So you won the prize.” That was the way luck came to me.
From that day onwards, I became an aficionado of cricket and started seeing every match of the World Cup tournament and participated in the newspaper contest daily. In the two semi-finals and the final my team won. So I am expecting the first prize, a car, because I don't have one!
Now I think cricket is not a game of the aristocracy but one enjoyed by the masses.
(The writer is a practising psychiatrist. His email id is: drnmmohammedali @gmail. com)
