All the memories of the last year’s final flashed right in front of his eyes. How had he failed to find the sweet spot of the bat and how had the Ifthekar Cricket Academy lost the coveted Man Singh trophy to their arch rivals – Cricket Coaching of Indore(CCI). He had disappointed his team. It hurt. Amid the jubilation in the CCI team, his emotions were lost. Now after one year, it was time for revenge. But this time the ball was in his hand and rightly so. Ramiz was known for his fast in swinging yorker. With just 10 runs needed for CCI to defend the championship and three wickets in hand, a miracle was needed. Ramiz was having a dream run. With 13 wickets in the tournament, he was the leading wicket taker this year. A portion of the lower part of his t-shirt had acquired a shade of red due to his continuous effort to shine the ball throughout the match. He hoped to make full use of this shine now. With Kapil on strike, he knew where to bowl to him. He had placed Saad at gully specifically for Kapil. This was it – he said to himself, and started charging in. The seam moment was sufficient enough to entice Kapil to go for the extravagant off drive and Saad took an easy catch. One down. Co incidentally the next batsman, Rohit was a good friend of Ramiz. He was aware of Rohit’s high back lift. He bowled a fast delivery right up in the block hole and the sweet sound of timber was made more sweeter because this took the Ifthekarians a wicket closer to victory and Ramiz to his maiden hat-trick. A layer of tension as well as excitement was set in the middle when the last man Rachit came in to bat. The onus was on him to pull his team out of trouble and become a hero. This was a big moment for Ramiz. He was aware of the fact that the State team selectors had come to watch this Under-17 clash. This might just be the lucky break he was looking for. He charged in with some added intensity and produced a JAFFA – as the Australians call it. The wood was disturbed again. Before he could realize, Saad and Riaz had lifted him up on their shoulders and the entire team was bubbling with joy. It took a few minutes for Ramiz to sink in what had happened. He had written his name in the record books of Man Singh trophy.
A heavy knock on the door put an end to his reminiscence and brought him back to reality- a reality which he was not yet accustomed to, a reality which he had never wanted. It was the hefty milk man Keshav. “Salaam Ramiz bhai – how has the day been so far” enquired Keshav while pouring the milk in the steel container which Ramiz had brought from the kitchen. Ramiz, emotionless, replied plaintively “nothing much to do today. It has been a slow day so far “. Keshav left as soon as he was done with his work. Ramiz stood at the door for a while, giving a long hard stare at the fading light of the going by vehicles. After two minutes he went inside, put the milk container on the boiler and started reading the newspaper.
Fate had played a funny game with him. The career ending knee injury had brought his short cricketing career to a full stop. After taking 45 wickets for the Madhya Pradesh Cricket Association (MPCA) in Cooch Bihar trophy in the season of 98, Ramiz was knocking the doors of the national team. But Allah had something else in reserve for him. He had never imagined a slight sprain in the right knee would in a matter of days slaughter his aspirations. In a week he was down and out with a swollen knee which refused to bob down. The doctor’s verdict was out and it was a shock which was beyond belief for Ramiz. “You will never be able to play competitive cricket in future Ramiz”- these words from Dr. Hussain broke Ramiz from inside. He was devastated.
The damage made to his knee hurt him even today, more so because it reminded him of his painful withdrawal from the sport. Today he was a 23 year old man who had lost faith in Allah and the juice of his life had been soaked out. After the sad demise of his stint with cricket, he moved to Pune to pursue his BCA from University of Pune. In the yester years, despite giving most of his time to cricket he had managed good grades and had possessed a sharp mind. He tried hard to concentrate on the subjects. But all his efforts were in vain. He had lost interest in life, in general. And then Nazini happened.
She was living in Pune with her friend Ayesha in a girl’s hostel. She joined the university to take up DBM (Diploma in Business Management) when Ramiz was a sophomore there. She was being ragged near the canteen by his classmates. Ramiz, having a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper did not pay any attention to it. Nazini was a Muslim girl from the state of Punjab. She was fair, tall and had an infectious smile. The green colored chudidaar, a small tattoo of a pigeon on her left arm, brownish streaks falling over covering the left part of her face, a strawberry mark right below her lips imparted her eternal allure and the smooth fragrance of lily gave her grace and elegance. She had a sharp nose, thin lips and a curvaceous body. All of this made her look exquisite and every senior boy wanted to rag her and talk to her. Of course Ramiz was indifferent to all of this. He had choked out a niche for himself where he had taken up reading as his best past time. He was different from other boys of the college. He was a tall, lanky chap with a fair complexion. Most of the times he wore a stubble on his face. The girls in the college were attracted to him but stayed away from him because of his weird attitude. He was all by himself most of the time, reading a novel or an article on cricket. But then in every man’s life, there comes a moment when he is mesmerized by a girl’s beauty and that seems to him the sweetest thing in this world. Ramiz was about to experience that.
Two days prior to the examination, Ramiz went to the college library to study Economics. He had always been fascinated by the economics bible “Wealth of Nations” by Adam Smith in the past and had always enjoyed reading it. But today the book was no where to be seen. Just as he went past the right most shelf in the library, he saw the book lying open on a table in the corner. He took it, found a place for himself and began reading it. He was just half way through the first page when a pretty lady bent over and said in a calm voice “excuse me but I was reading that”. Ramiz rolled his eyes upwards to look at the owner of that sweet voice. Stunning, dazzling, heavenly – were the words that were running through his heart and soul when he saw Nazini. He was bedazzled by Nazini’s beauty and became speechless. Never before had he seen such a beauty. “I am sorry but I have an exam and I need to grasp the concepts so please give me the book, will you” said Nazini. Ramiz without uttering a word gave her the book. Nazini quickly got the book issued and left the library. Now normal, Ramiz realized his heart was stuck upon that girl. He had to talk to her. He decided to come to the library next day as well.
Ramiz had spent the entire night thinking about Nazini. In the morning he was quite excited. He wore his favorite t-shirt and went to the library, hoping to see her again. An hour passed. She did not come. But time passed very quickly for Ramiz because all this time he was thinking how to present himself, what to talk, how to start the conversation.
Another hour passed. Ramiz was becoming restless now. He had an exam tomorrow and he was wasting his time here doing nothing. “How stupid, I must be out of my mind to wait for a girl I don’t even know” Ramiz said to himself and took off. Just as he got up and started towards the door, he bumped into the same sweet girl he had met yesterday.
His motive was fulfilled. ”Oops I am so sorry” said Nazini. “Don’t be, I was looking for you. Actually I have the same exam which you have and to put it in simple words- I have messed it. I have not studied anything and now I am feeling nervous. Can you teach me something?” Ramiz lied and pretty convincingly too. Nazini was impressed by his modesty and agreed to teach him, but only after she was done with her own studies. She asked him to come to the library at 8 o’clock in the evening. Ramiz agreed willingly.
The joy Ramiz got in talking to Nazini was immense. He realized that this was for the first time after leaving cricket that he was happy. Immersed in happiness to such an extent that he had forgotten to ask Nazini what her name was. But he was having a good time. Ramiz reached the library well in time. Nazini was fifteen minutes late. After exchanging hello’s and introducing each other, they studied for a while. Nazini was a good teacher – quite expressive and understanding but her efforts were futile. Ramiz was paying null attention. He was busy gazing at her voluptuous body. Ramiz pretended very well that he knew nothing and so Nazini had to make that extra effort to teach. After a while they decided to take a break and went to the canteen. They hit off instantly. Nazini’s father Salim was a Ranji player in his days. She told him how her father was dropped 5 times on the score of 99 in the same match and how he had managed to marry his friend’s sister on the request of his coach. Ramiz told Nazini about his little sister Afreen who was a prolific dancer. They spoke a lot about their personal likings and disliking. They both had a flair for cricket and shared a common sense of music. For the first time Nazini looked at her watch and it was 2 o’clock in the morning. They had spent the entire night chit-chatting.
Both gave the examination half-awake and faired badly in it. But it did not matter to them. It was just a mid-term all the same. Long crazy talks in the park or at the coffee shop, hand-in-hand walks round the campus, silly pranks, staring at each other for long durations, canoodling each other became the order of the day for Ramiz and Nazini. They were having the time of their lives. In a matter of days they became very familiar and started caring for each other. One day they were sitting on the green grass of Shivaji Park. Nazini was looking as gorgeous as ever in a white cotton t-shirt and a blue denim jeans. She was gazing at the sky. Ramiz gave a hard long stare at Nazini. For a moment, the entire world came to a stand-still for Ramiz. He could not control himself. Very passionately he took Nazini in his arms and kissed her intensely on her lips. Initially she resisted but as his mouth melted inside her’s, she submitted. She reached the seventh heaven. Ramiz, experiencing the fragrance of her hair, murmured in Nazini’s ears “honey I love you”. Nazini, with a touch of hesitation and shyness replied – “love you too sweetheart”. Ramiz acquired a new role from then on- that of an ardent lover. His mind was totally occupied with Nazini. He was totally transformed. From being an introvert who did not pay any attention to what so ever was happening in his surrounding to being a jovial person who takes pleasure in life and does everything passionately was a metamorphosis which had a single cause – Nazini. Nazini had turned his life upside down. The spontaneity, the energy, the music that was absent in his life was back.
A month had passed. Things had become pretty serious between the two. It was a first for both. Both were immensely in love with each other. Quite often, Nazini used to stay back at Ramiz’s place. Night-outs at his quarter became a common place. Ramiz told how good a player he was in his younger days and how he lost it all. He expressed himself frankly and told her how important she was to him. Nazini reciprocated nicely. She had developed a soft corner for Ramiz and her love was truly eternal. They were living the best days of their lives. They were enjoying themselves. Nothing could have possibly separated them apart except …
Ramiz got a call at 4 o’clock in the morning from Yashoda hospital. Nazini was brutally hit by a maruti 800 at a high speed. The accident took place in a deserted locality near the railway station. It was only after a period of 25 minutes that some of the on-goers realized that Nazini was lying on the road – bleeding. When she was brought to the hospital, she was unconscious and bleeding badly from the rare portion of the head. They immediately put her under observation. The CT scan diagnosed an internal injury. Meanwhile, someone took Ramiz’s contact from Nazini’s bag and called him. Ramiz became motionless on hearing the news. He did not know what to do. He started praying to Allah, even though he had lost faith in him. He was desperate. He just wanted Nazini unharmed. He started reading Namaz on his way. He recalled how he first met Nazini in the library, how he lied to Nazini about Economics, their first kiss, long night-outs at his place, her fragrance, the sweet smell of her perfume. He remembered how they had quarreled one time. Ramiz had refused to agree to his mistake. Ramiz now wanted to say sorry. He wished Nazini was fine so that he can apologize, touch her, caress her, cuddle her, love her.
When Ramiz reached the hospital, Nazini was gone. She had taken her last breath during the operation 5 minutes back. Ramiz stood there – eyes wide open. It was all over. Ramiz sat there for an hour – absolutely numb. Then he dozed off. Next morning he woke up, asked for a newspaper and started reading the sports page.
smokin my life......its my terrain 
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