Today was a magical day.
I entered the work site with the smell of sandalwood burning in the air. It was a thin perfume that really was an inviting change from the typical campfire smoke smell that tends to linger around the building. The smell reminded me of the typical hippie/teenage rebellion days of burning incense and acting cool, but without all that angst. It has been said that the sense of smell brings back memories better than any senses, and I’m sure that one will now remind me of that moment of crossing a street into Kamala Mills, Mumbai, India.
Today was also special for more reason: Indian Burgers day! We bought Vada Pav’s (Indian Burgers. Batter-fried spicy potato cakes served in a bun) for the entire class (and then some). It just so happened that there was a finals Cricket match currently playing. The teams were India vs. Australia.
I’ve been to many a sports bar, game, and party…but nothing could have prepared me for a heated cricket match. Now, as a red-blooded American, I’ve been programmed to not recognize British imperial (and much more world-popular) sports like Soccer and Cricket. America as a whole doesn’t understand cricket and it’s VERY strange ways. I’m here to say that I’m hooked on cricket.
We took our entire classroom down to the company cafeteria, where a TV was showing the match. About 50 employees were huddled around, not including the 40 or so from our AOL classes who filled the area to (if such a thing existed here) fire-code-breaking levels. The air was electric. Free Indian Burgers were being passed around as the entire room would occasionally burst into cheers with every run scored. You could feel the tension in the air, you didn’t need to understand the game to know that the score, whatever it was, was close. Real close. It was coming down to the wire. India just needed a few precious runs to win the game, every single person in the room was sitting on the edge of their chairs, half-eaten Indian Burgers put on hold. An out…damn! Next batsman came up to the wickets, the last out of the game. This was the proverbial it. Even us dumb yanks were glued to the screen as if this was the last out of the last inning of the last game of the World Series. Another out, Australia won.
A disappointment? Yes. But it was that moment when cultural boundaries were shattered, when it didn’t matter if you understood the game or had never seen it before that fused every single soul in the room together. Any sport that can take any walk of life, and tear down the walls of caste, religion, race, and sex has won my seal of approval. So it is in my best interest that I learn how to play cricket. I’ve got a good basic understanding of the fundamentals, so this weekend I have a goal of purchasing a cricket bat and a few cricket balls (heh, heh, heh) and learning how to play.
Stay tuned for more cricket news!