Dropped Catch - A Short Story

“Grandpa, they are showing you in BBC”, screamed the youngster sitting in the couch of one of the upper middle class homes - the Home was situated in a small town in Pakistan more than 100 miles away from Karachi.

An old man in his late sixties, came out of his room, in response to the call from his grandson. Number of trophies arranged on the shelf portrayed that the old man was a sportsman at some point of time earlier in his life, when his hairs were still dark. The Cricketing kit in the cupboard showed that the sport he played was cricket – the game called by great English Satire writer Bernard Shaw as the one played by 11 fools play and watched by 11 thousand fools.

“You just missed it” – said the teenager, as it took a bit longer for the old man, now suffering from the knee problem to reach the living room.

“Thats OK, tell me what the program was about?” inquired the former Pakistan Middle Order batsman Arshad Khan.

“An interview with this year's Nobel Peace Prize Winner, Ravichandran Chandrasekhar”

“Great man, he was” – commented the old man, and the smile that came to his face, as soon as he heard the name of the former Indian Opener, was quite apparent. The Indian Cricketer had won the Nobel Peace Prize Award, for his contribution towards Indo Pak Friendship through his now famous NGO, “Across the Borders”. His effort, had lead to more meaningful dialogues and anti terrorist activities by both the Governments, and also better medical aids, education and food distribution for people belonging to both the nation.

“That guy talked a lot about you. He said you were the major reason for what he is today. He also added that you were the catalyst for his transformation. But you have never told me about it.” – asked the teenager, unaware how his grand dad had inspired a cricketer from the across the border to become such a great personality.

The Old man smiled once again. He decided to share what happened on that significant day, the day on which he played his one and only match for the Pakistan Cricket Team.
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40 years earlier:

“Ravi is batting on 99. One short of a brilliant century”, - Laxman Sivaramakrishnan commentating on Neo Cricket, was all the more excited as a fellow Chennaite was on the verge of scoring his debut hundred in just his 8th ODI against the arch rivals Pakistan, that too in front of his devout home crowd at Chepauk.

Arch Rivals – for Ravichandran Chandrasekhar, Pakistan was more than mere arch rivals. They were his enemies. His dad had been killed in a terrorist attack, supposedly carried out by Pakistan sponsored terrorist (as per Indian media and Ravi) or Freedom Fighters (as per Pakistani Media). For Ravi, hundred against Pakistan, was not merely a hundred. It was more of a tribute to his Dad, who was one amongst the many who went to visit a market that was bombarded by fanatics.

He hadn't being hiding his feeling towards his neighboring country from the media or any one else in the lead up to the match. Every one was aware that he badly wanted to score a hundred as a mark of respect to his dad. Even his opponents were alert to it.

His captain, a calm person, on and off the field, had made it obvious that he doesn't mind him settling scores with Pakistan, as long as it was within the spirit of the game. “If you over step even a bit, I will be the first person to chastise you, even before the match referee does it”, he had warned. The newly appointed Pakistan Skipper, wanting to avoid any altercation, has made it clear to his team mates, that there should be no sledges when Ravi is batting, especially sledges related to his father.

When the forty ninth over of the Indian innings started, Ravi was nine short of his century. The first two deliveries were half volleys outside the off stump, and he drove them to extra cover boundary easily, to move to 99. “Cover Drive is his bread and butter shot”, the commentators remarked. The third delivery was also a half volley outside the off stump, or that's what Ravi thought. With his mind, preoccupied with his desire to payback Pakistanis, what Ravi failed to grasp was that he was facing the best Pakistani bowler, who was too good a bowler to bowl three consecutive loose deliveries.

The third one was actually an intentional slower one, and Ravi only ended up lofting the ball high in the air. The Cricket savvy Chennai crowd, at once knew that the shot did not have enough muscle to carry it over the boundary, and they all stood up silently, as the Pakistani débutante Arshad was happily settling beneath the ball.

The young Pakistani had already showed his fielding powers in the match by taking two first-class catches, and also saving around fifteen runs. Fielding amidst the other sloppy Pakistani fielders, he had been making big difference to the side till then. Every one, including Laxman Sivaramakrishnan, had resigned to the fact that Ravi would be dismissed for 99. It was then that incident happened.

Arshad, some how managed to drop that sitter. Suddenly the entire Chennai crowd turned vociferous, as the rest of the Pakistani fielders looked in complete disbelief. Every one expected Ravi to celebrate passionately, given the build up, but to the utmost disbelief of the media, which was eagerly waiting to capture the instant of celebration, he just turned and raised his bat, and then looked at the sad face of Arshad.

Suddenly the chat, he had with Arshad, in front of his hotel room, on the eve of the match flashed across his mind.

“Hi Ravi, it seems you want to take revenge on us”.

Ravi didn't reply and remained silent. Unlike his fellow team mates, who were close buddies to their counterparts across the border, once they stepped outside the cricketing field, Ravi had never spoken with any one of them. However, the young lad continued his conversation without being bothered about the silence from his counterpart.

“As of now, you might think that every Pakistani is a bad person. You might soon realize in near future that it is not so. There might be a situation, where in, a Pakistani himself,could help you achieve your tribute to your dad.”

Now, standing there, having completed his hundred, Ravi realized, Arshad had actually helped him realize his vision of scoring a hundred against Pakistan. For the first time in his life, Ravi realized that not all Pakistani’s were bad.

Later, Ravi would start to read a lot about Indo Pak issues, and will come to the realization that the people of both the countries have suffered a lot because of the misunderstanding. He would go on to start a NGO to break those misunderstanding, and he was always aware, if not for that dropped catch by Arshad, he would have missed so many good things in his life, including his wife from Lahore.

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“I am proud of you grandpa, that guy has done a lot for both the countries. And to think, he wouldn't have done any thing, if not for you, I feel proud to be your grand son” said the teenager.

“I'm not worthy of these praises” – one or two drops of tears were rolling out of Arshad’s bespectacled eyes, but his grand son didn't notice it.

“You mean to say that you actually did not drop the catch deliberately, but you really dropped the catch?” questioned the teenager.

“No. I would have taken that catch even in my sleep. I did drop it intentionally” now the tears in his eyes was visible even to his grandson.

“Then, I don't understand”, - said the confused grandson.

“I dropped the catch, not to help him score a hundred, but to get a nice posh apartment for myself in Karachi. I dropped the catch, not to promote Indo Pak friendship, but to save myself from the clutches of the match fixing mafia.” – The former Pakistan player had began to cry by now.

Such is the nature of the world that a Match Fixing Mafia could actually end up achieving, what UNO’s and Peace talks can't achieve. Some times, even the worst crimes, actually end up doing more good…..

The Stolen Story - Short Story

“I loved your story”

Aravind looked at his communicator twice to make sure that it was indeed, Aishwarya who was messaging him. He didn't expect that this would happen even in his wildest of dreams. He double checked it, only to substantiate the truth. It was the same Aishwarya, whom he had been following subtly for more than a year, had messaged him now.


He could not believe his luck. His friends wont believe that the most gorgeous girl in his office (at least according to him) did in fact message him. To add to the pleasure, she also added him as a friend in the communicator.


“Friend in the communicator – this is just the first step”, he said with in his mind, and started to think of a terrific reply, that would catch her off guard. He wanted his first reply to be some thing that she could never forget. One, two, three, minutes passed busy, but he couldn't think of any proper reply.


Meanwhile she went to “Away” status, and he started cursing himself for the missed chance. With his brain not able to conjure up any mesmerizing reply, he typed a mere “Thanks”, and waited eagerly for her to come back and reply to it. Time passed, and he was continuously staring at the communicator, to make amends to his earlier hiccups once she returns back. In the interim, he had also declined his friends invite to go and have a cup of coffee, citing end of day work as an excuse.


“I loved your story” – he reread the message in the communicator. Your story – Now this was an issue. It was not his story. He, a lover of prank right from his childhood days, had stolen his friend’s short story (who was on maternity leave now) and posted in MCT INK for the sake of fun. A week later, he was all set to post an apology mail in INK for the same, when Aishwarya had messaged her. Now he was in a dilemma.

Inside his brain, the moral ethics - his parents, grand parents and teachers inscribed in him for the past twenty five years of his existence - wanted him to tell the truth to her. However the basic animal instinct in him, that had always understood, that to evolve as a species, one needs to keep attracting the opposite sex, was forcing him to tell this one simple lie. At last the moral ethics got disseminated, and it was the basic instinct inscribed into his genes, millions of years ago that won. He deleted the apology message that he was about to post.


“I enjoyed reading the story very much. One of the best stories I had ever read”, the blinking of communicator made sure that Aravind returned back to present, from his dilemma. Though he knew, he couldn't show it openly, he tried to steer away the conversation away from the story as quickly as possible. As Aishwarya, was also more interested in chatting about the latest movie she watched with her friends last weekend, it was only a moment of time, before they moved away from the story.

An hour later, he was still chatting with her. He knew he would miss his 5.20 shuttle, but he was not bothered about it a bit. “Tight Schedule; lot of work to complete”, he would later say to his mother in the night. That night, he couldn't sleep properly, as he was constantly thinking about her. He felt that was the best day of his life. However, deep within his heart, he couldn't avoid thinking, how she would react when she comes to know, that the story that made her chat with him first, was not his creation. He tried to divert his mind from such thinking but failed and spent a sleepless night.

Next day, he accidentally met her near the Steam Cart in FC2 during the Breakfast and introduced himself in person for the first time. Accidentally was how he described it to her. Reality was very far away from it. He met her only because, he knew exactly at what time and where she takes her breakfast daily and went there at the right time, without being tagged by any of his friends. From then on, he continued to have breakfast with her, and not only his breakfast companions changed, but also the amount of time he spent to eat breakfast tripled.

Week later, they also started having lunch with each other, and for couple of days, dinner also, as they had to stay late, not because of project work, but because they were sitting in CCD for nearly two hours to have a cup of coffee. He had earlier made fun of all those who chat for hours sitting there, but now with her close by, he didn't even realize that he had spent nearly two hours there. He realized it only when his friends showed his communicator status as away for more than two hours.

He initially thought he would get bored with her gradually, after few days of chit chat. But what happened was that, he started to think of her more and more with each passing day. Some of his friends called it as Infatuation, but then he was not so sure; he was really confused. He decided to let it go on like this for some more time, and then make a decision.

It was over a weekend, when he went to his relatives house in a remote village to attend a marriage; he realized how much he missed her. When ever he had been to the place earlier, he used to love its climate, clean fresh air devoid of pollutants, and its fresh streams. But now, he hated that village, for he couldn't get proper signal in his mobile. It was then and there that he decided that he is going to propose to her without any delay.

But he knew he had couple of confessions to make, before he could propose to her. First to his friend, who was in Hospital then, whose story had been the precursor for this relationship; his friend was more than delighted to be of help to him, and didn't give a damn about his friend posing her story as his.

Next he wanted to tell the truth to her. He knew “All is fair in Love and War”, but then that was only until, you won her heart. After both of them started loving, he wanted to make sure that there were no secrets between them. So he decided to confess to her that he didn't actually write that story that made her chat with him in the first place. He didn't know, how she will take it, but he had no doubt what so ever, that there is no way that he is going to conceal it from her.

The next day, after breakfast, he took her to Leisure block. He was much tensed and the anxiety had made him sweat profusely. He tried to speak up couple of times, but air refused to flow through his vocal chord. As she was walking casually, without realizing the emotions he was going through, he called her out.

“Aishwarya”

“Yes” – she turned back as she replied, and the smile refused to go away from her lips.

“Aishwarya, I had been thinking of hundreds of ways of how to propose to you, but then, I felt all looked cinematic. I am not sure, I can live without you. So I just want to say, I wish to marry you, if you consider me worthy enough to your husband. But before you answer, I also have a confession to make.” - He then confessed the truth.

She listened very carefully. She knew Aravind was looking deep into her eyes, to find out, how she is going to respond to his confession. It was seeing the true love in his eyes, that she decided that she also ought to tell him the truth.

She replied calmly “I also have a confession to make”.

He feared the worst. He was sure the confession is going to cause him heart break. He prayed to the God for the first time after a long time. The last time he prayed was when the Internet page was about to display his seventh semester arrear results. But he knew this result from her, was more crucial than that one.

She continued, “I have never read a story in my life, including the one that your friend wrote. However I always liked the smart handsome guy, who kept following me every day, and only used the story as an excuse to chat with him.”

Aravind held her hands happily, aware that if he had not made the confession, he would have never known that she had been reciprocating his love for a long time and the “Stolen story” just served as a bridge for both of them to communicate their inner desires.