04 April 2011

Mr Perera's Cricket world cup .

The last thing Mr Perera  remember of last night is Nuwan Kulasekare driving one straight to mid on.

Then things got hazy….|
Ofcourse he could remember having a cup of ginger tea with Chaminda Vaas at the boundary lines.
A pretty Indian girl in the stands behind them shouting “ Ayyo , eka out Nathda?” .

Things seep through in blotches and patches. 

The warmth of a palm on his shoulder . The maroon Satakaya, the   moustache.   “ Go to the bed and sleep”.

Rajnikanth, lifting his Sarong up to his knees , looking straight at them and rolling the tip of his moustache. The most dangerous man in the world!

It is blurry still.  Arrack of the night gone is still drumming in his head.

The ring on the side table that  years of  cups of morning tea’s have sketched  sans  the wafts  of slow brewing  tea, seem odd. This is trouble. 
He knows the drill, this used happen during the pay days once  upon a time , but since he entered the retirement life it has been far and apart.
Did I say something wrong in my sleep?
“Lalani , Lalani , what happened to the match” , He bowls one slightly outside the off ,  enticing the batsman to let down the defense. Silence . Lalani offers no stroke.

“Lalani , did we win?”
“ dawalta uyanna elawalu genna one” ( Need to bring vegetables for lunch) , Lalani plays an unorthodox stroke , completely defeats the keeper .

He must be really in big trouble .

Even the day after  Lal’s son’s wedding , where he got carried away  in the spirit of the moment , got up to the stage and sang happy Birthday to Lalani, it wasn’t like this.
Sure , she dragged him off the reception before dinner . And was silent through the whole journey home. Yet that was it.

What really did he do last night?  
When old friends get together , men do foolish things. It is true that Mr Perera and the amber liquid and the dreamy haze has not enjoyed  each other’s company for some time. But surely , after 40 years of marriage , there’s very little that could have shocked Lalani that much.

Mr Perera notices the  Sunday paper on the Rattan chair, “ India wins the world cup” reads the headline .

The telephone rings . What is the time in Melbourne ?

It was just yesterday Mr Perera realised how during the last six weeks , they have talked more than the usual.  Before each match , she would bring a cup of tea sit by him and listen like  the days gone by . Awed by his wisdom, sipping Ice coffee at Fountain Cafe.  
She  would try to comment on batting line up and he would smile to himself .

During the last six weeks there was cricket .  And life seemed , normal.


He looks at the paper again and can’t help but to wonder whether Sanga got his bed tea.

1 comment:

  1. Brilliant stuff , this would have happened exactly in many a households back in SL. I like Both postings :)


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