1983-Facts and Fiction

Dream Reality

In which the captain and vice-captain, holding the World Cup in the balcony of Lord's, try to convince each other it's real, and their team joins in with a myriad of conjectures.

***

"India race into the pavilion with the Prudential Cup theirs."

Kapil just wanted the guy to hand him the cup over already. No doubt the things he was saying were nice and complimentary but the last thing he wanted to do was to concentrate to decode the English accent and then concentrate more to think up an apt English response.

Behind him, Cheeka was howling like a wolf—his expression of joy, Kapil reasoned, it may not mean he'd gone mad.

Then he remembered Cheeka was already mad and couldn't possibly go madder.

He gave the Cup a polite pull; the presenter finally let go of it with a final, "Congratulations!"

"Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir," said Kapil, turning to his team, holding up the World Cup.

Cheeka howled louder. Kirti roared with laughter. Sunny bhai wiped his streaming eyes. Jimmy pa was nowhere to be seen, however, as one of the anchors took a mic and announced from the balcony—
"And the Man of the Match is, thanks to his valuable 26 runs and the wickets of Dujon, Holding and Marshall—Mohinder Amarnath!"

Now Jimmy pa was fighting his way from the farthest end of the crowd of teammates, grinning so wide that Kapil beamed back, not even noticing when Ballu and Yash eased the Cup away from his hands.

The two of them joined Clive Lloyd for the interview as the hooligans of the Indian team fought over the Cup, almost dropping it twice and each trying to keep it in their arms. Kirmani, in fact, devised an on-spot contest of 'who can hold the Cup for the longest' and he and Dilip kept count in seconds.

"Cheeka...1...2...3...4...5..." droned Kiri.

"Kirti...1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8..."

"Maddi...1..."

"Kirti, 9...10...11..."

"Maddi...2..."

"HAHAHA MADDI PA, YOU'RE ELIMINATED!"

"Cheeka...6...7...8..."

"GIVE IT TO ME! JUST FOR ONE SECOND, CHEEKA! IT'S NOT YOURS! NOR YOURS, KIRTI!"

"Take it yourself, Yash!"

"Ballu—"

"15...16...17..."

"Kirti 20...21...22..."

"Stop this game and let us hold it..."

"Yeah, and let Roger hold it, Kirti. He's our highest wicket taker!"

"Oh, no—no, that's fine, Patla, let them keep it."

"CHEEKA—DON'T—DROP IT!"

"KIRTI, LET GO!"

"LET GO YOURSELF!"

"Christ," muttered Jimmy, glancing back as Llyod was talking to the anchor. "Can't they keep it down for, like, one minute?"

Kapil, right in front of the anchor, laughed.

"Shh!" chided Jimmy.

But the laugh was infectious, and soon Jimmy found himself laughing, too.

"Congratulations, Kapil—" The anchor turned towards the winning captain.

"KAPS IS ABOUT TO SPEAK, QUIET!" they heard Sunny roar, and there was a stretch of blessed silence while Kapil and Jimmy gave their interviews, except for a silent tussle between Cheeka and Yash, comprising lots of shoving and stepping on each other's feet.