Bombay Romance ♡ COMPLETED

[ 22 ] I Will Marry Him! ■

The huge concrete seating around the Club's green cricket ground fills up swiftly as people anticipate the match to begin anytime soon. At a distance, she sees Amarnath and Murali looking around for empty seats. Amarnath notices the two empty seats beside Gauri and promptly looks away.

Gauri frowns despite herself. There is an empty seat right next to me. What else is this man even searching for?!

Let him sit wherever he wants! How does it bother me? she tells herself sternly the very next second. But her eyes still dart towards him. And her heart (she hates to accept it) does a quick bounce when Murali drags Amarnath to the seats beside her.

She just tosses her hair back and pulls her floppy hat lower. She has changed into a front-knot orange blouse and a high-waist skirt with a wide brown belt. Amarnath can smell her fresh lavender mist perfume which makes it hard for him to resist a smile of strange contentment.

'Amarnath is playing today right?' the old lady asks her granddaughter. 

'Yes,' Gauri says. 'She's talking about Mohinder Amarnath,' she clarifies to Amarnath. He nods, hoping his face does not betray his erupting emotions. The very thought that his arm might brush his arm with hers makes his heart palpitate.

'They are scared!' Gauri hears one of the hundreds of audience in the next row assess the English team's emotions.

'They ought to be,' his friend says offhandedly. 'We are the defending World Cup champions!'

Gauri is amused by the way he ignores the fact that the England team reclaimed the Ashes trophy from the Australians just a couple of months ago. 

'They took bowling first?' the old lady seems disappointed. 'I wanted to see India batting first.'

'It depends on the pitch,' Gauri replies. 'It's a wet pitch. Wet pitches favour the bowlers. The ball is gonna swing.'

'Switch on the tape recorder,' Murali tells Amarnath and receives a sharp kick on his ankle.

'But the weather forecast says it is gonna be a sunny day,' she continues. 'The pitch will dry up during the second half and favour us when we get down to chase.'

Amarnath stares at her in sheer surprise. Because suddenly, she doesn't feel alien anymore, differing from him in every possible way.

'You know cricket?' he asks.

She blinks. 'Yeah. I watch cricket,'

'Haan Ji, but ... girls generally do not know these thi-'

'Exactly how many girls have you spoken to about cricket?'

Amarnath has not. But isn't it true? he thinks. Girls aren't interested in the game. 

'Mera matalab these are ... complicated things in the game,' he says.

'And why's that? You think our brains are incapacitated to comprehend them?' Gauri questions.

Incapati... Amarnath begins to repeat the word mentally.

'I do not wanna hear another remark from that misogynistic brain of yours.' she says in a bored voice.

Miso-what? Amarnath thinks testily.

'She is giving gaali to your brain,' Murali tells him helpfully. Amarnath swears at him in Punjabi.

'By the way, India has a women's cricket team too,' Gauri says and adds offhandedly. 'Not that I expect you to know such things.'

Really? Amarnath wonders. He really had no idea.

Just then, the English team's opening batsmen walk onto the ground, swinging their bats. One of them is the captain, Bob Willis, tall and lean, his wavy amber colour hair bouncing as he walks briskly towards the pitch. Gauri and many other girls scream out loud, cupping their palms around their mouths.