The Dressing Room Of Eden Gardens

We Will Stagger On

Kolkata, 2001- Day 4- Session 1

Rahul was struggling. He was pretty sure everyone, from the smirking Aussies, to the intensely worried Laxman, knew. Laxi had farmed the strike, the day before, and he had only ended up facing some twenty odd balls. But it was harder today, the Australians were intent on getting him on strike, stopping those last ball singles.

The heat alone, from the moment he had stepped out of the AC rooms, had staggered him. But that wasn't the actual issue. He knew how to ignore the protests of his body. But the unrest of his mind was a completely different matter. Cricket to him, was mainly about concentration. An emptied mind. A haze free mind. A clear gaze, clear senses. Instead the world was far too bright and blur around the edges, he was down to only seeing the ball and the blurry shapes for fielders.

Instead of a clear mind what he had instead was a slightly delirious mind, because let alone one voice that shouldn't be there if he was in his zone; there were two voices that definitely shouldn't be there if he was in his zone. The first Rahul-like voice almost babbling about nonsensical things. The other, very Laxman in it's sound, was trying to keep track of what he was supposed to be doing but ever so often between the list of words trying to keep his head above water, would appear a phrase that would set the first voice off into another trot of nonsense. He would be going: stance, tap, ball, line, swing, stance, tap, ball, line, swing and then suddenly a random "The ground looks lovely to sleep on," or a  "Shane Warne looks freakish with sunscreen on his lips" would appear, throwing him completely off his game. And then it would be up to him and his reflexes to save his wicket because Rahul was genuinely not there in his own head at all.

Thankfully his reflexes, or rather, his muscle memory was doing alright for now, even if he felt he was getting extremely lucky. Mcgrath comes running, even from a far his eyes seemed to be glinting as he hunts his prey- or maybe that was the sun or Rahul's faulty eyes, he had no idea anymore. But he comes running, intent clear and as if moving off its own chord, he lifts his hands, leaving the ball for the keeper. He is forced to catch Mcgrath's eye as his arms swing down as the bowler strides faux-casually down the pitch just to stare him down. A challenge.

Rahul wonders if he should tell Mcgrath that it was practically useless to do anything of the sort right now, he could barely see straight for more than a few seconds, let alone try to make out whatever he wanted his eyes to convey. The faces were hazy and nameless for the most part, all the quips and teasing were redundant when he couldn't hear anything at all beyond the loud buzz in his ears.

"Hey," Laxman speaks, he sounds almost chipper, forcing Rahul to look at him a little confused.

Rahul bumps his hand before bending in half with exhaustion, "Hey," he whispers, not having energy to actually talk. Sourav was a dirty liar, Kolkata so had an awful March. He could barely breath, the air seemed so oppressive.

Laxman looks at the sky before looking at him "We have only half an hour or so for lunch".

Rahul looks at the sky a bit confused, trying to wipe the dizziness from his eyes, Laxi can tell time from the sky?

"Teach me," he thinks he murmurs. He isn't sure if it leaves his mouth or if he spoke in his own head.

An amused huff meets his ears a second later. It did leave his mouth then. He smiles a little before he hunching over his bat, mindblowingly exhausted. Steve had started holding back drinks break, a tactically genius move but he wished he wasn't at the recieving end of it. Not that that was going to do anything, he would much rather be carried off then walk back volunteerily, but water would be nice. He could almost imagine water in his dry mouth, trickling down his throat, the cool liqui- and he was dreaming again. He couldn't wait for lunch.

Laxman hoists him back to his feet, gently shoving him towards his end, "I will try to keep the strike. Just be there okay?"

Rahul smiles to himself as he walks to his end, preparing to watch the cricketing masterpiece his young companion was performing at the other end. People had no idea how much of a leader VVS Laxman was, they took his ability to bat with the tail for granted. When people spoke of leaders they would think of Sourav, of Sachin and sometimes even him. They didn't think of VVS Laxman who could gently turn the tides, guide his lesser partners with finesse until the team crosses the line. Right now, Laxman was just as much his leader as the one sitting in the dressing room with fiery eyes but a calm face. And for both his leaders, Rahul was willing to stagger on for another ball. Another over. Another session. Steve could hold back as many drinks as he wanted but he was going to stumble for as long as he physically could.