In fond memory of Paati my Mata, Pita, Guru, Deivam
No one can even come close to describing the joys of galli cricket. Its as much a difference between seeing Gulab Jamun through a glass in a shop and tasting it in its entirety. 4.45-5pm brought in cool salty breeze from the Elliots Beach near Adayar signifying the end of workday. But for me, it meant cricket time! Like bees heading for the hive, my friends and myself congregated at the corner of 4th & 5th street to play galli cricket. At the flip of the toss-coin, shouts of “Machan”, “Dei” filled the air and it was play time, folks!
There was one big problem though! And the problem – I was a brilliant student! Allow me to wipe the smirk and disbelief off your face. My mom, enamored by my good marks in 10th grade, decided I was IIT material. She enrolled me into one of the coaching schools for IIT_JEE called “Brilliant tutorials”. And from then on, I became a Brilliant student. Within a month of going to their classes ( 6-8.30 pm Mon-Fri), I figured out that I would have to repeat my schooling to understand anything. The class timings proved to be the biggest enemy of my beloved galli cricket and I started hating going to their classes even more. End result – everyday, I turned up for classes 1-1.5 hours late sweaty and dirty.
This arrangement worked perfectly until that doomsday when I got caught. Paati, the towering personality in our home was the sole reason behind it. Her attention to detail was stunning. Nothing escaped her scrutiny. She was our airport security scanner at home. She immediately noticed the dirty clothes of mine and her faced posed 1000 questions all at once. I told her that before the classes, I played cricket for 30 mins and hence the dirty clothes. As an innocent boy at the time, how was I supposed to know that she was transforming herself to Sherlock Holmes to uncover the mystery of the dirty clothes? Unaware of the evil plot that was forming in her mind to catch me, I went to sleep dreaming of cricket.
All was good for a few days until that fateful day. As usual I was fielding at my favorite spot at short extra cover when suddenly I heard the two dreaded words “Badawa, come-naughty” coming from behind! I spun around to see my Paati with a furious look on her face less than 2 feet away from me. In sheer fright, I took off like a madman through the streets of Padmanabha Nagar. Huffing and puffing, I looked back to see the most unexpected thing -my Paati chasing me! She seemed to have shrugged off her old age and became this frightening 25 year young runner. Not knowing if it was PT Usha or Paati Usha chasing me, I ran for my life and close in pursuit my Paati in her madisar and her hair flying like Milkha Singh! It was a sight to behold! My friends and passers-by watched in horror at this chase not knowing whether the deer will escape or the lion will catch its prey. I was almost in sight of the market road which was my only escape route when from behind my Paati, in a superhuman alien like move, grabbed my Sanjay Dutt hair and pinned my down. Paati – the wolf in sheep’s clothing. I never even had an iota of thought that this frail old woman can take me down in a running race!
The rest was the usual. Paati banned galli cricket for the rest of my studies and even my friends didn’t play for a month after that horror show. She continued her merry ways of donning different characters at different times and never ceased to amaze me.
Wait ….”Tadang tam dum dum” – sounds from somewhere. Ayyo Paati again? Look behind, it is your spouse with a furious look on their face. What did you do??!!
Chinnaalu Paati & other anecdotes 