Chapter 45: I am a Villager
I chuckled, relieved that the situation wasn't as dire as it had been reported. "Oh, that attack. It wasn't like that at all, Nanaji. They were just some Pakistani cricket fanatics shouting slogans about their team. The media always adds a little masala to spice things up. You can't believe everything you read."
My grandfather looked relieved, and my mother let out a sigh of relief. It was good to clear up the confusion and reassure them that I was safe and sound.
After finishing our meal, my grandfather and I headed out for a stroll around the village. There was a special twinkle in his eye today, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was up to.
Suddenly, he turned to me with a grin. "I bought a projector so everyone in the village could see your debut match!" he exclaimed. "I set it up under the old Peepal tree. Come, I'll show it to you."
As we walked through the village, my grandfather couldn't stop talking about all the preparations he had made for my big debut. He had even invited the entire village to come and watch my performance against Pakistan.
As we approached the Peepal Tree, I couldn't help but marvel at the structure my grandfather had built. Using wood and bamboo, he had erected a sturdy platform to hold the projector high above the crowd. And next to it was a DD Free Dish STB, directly connected to the projector. It was an impressive bit of jugaad.
As we got closer, I could see that a small group of people had already gathered under the tree. It wasn't quite dark outside yet, and I could just make out the faces of the crowd in the fading light.
But just as my grandfather was about to turn on the projector, the electricity suddenly cut out, leaving us all in darkness. It was a common problem in rural areas like ours, where power cuts were a regular occurrence.
"Ram Ram Ji," I called out, as I made my way over to the group.
"Ram Ram Beta," one of the older men replied. "Areee, Vipin. You're here. When did you come?"
"Just now," I explained. "I still have some time before my next match, and I wanted to visit home. Plus, I have my Class 12th exams coming up, so I thought I should come back and study."
"Good, good," the old man said, nodding his approval. "Everyone should learn from you. Here you are, playing for India and studying at the same time. And then there's our own children, just wandering around all day."
He invited me to sit down with them, and I gladly accepted. As we chatted, the old man called out to his grandchild, Raju, to cut some wheat from the field so he could roast it for me.
It wasn't long before Raju appeared with a sickle in hand, flashing me a smile before heading out to the farm to collect the wheat. The old man watched him go, a look of pride and love in his eyes.
As we sat under the Peepal Tree, more and more people started to gather. It seemed that Khajju Nana's shout had been enough to draw their attention, and hearing my name, most of the men in the village dropped what they were doing and made their way over to us.
Before I knew it, there was a crowd of people gathered around, all eager to catch a glimpse of the local boy who had made it big in cricket. Some of them were asking me about my training regimen, while others wanted to know about my experience playing against Pakistan.
"Hey, Vipin, are you alright? We heard that you were attacked in Pakistan," someone asked, concern etched on their face. But before I could answer and clear up the misunderstanding, someone else chimed in.
"Those Pakistanis are a bunch of terrorists. They can't stand us Indians and if we beat them, they try to kill everyone."
Despite the negative comments, the group soon began to shower me with compliments. "But man, you really screwed over their team with your incredible bowling and those sixes. The last one was like a missile from Pakistan to India! I bet they were shaking in their boots after seeing you play.
The voices and statements from every corner filled the gathering, and I couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm. I decided to inform them about the upcoming series against England, for which I had been selected. As soon as I mentioned it, the discussion quickly turned to how they should let me play in the Test Matches.
In no time, Raju returned with two large bundles of green wheat, which we promptly roasted over an open fire. Soon, everyone had a fistful of the warm, crunchy wheat in their hands, and the conversation turned to my recent experiences.
As I shared my stories and thoughts with my friends, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. This kind of meaningful engagement and connection is what I truly crave, and I couldn't have asked for a better group of people to share it with.
We talked about everything under the sun - from the challenges of living in a new place, to the joys of simple pleasures like roasted wheat. In that moment, I felt a sense of belonging and camaraderie that I knew would stay with me for years to come.
As the electricity returned, my grandfather quickly sprang into action and set up the old projector. With the flicker of the projection light, the makeshift screen came to life, showing the classic show Ramayan that was being telecast on Doordharshan. All around, villagers came to join us, sitting under the peepal tree with faces lit up by the glow of the projector.
As the night wore on and the fire crackled and popped, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the simple yet profound pleasures of life, and the wonderful people who make it all worthwhile.