Section 9 Enter the Angel

Had ho gaya! They had had enough.

Again the pitch was changed. This time one-eighty degrees to the original. The question of hitting through the gap almost did not arise.

The old question, may be the primordial.

Avinash replied, "Hit wherever." All were dumbstruck, but it was Avinash who wanted to fully appreciate this marvel in motion.

Suraj was pushing the ball - here and there, at times to the off, i.e. to the bat's half of the field which is the right side for a right-handed batsman; and at other times to the leg-side.

Avinash shouted, "You have to take runs." He felt Suraj won't be able to hit for four, and he will get tired taking singles by running between the wickets.

Suraj paid no heed. He went on playing with the ball. An excited Avinash shouted to others, "He won't take runs!" But even in excitement Avinash stayed cool, he had shown that in the floor, which was the big hall where they carry on their computer work, in a very secured environment.

Far, far way there was an multi-storied building, may be of twelve floors, or more. Did the whole building dazzle up? Did a particular grilled balcony seemed to be a mere four feet away? Everything became hazy. The field, the fielders became blurred. Avinash's red shirt was clearer than others, along with his fair skin, by which Suraj could recognize him. His facial structure vanished, with just a fair-bodied two-dimensional parabola showing up there.

The ball came, wider to off-stamp. Very normally Suraj extended his feet. He hit the ball. He saw everything. When nobody saw anything. He followed the ball all the way. It hit the balcony-grille of the apartment at seventh floor, probably, and then came back. The ball was hit with such ferocity unknown to Suraj that it came back to the field, and after two bounces, it froze in Suraj's hand, who by then had moved away to the proper place to collect it. All the way Suraj felt he was just taking a few steps.

"Where did the ball go?" Naushad asked, coming running, along with others. His black face having a wide smile.

"It was a six."

There was a pause.

"How?"

By then a man had come to the balcony, evidently hearing the loud bang that arose with the ball hitting the grille, and was standing there looking at the field and them. It was a tiny shape at long distance, but Suraj saw him clearer than others.

"You see the man?" Suraj pointed and looked at Naushad.

Nausad nodded.

"The ball had hit that grille and came back in spring effect."

Naushad's lips were wide apart. Very quickly the intelligent Naushad turned to the direction of the man and offered him a pranam, the Hindu way. Naushad was a Muslim, belonging to the minority community of India, and he was well-acquainted with the Indian gestures.

In no time the man was in the field. It turned out that he was a coach in a cricket club.