Chapter 2: Dream or Goal [1]
There was a playfield behind the house of Raghav a narrow lane.Then Raghav and Abhi went there to play cricket on that ground.
Other basic equipment to play the cricket was unavailable to them, therefore, on one side they used a dull brick wall as a wicket and three old white lines were drawn on it.
The pitch was a dusty patch of earth hardened by the blazing sun and the millions of games.
Abinav Varma, who already had a battered green tennis ball, was arguing with another boy the rule of one bounce catch.
It was a gully cricket to all Indian boys in their boyhood, as it was tumultuous, racketous, and the purest game of all the game Raghav had heard of.
These afternoons were a mere pleasure in his past existence. They had been his training ground now.
Raghav had a smile in face. It displays the extent of his lack of these days. Tension of job, family, money no longer exists since he is back to his days of freedom.
"Raghav, finally!" Abhi smiled, and threw him the ball.
"You're batting first. Before Ajay mom calls him in to do his homework we have to score fast.
Raghav picked up the bat, the wood of which, though cheap, was foreign and yet very familiar.
He took his stance. He could see the ideal balance of Sachin, the minimal crouch, the frozen head still in his mind.
He attempted to imitate it, yet his 12 year old body was like a puppet with twisted ropes. His back was all straight, his hold was awkward. The brain of the 42 year old was aware of the theory, but the 12 year old muscles were unaware of the theory.
Abhi walked a step or two and rolled. The tennis ball, which had no more right to be moving that fast, shot away the patchy ground and right at the head of Raghav.
Some instinct, trained by future practice and used in watching professionals, screamed out that he must pull. His manly reason worked out the course, the time.
But his body? His body flinched. He twitched back, and the ball bumped in the brick wall in the back of him with a loud whack.
"Out!" yellowed Ajay, the self-qualified umpire.
"First ball duck!"
The boys laughed. Young Raghav would have laughed normally. But there was something stinking with shame and frustration in the 42 year old within him.
It was his Cricket IQ, a curse and a blessing at the same time; his Cricket IQ enabled him to see his own glaring inadequacies perfectly clearly.
It is only a game, man, it is only a game, Abhi thought, picking up the ball.
"Your turn to bowl."
But Raghav shook his head. "Let me face a few more. Please just practice."
Raghav gazes at Abhi with tearful faces and this leaves Abhi emotional and to induce him to change his mind.
Always a good-natured fellow, Abhi shrugged. "Okay. But they will not count in the match.
Raghav nod to Abhi, " yes"
Abhi is emotional as everyone and this was also his weapon in the future since he died committing suicide due to cheating by his girlfriend.
Raghav says in his low voice " what a sentimental dummy this guy is.
Abhi who was about to bowled was looking at Raghav as he had not heard what was said and so he enquired. "What did you say?"
Raghav shakes his head.
No...I said nothing... you go on with your bowling.
I will do it different this time, but this time, I will do it to me and him as well, he said and took his bat firmly in his hand.
Abhi nodded and he shifted his concentration on bowling.
He again bowled with a full toss ball delivery.
This was the time when Raghav was not interested in scoring, but in surviving. He swung his bat down, and attempted to hit the ball midway.
He was late. The ball came to the point and rolled away. One ball faced.
The other dropped and he interposed himself blindly.
The second one hurled in all swing and he missed.The other one too missed. The third ball call was a full toss,he made a feeble push on Ajay. Fourth came and he maintained defence.
It was a painful process.
His brain was a supercomputer but he was a dial-up modem, an old and slow machine that was not very reliable. He did not resemble a budding cricketer, but looked more like a boy beating flies.
Yet, he persisted. He simply just concentrated on receiving some form of ball, any form of ball, behind the ball line.
On the tenth delivery, there was a clicking. Abhi rolled a complete roll or rather a ball that was easy to hit.
The ancient Raghav would have struck out all empty. The fresh Raghav, whose life had been spent in thirty years of analytic observation, perceived the chance of hitting the ball.
He changed his position, his manly judgment eliminating his boyish impulse, and sent the bat forward in a rough yet successful straight blow.
Surprisingly, the relationship was sweet with the ball flying past Abhi, bending twice and hitting the wall at the end.
It was not a good shot, but a clean one. The batsman had good control over it.
The other boys stood quiet a second in disbelief. So was Raghav himself.
Then the blue screen appeared again before his eyes.
[Mission Complete: A Single Step].
[Purpose: Run outside and challenge 10 balls in gully cricket against one of your friends. (Completed)]
Reward +1 Batting Technique Point awarded, 5 System Points(SP) awarded.
[Your stats have been updated.]
[Batting Technique: 10 -> 11]
There was a weak, warm stream of energy that ran through his arms. He could hardly have heard it, but when he tightened his hold on the bat it was different.
His position was a little better adjusted. It was a small modification, but to the highly sensitive mind of Raghav, it was titanic.
"Whoa, nice shot!" Abhi said, and was really struck.
Raghav was just about to reply to this when another message appeared in the system screen.
Growth currency is in the form of System Points (SP).
Host the upgrade System Store.
The eagerness that was everywhere conquering, Raghav thought, System store.
The screen was rotated and a simple menu appeared.
[SYSTEM STORE]
[Stat Points:]
[Stamina (+1 Point) - 10 SP]
[Strength (+1 Point) - 10 SP]
[Batting Technique (+1 Point) - 20 SP]
[Bowling Skill (+1 Point) - 20 SP]
[Fielding (+1 Point) - 15SP]
[Lottery:Roll the dice or bet on a chance skill or an item - 50 SP]
He looked at it with the prices at twenty points each in batting? He had only earned five. It was not going to be a video game that was going to be fixed in a rush.
The machine was strenuous, the way into it rugged. Each and every point would have to be won with sweat and hard work.
"Raghav? Raghuuu…? Do you play or will you stand there dreaming? "
Then the voice of Abhi roused him and he saw himself back in the dusty lane.
I replied " Noo.. let start "
Abhi nod as he went back for a run.
Up he ran, and bowled--a short, jumping strike which skittered along. The ball only travelled more quickly than Raghav figured it was supposed to, nevertheless his body was moving, as though it was from some repressed life that it recalled.
Thock.
A clear sound- hard, crisp, flawless. It struck the bat on the sweet portion of the tennis ball and flew over the head of Amit, caught between the morning sun and, hitting the dull blue wall at the end of the lane, crashed into the side of the fence.
The voice ringing was pristine and exciting.
For a moment, no one moved. The boys stood paralysed, with their mouths agape, and everything in the street had become very quiet. The crows on the electric wires even flinched in mid-caw.
Then came the exclamation. "Bhaai… did you see that?" one of the kids gasped.
Amit swiveled around and looked in disbelief. What the hell was that bro, that is, that is, that is straight off a dream sixer!
Raghav dropped the bat and his breath went on slow and steady. The impact was felt in his palms. The warmth in his arms, the one that had withered long ago returned.
He could feel it. Strength. Precision. Rhythm.
Again this is the feeling.
The other boys had no reply immediately, substituting their usual chatter by a kind of common amazement.
Even Raghav was somewhat paralysed.
That one good timed shot was a corroboration, a concrete fact which proved that the blue screen in his mind was not imaginary.
The +1 on his Batting Technique was not some simple number, but was actually physically changed, was a kind of rewiring of his muscle memory.
"Where did that come from?" A broad smile came to his face and Abhinav trotted away to bring the ball.
"Been taking secret lessons?"
Raghav shook his head, with a little smile on his lips. "Just got lucky."
The lie felt easy, necessary. He could not possibly describe that his coach was a futuristic, disembodied interface, driven by his own dying wish.
Back he was on strike, and the rest of the brief and disordered game something was amiss.
His 12 years old impulses could not restrain his wild swing and he swung out twice more, and his fine diving reception of Ajay, but he got himself another twelve scores, too.
They were not flashy six, but controlled pushes and defensive nudges that were put just right into position in between the rest of the boys.
With a Cricket IQ of 25, there was a new field in front of his mind. It was like a game of chess.
He foresaw the holes where there were no holes, imagined the mind of the bowler and knew the angles.
His flesh, however, was yet a awkward cube. The directives of his brain were perfect but his performance was a sham.