Growing up, cricket was never really my thing. It was Dad's.
I still remember fighting with him for the TV remote because I wanted to watch cartoons, while he'd somehow switch the channel back to cricket whenever he got the chance. 😂
Back then, I couldn't understand what was so interesting about watching 22 people chase a ball around a field for hours.
But somewhere along the way, I started sitting with him instead of fighting for the remote.
Then I started asking questions. Why was that a no-ball? Why was that wicket so important? Why was Dad shouting at the TV when a batter played a stupid shot?
Eventually, I became the one explaining things, arguing over selections, defending players, and getting just as emotionally invested as he was.
And cricket slowly became our thing.
I remember the tension of watching India chase a target in a World Cup, the heartbreak of 2023, the madness of IPL nights, and those arguments that somehow became more entertaining than the match itself.
We'd celebrate a six as if we'd personally scored it. We'd blame the captain for every questionable decision. And after a heartbreaking loss, we'd spend another hour discussing what India should have done differently, as if the team management was waiting for our analysis. 😭
Looking back, I don't think I remember every scorecard or every result. I remember where I was sitting, what Dad said after a wicket, the arguments, the celebrations, and the little moments in between.
Now I've moved to another city for work, and I often find myself watching matches alone.
The game is still the same. The crowd is still screaming. India can still hit a last-over six and make my heart race.
But something feels different.
There's nobody beside me to exchange that look with when a ridiculous decision is made. Nobody to argue with over a selection. Nobody to turn to after a wicket and say, “Ab toh gaya match.”
Sometimes I wonder whether I've slowly lost some of my passion for cricket, or whether I've just grown so used to experiencing it with my father that watching it alone feels incomplete.
Maybe, as a kid, I thought Dad was teaching me to love cricket.
Perhaps he was also unknowingly creating memories that I'd carry with me long after I left home.
I still love cricket. I just miss the version of it that existed when watching it meant sitting beside him.