He stood there, like a rock on the plains of Gubbare, staring at the
umpire with the shining willow on his shoulder; as if the Lord Hanuman had
descended on the earth to challenge the Asuras. There on the crease, Rohan was
the embodiment of the Anjaneya avatar, without relenting to the pressure of the
appeal from the opposite team. He didn’t budge an inch, except that he bent
himself to retain the balance after the ball had hit his pads and moved away.
He had stepped on the front foot to pull the ball, which evaded his timing to
kiss his misplaced pad to take the duck for dinner. The appeal was so loud from
all the sides of the ground that it seemed as if it was pre-planned. It stuck
us with a huge surprise that even the square-leg fielder had jumped
simultaneously. The umpire had raised his finger high above his head, like the
Indian flag. The spectators had cheered the capture of our Rohan’s wicket with
a reverberating applause, but looking at him who was standing in the midst of
the wickets challenging the umpire, the spectators suddenly mellowed down.
‘Hey! What is he doing there?’ asked Manas.
‘He is saying he is not out.’ replied Pinto.
‘But, Umpire has given him out,’ Said Manas
‘Yes, but it is his ball and stumps,’
replied Pinto.
‘But they have to bring their ball, no?’
asked Pradip in surprise.
‘It was their condition to play this match,’
said Manas scratching his head.
‘Then he has to decide when he will be out,’
said Pradip.
‘What nonsense,’ said Manas.
‘He is not out,’ Someone said from the back.
Others also joined him in contesting the umpire’s decision. We were very badly
placed with the score. We needed 12 runs with two wickets in hand and 8 balls
remaining. If this wicket falls then we do not have anyone to score the runs.
‘Let him come back,’ said Manas.
‘Umpire
is cheating,’ Pradip stood up stretching his chest wide enough to hold a bull
by its horn, embracing me with joy of saving ourselves from the clutches of
defeat.
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