The Ballgame And Grandfather Poem by Seema joglekar

A Cricket test match on T.V, the hours dragged on,
The players were very much in love with their ball
No one wanted to hit hard. They took their singles.
Thus for an hour it went on.
Ajja (Grandfather) grew restless, Dad was appallingly edgy,
I give them their morning tea with an overdose of sugar,
Ajja thoughtfully remarks-“God knows what she will do in her husband’s house.”

When his almost blind eyes failed to catch the score
On the screen, there would be a riot. I would be called in
To settle the score of the balls, to bring peace in the house.
If I faltered Ajja said “How will you keep your husband happy? ”.

To Ajja Ganguly became Candh-huli (Tiger Balls) ,
Tendulkar became Candh-urul- kar (Roll the balls) ,
Obviously the names came from that part of the country
where names had meanings attached.
No amount of correcting convinced Ajja,
He felt they stood up to their names.
If I insisted, he’d say” How will you keep your husband happy? ”

If they hit a six, like a little boy he would jump up and down
Lauding the players for their balls. And call me to join him
in his celebration from the kitchen. If I delayed in joining him
There would be more things to learn to keep my husband happy.

If a wicket fell, the house would be brought down,
For him, the food would be uncooked or the house was not in order,
His fingers would point in all directions, till they rested on me,
“Now you husband would surely lose his temper”.

They would keep this up for five long days,
And I still hadn’t learnt to keep my husband happy.
At my wits end, I would thrust a handful of garlic at them to peel,
Then like babies with mouthful of candies, they would
Watch the game in complete silence.
My sense of revenge and their sense of achievement.
The ball game rolled on- -
Finally, I knew enough about the ball game to keep my husband happy.