The house stood perched on top of the hill. The road that curved up towards it from the ground below was lined with houses on one side and trees on the other. None of the other houses could match the elegance of this one. It stood out with its stately elegance towering above all the others. Its white shaded balconies looked out on the world below from within their hooded interiors. It was as if they were laughing at the mediocrity of the lower dwellings which made its supremacy more pronounced.
Radheya loved the house.
He would stare at its huge iron gates that stood sternly forbidding any trespassers, and yearn to tread on the soft lawns that lay beyond it. He would walk all the way round the house and stare up at its huge French windows. The blinds were always drawn across them making it appear that the house was empty. He often wondered if anybody did live in the house?
Radheya lived in a small one room house at the bottom of the hill. Every Monday he would walk up the hill with his father to offer prayers in the temple that stood on top of the hill. He would pass the house whenever he went to the temple. That was how he had seen the house for the first time. Its stoic and elegant structure had caught his attention. There was something about the house which he could not describe. It was not like any other house. A peculiar attraction pulled him towards it and Radheya was determined to solve this mystery.
Haridas, Radheya’s father, was a clerk at a government office. Couple of years back, his wife had succumbed to Cancer. He was still not able to come to terms with her death. Moreover, the disease had rendered him penniless. He had taken loans from all his acquaintances in order to meet the medical bills and now he was burdened under the weight of repayment. He worked hard to meet all his debts and hence was away from home for most part of the day.
9-year-old Radheya therefore was left to himself. However, that helped him in a way. Being a curious, imaginative and spirited boy, Radheya was happy to be left to his devices. It gave him the liberty to explore the world in his own way. Curiosity may have killed the cat but it certainly helped to keep him alive.
He went to a small school which hardly bothered about its students and what they learnt. But Radheya made sure he got his share of education from the World around him. So, there was hardly anything that he did not explore by himself. Hence the enigma of the house left him captivated. He could not get it out of his head. He let his imagination run riot in helping him reveal the secret that the house held within it? Was it haunted? Why did nobody ever live there? Did a monster live inside it and was this his castle? Had the monster imprisoned someone and hid him or her from the world? He had heard stories of children being trapped inside big houses and bad things happening to them. Was this one of those houses?
He simply had to know. But how? He decided to think of something.
Sundays were match days. Radheya would join the locality boys in a game of cricket. It was usually a boisterous and rowdy match with arguments and jostling around. In the absence of an umpire, decision making was a group affair in which the audience strained their vocal cords too. Radheya never got into all that. He would stand aside waiting till the decision was done. Thankfully, things never turned too serious.
Haridas would also come to watch. Sundays were the only days he could stay at home. However, he could not stay long as he had to complete the weekly grocery and get things ready for the week ahead. Nevertheless, he sat among the spectators and would sometimes also join in the animated decision-making process.
Ravi was the best batsman in their area. He had a strong fist and could hit some great shots. That day Ravi was at the crease and Radheya was fielding in the long off position closer to the line marked as the boundary. It was a full toss ball and Ravi flexed his wrist to hit a sixer. The ball flew over Radheya’s outstretched hands right across the iron gates of the House to land on its green lawns with a thud.
“There goes another ball” said Shiva, the bowler, looking angrily at Ravi.
“Hey! Who asked you to throw a full-toss” said Ravi defiantly “It’s not my fault.”
“Really? Who are you? Sachin Tendulkar?” said Shiva furiously.
“I’ll go get it” said Radheya quickly, noticing he had finally got the opportunity he was waiting for.
“Get what?” asked the others surprised.
“The ball” said Radheya simply.
Everybody stared at him as if they had seen a ghost.
“Are you off your head?” said Shiva. “Nobody goes inside that house.”
“Why not?” asked Radheya curiously
“I don’t know” said Shiva shrugging “I have never seen anyone go in ever.”
“Well, we do have to get our ball, right?” said Radheya
“Yes but….Radheya…what if your father gets to know?”
“ He won’t if you don’t tell him” said Radheya winking at Shiva as he sped up the hill.
As he approached the gate he stopped. He could almost hear his heart beating inside him. His chest heaving up and down in quick and short movements. He could see the ball lying innocuously on the green lawn. Pursing his lips, Radheya scrambled up the tall iron gates and dropped softly on to the grounds. He picked up the ball and stood staring at the house. It was the first time he was seeing it from the front and it looked even more regal and beautiful. Its white walls with its arched balconies shone in the morning sunlight with an ethereal glow.
Slowly Radheya moved towards the house. Its front door was slightly ajar. He walked through them and found himself standing in a huge hall. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. The black and white checkered floor was covered with a coat of dust. A long-curved staircase led to the rooms above.
On the right to where he stood, Radheya noticed a huge door that probably led to another room. Knowing he was trespassing, he moved towards that room. As he peeked in, a strong smell of tobacoo hit his nostrils. He crinkled his nose and looked around. The room was dark. A yellow light glowed in a red lampshade that stood in one corner. As his eyes grew used to the dull glow of the light they widened in surprise as he took in the huge shelves full of books. There were books all around. It seemed as if the walls were built with books.
“Who are you?”
Radheya was still walking around the room looking at the shelves when he jumped at the sound of the gruff voice. He looked around to notice a man standing on a tall ladder looking at him with a stern look. A long pipe hung at one corner of his mouth
“I am Radheya”
“How did you come in?” asked the man shutting the book that he was holding in his hands with a loud snap making Radheya jump.
“Through the door. It was open” he said simply.
“HOW DARE YOU ENTER MY HOUSE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION” the man hollered at Radheya angrily climbing down the ladder and walking towards him menacingly.
Radheya stood looking at him unperturbed. The man was tall and thickset. He had bushy eyebrows that were now creased into a scowl, a short forehead most of which was covered by his hair, thick walrus moustaches covered his mouth that was set in a thin cold line as he glared at Radheya. However, the man’s eyes had a strange sadness that he had seen in his father’s eyes too. It made Radheya stand his ground despite the man’s anger.
“I came to collect my ball” he said unflinchingly.
“What Ball?” asked the man irritated.
Radheya took out the ball from his pocket. The man stared at it. His eyes shaped like small discs spewing fire at him.
“How did that come here?” he said looking at the ball with narrowed eyes.
“We were playing cricket and Ravi hit a six and the ball just flew over your walls and landed in your grounds.”
“Cricket? You call that cricket? Hah!” he said derisively.
“You have seen us play?” asked Radheya.
“I have heard you would be a better way to put it” he said sneeringly “the hullaballoo you create every Sunday is enough to bring your so called ‘cricket’ to everyone’s notice.”
“You peek at us!” asked Radheya with his eyes widened. “Our teacher says watching anyone without their permission is bad manners.”
“What?” the man looked as if he would burst out in fury “HOW DARE YOU? Get out of here before I call the police!” he said seething with anger.
Radheya looked at him for some time and then turned to leave.
“Next time you look, just pull the blinds open, you will get a better view” he said before he slipped out of the door and ran down the driveway and out of the gates.
“Thank God!” said Shiva as he came up with the others behind him. “We were coming to look for you. What happened?” he asked
“I got the ball” said Radheya throwing the ball towards them.
“Did anyone see you?” asked Shiva coming close to speak in a low whisper.
Radheya did not want to tell him that he did meet someone. He casually shook his head and clicked his tongue.
“Good! Come on let’s continue with the game” said Shiva as he started running down the hill signalling for the others to follow.
Radheya looked back towards the house. He thought he saw a slight movement in the blinds in one of the rooms on the lower floor. He thought it was the same room he had been in. Or was it? He smiled before walking down the hill towards his friends knowing that he will be back soon again and he would find out then.
Ranjit Singh watched the boy walk down the hill. There was a strange nonchalance in his attitude. It had irked him at first. However, as he got back to his books, he could not get the brief meeting out of his mind. Then he remembered what the boy had said before leaving and a queer sensation bubbled within him. Soon he found himself smiling which turned into a chuckle. Ranjit Singh sighed as he sunk into his plush arm-chair. It felt good to laugh. When was the last time he had done that? Maybe when the news of Vignesh being selected for the College cricket team had reached him. He had called himself to give him the good news. He had also said he would be home for a few days before his exams would begin.
Young, spirited and intelligent, Vignesh, was the apple of his eye. Ranjit Singh had been his first coach and had trained him in the sport since he was four years old. Vignesh had a natural flair for the sport. But it was Ranjit Singh’s trained hand which molded that talent into a skill. He taught him the nuances of the sport and guided him in every way.
Vignesh had always wanted to be a fast bowler but it was Ranjit Singh who had convinced Vignesh to be a wicket keeper. He knew that Vignesh’s agility and flexibility would help him shine as a wicketkeeper. Moreover, his spirit could enliven any situation which is what was also a critical role of a wicketkeeper. Vignesh had agreed. However, little did Ranjit Singh know that he was going to repent that decision for the rest of his life.
The day Vignesh was supposed to come home, Ranjit Singh had decided to surprise him with a grand welcome. That was the last time the house had been decked up. It was after all the Prince’s homecoming and it had got to be a grand affair. The House looked regal in the fairy lights and the orchids that were specially ordered from different parts of the world. Invitations were sent out to guests. Ranjit Singh himself had stood waiting to welcome his only grandson in his most expensive Sherwani.
He was still smiling when the black limousine drew up before him. He did not know the short and portly man who stepped out of it. He had walked up to where Ranjit Singh was standing and pressed his hands supportively. There was something in that gesture that wiped off his smile. He had stared at him as they laid down the black coffin before him. Within it, wearing the navy blue and gold embroidered Sherwani he had sent for him and looking as suave and handsome as always, lay his 26 year-old grandson, Vignesh Divijay Singh.
Ranjit Singh had looked up at them with an uncomprehending look. Nothing they said after that made any sense to him.
It was a practice match . The last batsman was on the crease. A googly from the spin bowler had hit the stumps. The dislodged bails had struck Vignesh on his left eye. The doctor informed him with a empathetic look that professional cricket would have to be a forgotten dream. Young, ambitious Vignesh had not been able to bear the ignominy of being made to stand in the spectator stand all his life.
The next day the nurse had found him hanging from the fan in the hospital room. The note he left for his grandfather had just two words “Forgive me.”
5 years had gone by and yet Ranjit Singh had not been able to forgive himself. He had covered the house in a shroud of darkness. No lights, no music and no more visitors were allowed within the premises. He had lived alone drowning himself in his sorrow. Until today a small hand clasping a muddied rubber ball had started the story all over again.
Ranjit Singh sighed as he got up from his chair to switch off the light. He pulled the blinds back and blinked at the light that shone on his eyes. No matter how much he berated himself for listening to the little boy, in his heart he hoped he would be back.
“See, I told you the view is better when the blinds are drawn back”
Ranjit Singh spun around at the spirited voice. He noticed the boy standing with his hands in his pocket looking at him with a straight face.
“You are back!” he said hoping his voice did not reveal the pleasure he felt at seeing him again.
Radheya noticed the man’s voice had lost some of its gruffness. The daylight filling the room helped him to see the man more closely. He looked older than he had imagined him to be. There were lines all over his face and his hair was scraggly and unkempt. However, his eyes had the same sadness he had noticed last time.
“Well, I thought you might like it if I came back” said Radheya smiling.
“You are a cheeky one I must say” said Ranjit Singh turning around to look out of the window.
“Yes. My father says so too” said Radheya looking around at the room. It was quite a large room and had portraits on the walls which were not lined with books. They were all hand drawn ones and probably belonged to the family members. His eyes stopped at the portrait of a handsome man who looked too young to be hung up on a memory wall such as this.
“Who is he?” he asked curiously.
Ranjit Singh looked around to see Radheya looking at Vignesh’s portrait. He turned back to continue looking out of the window.
“What’s up with your friends today? Nobody seems to be playing?” he asked ignoring Radheya’s question while looking at him from the corner of his eyes.
“Oh yes! Ravi is down with fever. He is our only batsman so without him there is no game” said Radheya clicking his tongue
“Hah Batsman! that boy needs to be taught how to hold a bat first” said Ranjt Singh scowling.
“How do you know?” asked Radheya looking at him surprised.
“Have you seen how he grips the bat? It’s all wrong. All he has is power. He just somehow manages to connect and you all go ga-ga over that” said Ranjit Singh “Cricket is not just a power game. It needs technique and skill. What you play is not cricket.”
“Teach us then” said Radheya
“What?” said Ranjit Singh stunned.
“Yes, teach us if you think we cannot play the game right.” said Radheya innocently.
“Why do you think I would want to do that?” said Ranjt Singh shaking his head in disbelief. He could not imagine the audacity of this boy asking him to coach a bunch of hooligans.
“Because of two reasons” said Radheya smiling up at him innocently “One, because you love the game and cannot bear to see people destroying it.”
“And the second?” asked Ranjit Singh
“We have a match next month and we could do with some training” he said looking serious.
Ranjit Singh stared at Radheya too stunned to even answer.
“Well?” asked Radheya
“Well what?” asked Ranjit Singh. After the initial shock of Radheya’s proposal began to settle down, a faint sense of elation was beginning to creep into his heart.
“Will you be our coach or not?” asked Radheya looking at him closely.
“Only if you ask your friends to behave themselves. I will not allow hooliganism in my lawns. No littering and no noisy arguments. These are the two things I will NOT allow in my house” he growled.
“Thank you” said Radheya quietly. “I better be going then. Need to inform the others too”
“What’s your name?” Ranjit Singh asked gruffly
“Radheya. What’s yours?” said Radheya.
Ranjit Singh widened his eyes at him in surprise.
“Don’t bother. I will call you “Kothi Kaka”. Suits you” he said grinning impishly and disappeared before Ranjit Singh could respond.
The training progressed well enough . Radheya had collected around 8-9 boys for his team. They were all of various sizes and heights but they all had one thing in common. They were ready to be trained. Ranjit Singh had taken out his box where he kept his precious cricket balls. It had been five years since he had opened the box. He polished off the mold and made them shine as before. He gripped it one hand feeling the coarseness of the stich on his fingers. Even today it gave him the same thrill as it did on the first day when he had laid his hands on them all those years ago. He was born for the sport and he knew it.
So was Vignesh!
The thought suddenly clouded the momentary feeling of elation. He was surprised to find that for the first time since Vignesh had left him, he had not thought of him. Maybe because, he was with him. Cricket was as much part of his life as it was Vignesh’s. The two breathed the sport with the same energy. The intensity of their love for the game was same for both of them. So being with Cricke, in a way, brought Vignesh back in to his life again. That made him feel happy.
The boys were eager and happy to learn. They picked up the nuances well and made steady progress. Ranjit Singh was happy to realise he had not lost his touch. Though he could not run around as he could earlier, but his sense of the game was as sharp as before.
Radheya was his biggest surprise. The boy was a ball of energy. Running, jumping, throwing, and catching all with equal dexterity and spirit.
The day of the match arrived. The team selection was in progress. Ranjit Singh helped them identify their roles when Radheya proclaimed aloud,
“I want to be the keeper”
“NO!”
It came out almost spontaneously before Ranjit Singh could stop himself. Everybody including Radheya turned to look at him in surprise.
“Why not?” he asked defiantly.
“Because you are too young” said Ranjit Singh looking the other way.
Radheya looked at him in shock.
“You think we have the luxury to decide based on age now? Who is the most sprightly in this group tell me” he said angrily.
“He is right Sir” said Shiva “Radheya is our best choice for wicketkeeper”
Ranjit Singh knew they were right. He had known it from the first day at practice that Radheya was cut out for the role. So was somebody else. The voice at the back of his mind reminded him.
Ranjit Singh sighed as he got up. “I …I…am not feeling too well today. You all decide the rest of the roles. Have a good match” he said as he looked at Radheya silently before moving inside the house.
Everybody looked at each other not sure what had happened.
“I am going to be the keeper and nobody is going to stop me” said Radheya fuming with defiance.
Ranjit Singh could feel his hands get clammy as he waited for news of their match. His lips felt dry as he moved his tongue over them. He needed a drink badly. He got up to fix himself a scotch and swallowed it in a single gulp. It helped momentarily to calm him down.
In a few minutes, he could feel the sensation returning.
“The match must have been over by now” he thought looking at the clock. “What is taking them so long?”
As if in answer to his thoughts, a shrill whistle sounded in the distance. Ranjit Singh gripped the arms of his chair as the shouts and cheers came closer. He stood up and moved towards the door. He was standing in the portico when he saw him riding on the shoulders of his team as they moved towards him with the same buoyant mirth etched on his face. Like always he was looking towards him with those same smiling eyes.
Ranjit Singh stretched out his arms and hugged the boy in a firm grip. He looked up towards the sky and whispered into the clouds the words he had been waiting to utter since that fateful day –
“Welcome back my boy!”
Photo by Nix Boulton on Unsplash
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