Uncle

I visit my maushi’s (mother’s sister) place often. There is a lot of empty space in front her house. Small children play there during the evening. Whenever I visit her bunglow, I stand in the balcony watching those young Tendulkars and Brett Lees playing with so much passion. When my mother is busy talking with my maushi about the love affair of my some cousin with a Gujarati girl or how to preserve Methi ki sabji for three days (if I would have liked it, wouldn’t I finish it in a day?), I prefer to stand in the balcony and recollect my childhood days.

The other day I was standing in the balcony and about 10 children were playing cricket. All between ages 7-10. There was some controversy about a runout between them, and I volunteered from the balcony to give the decision. Something happened again. And they again asked me whether it is out or not. I again volunteered and gave the decision. And then one cute boy asked me (by signs) to come to the field and be the field umpire. I was too happy and went ahead. I stood at the non-striker’s end and one smart boy came to me and said,
“Uncle, Uncle you see that fencing over there? It’s the boundary line”
This statement may seem to be very simple, but the first two words struck me like cannonball. I got so irritated that surpassed my previous highest irritation while watching the movie Veer-Zaara. Uncle? Do I look like uncle? I have hardly crossed 23. A ten year old boy is calling me an uncle? I could have accepted any malediction in replacement for that word. But I had no other option. I had to listen to that child. And after that cannonball, I experienced many bullets.
“Uncle, hows that? Out … out .. uncle out … uncle .. uncle please out … uncle… “
I gave him out. I could not tolerate the word uncle any more. I looked towards the bunglow hoping that my mother would come and bail me out from these little devils. But firing continued.
“Uncle, its not six, it’s a four … I saw the ball… uncle its four”.
“Uncle noooo …It’s a six… uncle six ”.
“Uncle, right arm round”. I was thinking of making his right arm round.

If these small Rajwardhan Rathods were not sufficient to fire at me, a cute little Anjali Bhagwat came to me and shot an arrow at me “Kaka kaka, kiti wajle?” (Uncle, what’s the time?). I told her patiently, “Kaka nahi kahi, mala Tushar dada mhan. Tarach kiti wajle te saangin” (Don’t call me uncle, call me elder brother. Only then I will tell you the time).
“Jaoode” (Forget it) and away she went!

I left the battle field totally wounded. Then I got to know, why US could not win wars in Vietnam and Afghanistan”.

I never imagined that this small thing would occupy my mind so much. I went home and realized that I was breathing as fast as a dog after climbing just 30 steps. While surfing through TV channels, I realized that I stopped at News channel more often than MTV or Channel V. The next morning I realized that I have started reading the newspaper from front page (politics, current affairs), rather than last page (sports news). While watching the cricket match, I don’t get that much excited when Pathan takes a wicket compared to what I used to get when Srinath or Kapil used to take wickets. I don’t jump out of the sofa nowadays when India wins the match. I no longer call my friends to sit and watch a football WC match together at my house. Though I meet friends at our katta (place where friends meet), we discuss more about our and someone else’s salaries than tell each other some good joke recently heard. I am gaining weight because I am not getting enough time to play during the day. I prefer treadmill exercise more than actual running. I don’t get very furious at anybody, because I know that it disturbs mental balance. I prefer driving to trekking.

All these thoughts filled my mind. I became very conscious. Why the heck have I changed so much? And that too, in just two years of passing out from college? My parents like my new behavior. They say that I have matured now. I have become sober. I don’t express extreme opinions what I used to present during my college debate contests. Though I am not uncle per se, I have all the qualities of an uncle. I did not play with the children, was just within them. I got the reason why I could not enjoy the game as much as they did.

How much has this change benefited me? Very much, everybody else will definitely say. But I would wish to disagree. I want to shout at the sight of six by Tendulkar and Sehwag. I want to believe that if I sit on this lucky chair, Narain Karthikeyan will earn some points. I want to quarrel with my mother over half cooked vegetables. I don’t want to hum a song in bathroom, I want to sing it loudly. I want to tell a joke rather than send any humorous sms. I want to sing “The Animal Song” of Savage Garden loud and clear. I want to be ME, not dwarfed version of ME.