`Arre, tumhara naam Varadarajan hai ki nahin; mai khali number confirm karne ke liye phone kar rahaa hun' said an oily voice, with a hint of impatience because, as usual, I was trying to dance around the periphery
with the call from an unknown number, prompting the caller to repeat his query for the third time. By now, I was not only irritated with the intrusion but was galled by the rudeness of the individual. I disconnected
without answering the question and started to read through the article on the betting scandal haunting the Pakistan Cricket team.
I had just returned after the Sunday cricket game inside Adarsh Vista, the community in which I live now -capped by a last ball win I had personally handed over to the opponents. I had the ball in my hand and had coolly run 5 yards towards the wicket and was close enough to crash the ball into the stumps with the batsman nowhere in sight; and at the last moment, had tossed the ball to the beckoning wicket keeper, who seemed keen to receive the ball and do the needful. But, lo and behold, just as the ball left my hand, the guy stood up and let it float away. I felt like a fool because, between us, we fluffed a sitter, thereby converting a certain 'tie' into a frustrating loss for our team. Some seven pairs of eyes, to which my team-mates were attached, balefully glared at me, as if my stupidity had resulted in the first ever defeat for them. Their angst, as that of all the unseen spectators, was perfectly justified. I was responsible for the loss and was immersed in a healthy dose of self-pity, when the above call came. I am sure the readers can comprehend my reaction, even though the caller probably was livid!
Two hours later, another man called; this voice was suave and pretty cultured and the caller desired conversation with me after confirming that I was who I was supposed to be. But the opening gambit from his side had the potential to derail the discussion right-away --- he offered a retainer for me to be on his roll. I did not realise that my consultancy work had acquired such a global reputation that strangers would offer deals over phone. So, I balked at this and the caller smartly figured out I was confused. He offered to elaborate. He said the retainer was for aiding a start-up betting company in Bangalore, especially for subtle collaboration during future cricket games. He wanted to leverage my standing in the community and my proven ability to screw-up easy opportunities, as evidenced during that morning's game, to spread the tentacles of his start-up betting company. He said he heard from his head-hunter about me after the last-ball bungling of mine that day and made an immediate, board-level decision that I was immensely qualified to be on his roll. He even offered to rename me ---choices were `Walajah Raja' (just to let me retain a semblance of dignity and a bit of my name)!! Or something totally off the wall his Board would decide. Citizenship of Pakistan could be organized and I could be settled in pretty quickly, once I graduated from Sunday Vista cricket (no, not in cricket skills; he hinted there was no hope of that at all; but in terms of improvement as a furtive collaborator) to higher planes within the organization. I was told that being a wicket keeper, I had the incredible opportunity to be a direct understudy with Kamran Akmal and climb up the rankings in their domain, if I fulfilled my promise as a bungler. I was even told that I had the good fortune of hobnobbing with some of the Pakistani greats - past and contemporary - in the entire gamut of activities from spot-fixing to throwing matches, so that I picked up the intricacies of the trade quickly.
Disoriented by this direct assault without any preamble, I was stuttering wildly just as Wodehouse made Lord Emsworth stutter whenever the latter was confronted with a perilous situation involving his favourite pig, the Empress. That, this man decided was the result of dilemma on my part and went on a `convincing drive', to apply further pressure by stating that I would not be alone in this recruitment drive. A captain from that Sunday's game, who completely 'forgot' the presence of an ace-bowler in his team till the last over and thereby contributed a good chunk of runs by over-bowling himself and that man who was pretending to be the wicket keeper to me during my last ball gaffe, were both on the list and were being approached as we spoke. This captain had the markings of being a good deputy to Salman Butt, he said. Actually he had a good point. He challenged me to explain why I, being a regular wicket keeper was fielding at square leg and the `pretender' wicket-keeper, who was from the batting side, managed to displace me at the crucial time!! Obviously I had no explanation. And he chuckled with the satisfaction of a man who has done a good day's work and said that his talent-spotter had done a great job of rounding us up for his company.
It did'nt look like those guys would take a `no' for an answer. I am scurrying around to find out what the others are doing, so that our collective response is appropriate!!
PS: Just heard on Radio Pakistan - `Now, on to Sports News. First, we will look at all the results of tomorrow's cricket matches.........' (I borrowed that from some other source).
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