On Bowling a
Maiden Over
One cannot blame one's enemies in
office even though they should have looked at you as if the ass has spoken,
when you proclaimed in desperation the desire to bowl a maiden over during
working hours ............. on the eve of the Royal-Thomian cricket match .
You see, for those of us who fight
this sort of battle of the 'blues' on the streets of Fort, our task too is
in a way as sacred as that what was Halangoda's. Your very reputation
depends on it.
Actually what I am trying to say
is that when the first 'Royal-Thomian' since one left college and started
working is round the corner, one becomes conscious that tradition demands
that one should be seen at the match in the company of one of the despised
sex.
Otherwise they start saying all
sorts of things about you like you are supposed to be a heartless villain,
hard hearted brute incapable of melting a maidens heart, woman hater or even
coward (amongst other things).
So one is forced into the search
for that unfortunate thing. One may even have to stoop down to contemplating
on falling in love (for lies). That it seems is the surest way of ensuring
victory in these types of affairs.
But for convenience, its best just
to be yourself-the 'Thomian cricketer' you once were. What I mean is that
one makes it known that one was at S. Thomas' and you er, you have just
played cricket (at some times during one's college days) You just maintain
things in that way.
Invariably some unfortunate
creature bites the hook. You see girls are always saying that they must be
sure. So they ask (for it)
my, weren't you at S.T.C. ?
hmm .............. how do you know
?
I know ..............
where have you seen me
.................at the match ?
you played know ?
.................. I can 'faintly' remember.
hmmm, long years ago ..... how are
you going this time?
I don't know ..... (and the
conversation continues in the same vague fashion)
All this may even sound terribly
romantic. But that unfortunately is that cold-blooded manner by which the
whole thing is made to happen. And the next week one is seen diving into the
Visitors block tent just next to the Boys Tent (to see and be seen) with
'it' amidst 'What? How? When? Where? Who ?' looks of admiration from those
who had been in school with you.
However, this is actually only the
beginning of the 'bowling a maiden over.'
Usually all goes well at the early
stages of the game. College is still not poised for victory or defeat and
one's blood is not boiling either way.
So you bat on in the same cold
blooded manner. 'Yes' you tell her, you would like to be very frank with her
by telling her that though you still don't want to admit in no uncertain
terms that you are actually fond of her, you are certain that you hate the
other office girls. Now she is in a daze. Invariably she cuddles closer to
you.
You increase the run rate. You
tell her also that though you have not definitely decided to fall in love
with her (in a tone that it is 'coming soon'), you are certain you will
never fall in love with any of the other office girls. Now she is in a daze.
You just continue at a very steady
pace with a hectic six thrown once in a while, stopping of course at steady
intervals to take her leave only to 'quench your thirst.'
Now even your enemies roundabout
have started saying 'awou, awou, so and so plus so and so, and all that and
she loves it. So she scowls openly.
You also add a few boundaries. You
tell her that you are not worthy of her even though there is still a few
drops of blood left in you alcohol stream, etc,etc. Now it is actually her
head that is spinning.
Suddenly you realize that there is
a lot of excitement in the middle. College is either winning or losing. You
are sure of that. There are also rumours that many notorious pals have
already 'fallen' for the sake of the good old school.
You seem to hear the sound of
distant drums. She is desperately trying to make you realize that she
suspects that 'the fall of man' is close at hand. But you are still in a
state to retain her confidence.
Bowled. Another wicket has fallen.
You are now certain that College is either winning or losing, and even start
hurling uncomplimentary epithets at Royalists in Sinhalese.
And all at once you see a crowd,
with a host of blue, black and blue flags tossing their heads in a 'spiritly'
dance. You see in them the ghosts of those who once danced with you. You
take the plunge....noting with glee, her horror stricken face. The maiden is
bowled.
But 'what the hell' you tell
yourself, believing that when the great scorer comes to write 'against' you
name, he will justly write that you knew all the time that it was heading
for a draw.
Maspang Extracted from the 103rd
battle of the blues souvenir.
