123 Tomorrows: It's Not a Story, It's a Puzzle by Vaibhav Thakur

Author:Vaibhav Thakur [Thakur, Vaibhav]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-09T04:30:00+00:00

Tomorrow #118

Time: 12:30 PM (30 minutes to the blast)

Location: Firozshah Kotla Cricket Stadium, New Delhi

At gate no. 1, I produced my ticket that I had managed to nick from an unsuspecting and probably drunk spectator. When I entered the stadium, all my senses were overwhelmed with the sheer scale of humanity. ‘In India,’ it was said, ‘cricket is not a sport, it’s a religion.’ Today I was a witness to that fact. Every inch of the stadium exuded contagious energy. Forty-five thousand super-charged fans hollered at the top of their lungs and hundreds of tri-coloured Indian flags waved above the sea of painted faces and coloured wigs.

The stadium was a mini-city in itself. Huge stands, interrupted by glass-walled media boxes, surrounded the lush green ground in the middle, and four towering flood-lights stood like alert sentries holding the skies. On the opposite sides of the oval shaped ground, big letters depicted ‘Viru 319’ and ‘Viru 309’ ends, marking for the two record-breaking innings by the Indian legend, Virendra Sehwag executed at the very same stadium.

Two giant electronic screens came to life announcing that India needed to make 361 runs in 50 overs to win the match. The Indian innings would be commencing soon. I didn’t have much time. I desperately searched for any clues of the terrorist. Someone amongst those thousands of the faces was planning to detonate the deadliest bomb in the history of mankind. But who? And how could he be carrying such a large bomb inside the stadium? My Geiger counter’s reading was pointing to the ground.

The two umpires appeared on the ground and adjusted the stumps and bails. The game was about to begin. 20 minutes to the blast.

I climbed down the stairwell in the stands and the reading on the Geiger counter jumped up. I needed to get closer to the ground. I waded my way through the thick crowd and stood behind the corporate billboards surrounding the boundary of the stadium. 15 minutes to the blast.

Soon, Indian batsmen, Kohli and Varshney made their way to the pitch followed by the entire Pakistani team. The batsmen took their places at the wickets and the Pakistani players spread themselves around the field. I frantically looked around for anything out of element. Nothing. 10 minutes to go.

Pakistani bowler ran down from the edge of the boundary to bowl the first ball of the match as the crowd applauded towards a crescendo. Kohli hooked the ball and it disappeared into the crowd for a mammoth six. Entire stadium erupted in celebration. 5 minutes to the blast. My heart pounded against my rib-cage. Why don’t I see anything?

I prepared myself for the reset. Wait! Kohli is pointing his bat at something. Something is amiss.

A drinks cart, towing a closed trolley, drove onto the ground. The wheels of the trolley sank deep in the ground seemingly carrying something heavy. That’s it!

I jumped over the hoardings and ran towards the drinks cart. Couple of policemen began to chase me, but I was focused on getting to the terrorist.

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