The Sacred Grove by Daman Singh

Author:Daman Singh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-03-06T00:00:00+00:00

14

In my dream Soma was chucking bel leaves at me and I was fending her off with a trishul. That was why I woke up late. Usually Ma came to check on me at seven, but that day she didn’t. She really was getting very unreliable. I threw myself into my uniform, stuffed my belt into a pocket and rushed to the dining room. Dham Singh hadn’t even bothered to put my milk on the table. Ma was pregnant, but he had no excuse. He was singing in the kitchen when I barged in. When he saw me, his shoulders started to shake. I asked him what was so funny. His shoulders were still shaking when he told me that school was closed. I didn’t believe him.

Ma was lying awake in bed, yawning. Papa wasn’t around. She told me to go back to sleep.

‘But we have a Hindi test today.’

‘Really? Did you study for it?’

Ma had such a low opinion of me. I didn’t need to study for Hindi. Nobody did.

She yawned again. ‘Go to sleep, dubloo. It’s a holiday. I haven’t slept all night. Papa didn’t even come home.’

‘Why?’

‘Some trouble in town.’

‘But why is it a holiday?’

Ma rolled over slowly, like a giant seal.

Apparently there was curfew. This had happened in our last posting too. I dialled Rafiq’s number but his phone was switched off. Aunty said that Ravi was sleeping. Ganesh had gone to his cousin’s house. Sidharth was studying for the exams. What a silly thing to do. Who studied in March for exams in May? I didn’t phone Jain because he was useless on his own.

My Kookaburra bat was still in its plastic cover. I had never used it. Of course, I had told all my friends about it, but I didn’t risk taking it to school. At home, all of us batted with my bat. After all, I could hardly expect Dham Singh, Ram Singh, Mohinderlal, Shambhu or Rafiq to bring their own. I didn’t want them to use my Kookaburra. Now that I was alone, it was safe to take it to the garden. I folded the cover carefully and put it under my bed. The blade was so beautiful, so smooth. Outside it was sunny but I could practise my shots in the shade. The morning dew had evaporated. I inspected the pitch. It was quite dry. That wouldn’t help the bowlers at all.

Ishant Sharma gave me a short-pitched delivery. Shifting my weight on to the back foot, I hooked it to backward square leg. The Kookaburra was so light that it took no effort at all to swing it at shoulder level. Yuvraj jumped three feet in the air, but the ball slipped from his fingers and got away for four. The next delivery was of a good length, but slower. It didn’t turn one bit. Going down on one knee, I swept it to the leg side where Saurav gave chase. His cap flew off and sailed to the ground. He managed to stop the ball near fine leg.

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