Watching the game

Ashwin Goyal

Oct 27, 2023 — 1 min read

“Eye on the ball,” I remind myself. My living room transforms into the pitch, and I can smell the grass, feel the sun. I’m in my lucky spot, imaginary bat in hand, as the pacer begins his run-up.

"Footwork’s the key," I coach myself, the bowler's every step matching the beat of my heart. I can hear the distant cheers, my shadow cast long against the flicker of the TV.

As the bowler’s arm comes over, time stretches. “And… now,” I whisper fiercely, pivoting on the spot. My arms cut through the air, I swing with all my might—“thwack!”

There’s a split second of silence, a breath held in a million chests. And it’s broken by the crackling voice of the commentator, "It's high, it’s far... it's a six!"

The stadium erupts. The uproar from the crowd engulfs me in my fortress of solitude. Slumping back in my chair, I can't help but grin, "Did it again, didn't I?"

Feeling safe

My ancestors heard a leaf move and ran for their lives, not knowing whether it was the wind or a lurking tiger. For them, safety was a clear-cut concept – escape danger, find shelter, survive. But now, it's different, more complicated, less about what’s out there and more

Trying to sleep

"Come on, sleep. Just...sleep,” I murmur to myself. Tensing every muscle, trying to relax. "Maybe flipping the pillow to the cool side will help?” I think, doing just that. "Am I thirsty?" I look for the water bottle and I curse, "Damn it, the