My Coffee My Way and Eden Gardens

Did Tallboykarthik ever tell you that he is crazy about Cricket. Of course he is and is every other Indian. So this story is about every passionate Cricket Fan who loves the game dearly. The Cricket star representing the nation is a celebrity but so is a Cricket Fan who throngs the stadium, who sits around the television set chewing away at his nails, till the moment of truth arrives, either the match is lost or a victory is well in sight. In between those moments one never has a count of the innumerable cups of coffee that goes in, just to calm those nerves.

Well when Tallboykarthik was SmallBoyKarthik, he used to stay in Kolkata with his parents and sister. In those days Cricket was the only past time for the entire family. Come Winter, the glazed sunlight, chill in the air and an ideal season for a great game of Cricket at the Eden Gardens. I still remember that we would be present on all five days of a test match at the Eden Gardens. My mother who remains devoted to her worship of the game, would prepare all the food and not to forget the flask containing South Indian Filter Coffee, steaming hot even at Tea time in a quality Flask. This I recall would be the 80's

Here is the Story. Now Imagine a completely choc a bloc stadium, fully packed in their respective seats, crowds that can make anyone nervous, a very knowledgeable crowd though. We were in the historical Eden Gardens between India and Pakistan. I still remember the occasion. Kapil Dev was stranded on his 99th Test Wicket. I do not remember the Pakistani batsman facing him at the other end but the bhai at the other end was approaching his hundred. He was also either on 98 or 99. So it was quite a nervous moment and the match was approaching tea time.

For us South Indians there is no there beverage  better than a hot refreshing cup of Filter Coffee. My mother hurriedly got out the flask in which hot coffee had been carefully preserved. Each member got his glass. When it comes to Bengalis there can never be a more friendly person. Seated next to you, he might have seen you for the first time in a cricket match but by the end of the match he would have invariably become your blood brother.  My mother offered a hot cup of coffee to Dada, steaming hot mind it.

Kapil came in from the high court end, the ball either crashed into the stumps or was he adjudged leg before wicket. I never really remember. All I remember are two incidents that remain vividly captured in my mind, one of Kapil getting his wicket and the other involving coffee. In the excitement of Kapil getting his wicket, the dada sitting next to us raised his hands in triumph, out went the hot coffee on to the shining scalp of another dada seated in front of us.

The bald gentleman was in visible pain, writhing and howling in pain. For a ten year old it was a humorous scene to see the coffee flowing down his face and him shouting in pain. Apologies made from one dada to another, everything was quickly forgotten over the cup of coffee thanks to the Haryana Hurricane creating a record of sorts by capturing his 100th Test Wicket. From that day to this I can never forget this story of a cup of coffee, one which was in celebration of Kapil Dev's 100th Test Wicket.