CONTEST: "The Keyword of the Week- PLAYGROUND"

It was during the days when I was transferred to Mumbai and the eleventh birthday of my son, who was in sixth grade. I asked him, "What do you want for your birthday?"

He immediately said, "Papa, I want a new cricket bat and a ball."

"Okay, fine, I will take you to the market tomorrow evening," I promised.
an
This was my first posting in Mumbai. I didn't know much about shops and markets. I inquired with my childhood friend Nanda, who was my coworker, about the sports goods shops.

He said, "There is this shop. As soon as you enter the market from the playground side of your house, this shop is in the second lane on the right side. Everything for children is available there."

Then he paused for a while and said, “You remember Ghosh? When we were in high school, we did not miss any of his football matches.”

I was trying to remember this Ghosh guy, and he again said, "You used to play football. Didn't you say that one day I will become the top player in the Indian team like Ghosh, remember?"

I remembered everything. Even today, I cannot separate football and Ghosh from my thoughts.

When Ghosh, a broad, heavily built player of average height, used to run after the ball while playing in a left-out position, a wave of noise would arise in the entire audience. There was enthusiasm and hope in everyone that a goal was sure.

When he would take the football and dodge the players on the other side and pass through them like an arrow, I would get goosebumps. Whenever he would score a goal, not only me but everyone else would start shouting loudly, and then there would be continuous noise and applause. I used to play in the left position in school, and I dreamed that when I grew up, I would become a football player like Ghosh.

ᴵᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵐᶦⁿᵉ

Then, by the time I was in 11th grade, I had to give up football due to my studies. I was trying for an engineering seat, and I got it. I also played football in engineering college, but that addiction soon faded. Now I don't know how many years have passed since I even kicked a football.

"Hey, do you remember Ghosh?

I said, "Ghosh is not a person to be forgotten." By giving this answer, my mind went back to school days, and I felt a pleasant kick in my mind.

The next day, I entered the street opposite the playground with my child and was looking for Ghosh's shop. This is the street that Nanda had told me, thinking that I had probably come to the wrong street. When I reached the middle of the street, my eyes fell on two deflated footballs and a bat hanging outside a shop.

Those dirty footballs and small bats were hanging there as if they had no connection with that shop. Or as if someone had hung them years ago and then forgotten about them.

This cannot be Ghosh's shop, thinking this, I kept moving ahead. After reaching the shop, I took a quick look once again. Outside, on an old, dirty board, battered by seasons and years, was a signboard with the pale red words, "Ghosh Sports Store."

My mind was filled with a strange feeling.

"Papa, let's go somewhere else. How dirty is it here?" My son was holding my arm and shaking me.

I looked toward the shop once again. Toffees, cheap chocolates, chewing gum, etc. were kept in plastic jars on a dirty, plywood counter just in front of the shop.

When I looked inside, I saw someone reading a newspaper behind the counter.

“Let us check here; otherwise, we will go to some other shop.” Saying this, I stepped up the stairs of the shop. The shopkeeper left the newspaper and stood up. He made eye contact with me and said, "Come on, sir, what do you need?"

"Bat and ball." My son said,.

"I'll show you now. Nowadays, everyone is fond of cricket." Saying this, he went to the back part of the shop, where, in one corner, several bats were kept against the wall. The shopkeeper was wearing old but clean clothes. He had slippers on his feet.

It looked as if he had not shaved for a few days. I was thinking in my mind, "Is this Ghosh? No, it cannot be. Even time cannot change a man that much!"

I used to follow him around after he played matches and saw him many times from very close. But it's been 24–25 years since I saw him. He looked the same height and build, maybe he was his brother. I kept thinking.

“Take these,” he said, placing three bats on the counter. My son started looking at each bat.

I asked, "Excuse me, aren't you the footballer Ghosh?"

"I am Ghosh."

I didn't feel any shock. Now I was ready for this answer. I said, "Actually, you don't know me, but during my school days, you were our senior. I used to watch every match you played. I can never forget the match you played against Delhi in 2000."

Ghosh's face started glowing. "I scored three goals in that match, all three from the field in the first half. We were two goals behind. What a match it was." He was smiling while saying this.

“You sit, there is a stool behind you.”

He pointed toward the stool. I saw that my son himself had gone to the back corner and chosen the bat in the bat section.

"Uncle, give me a notebook and two pencils." A child was climbing the shop and asking Ghosh to give him these items.

I saw that on the shelf behind the counter, there were copies, pencils, and cheap ball pens kept in a jar. The child gave him money. Ghosh handed him the items and asked, "Do you want anything else?"

"Give chocolates and toffees with the remaining money."

"Good." Saying this, Ghosh took out toffees from a jar, placed them on the counter, and then started counting.

Then Ghosh turned towards me, and we made eye contact. He was in a bit of a tizzy when he said, "I can't run my house just by selling sports equipment on this street. What should I do? I have to keep all these things to meet the expenses of the house."

I was feeling very strange. This was the same Ghosh with whom so many people wanted to shake hands. Today, he was counting toffees worth a few pennies with the same hands.

Now I reached the back of the shop, where my son was inspecting the bats, and started helping him. Then we selected a bat and went to the counter.

He asked my son, "Son, do you want the ball made of leather or cork?"

I replied, "Leather balls will be fine. Give us a set of wickets also."

My son said, "I'll take the wicketkeeper's gloves too."

"Okay, apart from this, you can also give batting gloves and leg pads.

My son became happy and said, “That is okay, Papa.”

“Our children are so fond of cricket, they are losing interest in football.” Saying this, Gosh went back to collect the things.

By now, his image in my mind had gone down. Now I was looking at him as a player of yesteryear who was now a small shopkeeper. He was dressed in old clothes and wearing bathroom slippers, selling notebooks and small household items besides sports goods.

Ghosh was packing our items. Meanwhile, I asked, "I had heard that you have joined a state club team."

"Yes, I played club football for two years and also served a private company. I used to play on the company's team and do nothing else. Then, like always, the new boys, with new enthusiasm, pushed the old players out. Now the game was gone, the job was gone, the money was gone, the fame was gone, and the playground was also gone."

He packed my luggage and then said, "Just wait, I have just come." Saying this, he went inside somewhere else. When he came out, he had a football in his hand. He filled it with air and then started examining it by tossing it on the floor with his hand.

Then he threw the football up and caught it and held it in his hand, then laughed and pointed at my son, "It's perfect for this young man. “This football is a gift from me."

I said, "Please add it to my bill."

"I said, "This is from me. I will take full payment for the rest of the goods."

Ghosh did not look at me, but in between he kept saying, "Nowadays football is a big game, sir. If the player is good, then he has everything, money, respect, fame, and a name."

While saying this, he became silent for a while. Then he said, "Don't look at me. Our time was different. There was no money in the game at that time. We are the ones whom time and circumstances brought here with a kick in the bum. Here is your bill.”

While giving him the money, I casually asked him, "You sit alone at the shop; what is your son doing?"

A glow appeared on his face, "You must have heard Randy's name in football. He plays for Goa Sporting Club. He is my son. All the clubs are trying to attract him. I am sure that he will be in the Indian team next year. A coach has taken him to Germany for six months. He only went last month. Like me, he also plays in the left-out position in the forward line."

My son had picked up his packs of cricketing gear. After paying, I picked up the football and said goodbye to him.

Both our eyes were looking into each other. Perhaps both of us were smiling at that very moment. I moved my right hand toward him. He extended his strong but soft hand and said warmly, "Okay, goodbye!"

Then he looked at my son and said, "Make full use of this playground, young man. The whole world is yours."

Beneficiary @hive-107855