KA’s debt

KA, as she was now known, walked around the village, a smile curving the corner of her lips. Her team and she had arrived early deliberately, so that she could visit some of her favourite places from childhood.

No changes

She visited the banyan tree where the elders would sit in the evening, exchanging juicy gossip. It was deserted now, thanks to the blazing sun. She walked past the small post office. Thirteen years was a long time. So much had changed, yet everything was the same. Nari Kaka was still seated at the window, his glasses slipping down his nose. His hair had turned grey, and a few teeth were missing. Otherwise, he looked the same. A rush of happiness filled her as memories of all the stamps he had given her came to mind. She walked towards him and placed a box of milk pedas, his favourite sweets. He pushed his glasses up his nose and squinted at her. He blinked, unable to place her.

As people approached the post office, KA grabbed the opportunity to slip away. She walked towards the mango tree, eyeing the plump mangoes she had gorged on every summer. She picked up a stone and, after ensuring there was no one under the tree or around it, aimed for a mango. It fell to the ground. Her staff, though surprised, rushed towards the mango, washed it, and handed it to her. KA tucked it inside her handbag to eat later at the government guest house.

She strolled towards the small pond. It was the same, though the water had reduced. Lifting the papers from her bag, she stared at them. She had made the right decision.

Soon it was time for International Women’s Day celebrations at the government school, for which she had been invited. Along with her team, she moved towards the venue. A small crowd had already gathered on the premises. As she walked to the makeshift podium, the principal rushed to greet her. KA knew he wouldn’t recognise her. She had changed a lot.

Illustration: Sonal Goyal

“We welcome our Chief Guest, KA, captain of the Indian Women’s Cricket Team.” The crowd began clapping, as the principal introduced her. KA stood on the podium waiting for the applause to die down. Fifteen years ago, on this same day, another athlete — the Chief Guest that year — had inspired her to pursue cricket.

Enter Kaveriamma

“Namaste,” KA said. “Success is never a solitary endeavour. It takes a village to nurture a successful person. Fifteen years back, a cricketer who was the Chief Guest of the Women’s Day Celebrations inspired a young girl named Kaveriamma, the daughter of Tulsiamma. A naughty child, the fatherless girl was looked after by the entire village. The women mothered her, and all the girls and boys treated her like a sibling. The men helped the young girl practice her cricket skills. They bowled, batted, fielded, and even ran around the village with her to make her practise for two years.”

The crowd gasped, wondering how she knew so much about one of the village’s former residents.

“Everyone in the village contributed money to buy Kaveriamma cricket gear. They brought food from their house so that the girl’s nutritional needs were met.”

“After Kaveriamma left the village 13 years ago, we lost touch with her. No one knows where she is now,” Nari Kaka said.

“How do you know so much about our Kaveriamma?” asked a girl sitting in the front row.

KA smiled. She liked “our Kaveriamma.”

All for cricket

“Like Kaveriamma, you all can also play cricket. The only difference will be that now there will be a cricket academy in this village,” KA said.

The crowd looked surprised.

Illustration: Sonal Goyal

“Where is the place for the cricket academy?” Nari Kaka asked.

“Kaveriamma’s old house will be turned into the academy,” KA said.

“That house has been in ruins from a long time?” said an old woman.

“It is time then that it becomes a cricket academy,” KA said.

“But who will train us?” the same girl asked.

“Your Kaveriamma,” KA smiled.

The children in the front row frowned.

“No one knows where Kaveriamma is now,” Nari kaka said.

“I also want to become the captain of the Indian Women’s Cricket team like you and win the World Cup.” A girl stood up.

“If Kaveriamma can play, so can you all.”

“What connection does Kaveriamma have with all this?” Nari Kaka asked.

“Because Kaveriamma has a debt to pay.” Tears welled up in her eyes. The crowd watched as she wiped them.

“Nari Kaka and Annila Amma, can you please come on to the stage,” KA said.

Nari Kaka limped towards the stage, followed by his wife.

KA handed Nari Kaka an album. As the old man opened the album, he stared at her in wonder.

“KA is our Kaveriamma,” he said, finally connecting the dots.

The crowd broke into a thunderous applause.

“Yes, your Kaveriamma is now KA. I have never forgotten how Annila Amma sold her silver coin to pay for my cricket bat,” she said, touching their feet.

Handing them the papers for the Cricket Academy, she asked them to break the coconut.

This International Women’s Day, the work on the academy would start. She owed it to the village that had nurtured her dreams.