The TV screen in the bus showed Kamal Haasan riding on a bike, doing stupid stunts. Cheeka, Yash and Kirti, the latter with a bottle of beer in his hand, were lazing on their seats and watching.

"Hey, that's my favourite movie!" said Cheeka.

"Why else do you think they included it?" asked Roger and Kapil in unison. Well, Roger asked in English and Kapil in Hindi, but the essence was the same.

"Ek baat bolu kaptaan...tum pehla aadmi ho jo bole we will win, jeetna hai...wo press conference me journalist tha...daye daye goliya daale tumhare pe...tum ek ich baat bole...we will win, we will win..." said a tipsy Man bhai.

"The details are starting to worry me," said Jimmy. "Especially those regarding the bus journeys."

"What do you mean by that, Jimmy sir?" asked Saqib, leaning forward eagerly; quite clearly, he'd been listening in.

"Er—nothing of note," said Jimmy painfully.

"No, you have to tell me, sir—"

"Let him watch the movie in peace and bug him later, Saqib," said Hardy, logically.

Too logically.

"He's right, you know," Jimmy said, grinning.

Saqib subsided.

"Speech sab kuchh nahi aati mujhe!" said Kapil, beginning to panic.

"Suno sab loga...team meeting..." declared Man bhai.

"Saath seniors hai mere, what I can say?" asked a desperate Kapil.

Jimmy held back a laugh and slung an arm around Kaps.

"Gentlemen...kaptaan..."

The TV screen in the background went, 'I don't know what you say...I don't know what you say...'

"Tomorrow match...very important," began Kapil.

Kirti caught an imaginary ball in the background.

Kapil looked at Jimmy, who nodded encouragingly.

Then it was Kapil's turn to give Jim pa a hug.

"How'd they know this?" asked Kapil. "Did you tell them?"

"No," butted in Saqib eagerly. "Kabir sir built it on Jimmy sir's general niceness."

"He does deserve a pat on the back," said Kapil.

"Cheeka—"

Cheeka looked up quickly.

"—you hit."

Cheeka nodded seriously.

"Dilip—you strong," went on Kapil. "Kirti, you focus, your problem there."

Kirti, who'd been grinning wickedly, forced himself to look serious.

"Sandy, tu tagda hoke maar...Yash, you're a sher."

Yash looked on incomprehensively as Ravi choked on beer and Man bhai frowned.

The front row of the theatre was, of course, in splits—everyone except the captain, who was, however, making an active effort not to crack a grin.

"You have me to thank for this," Patla reminded everyone boastfully.

"Thank you," said Kirti in a nice voice that even 35 years after he'd stopped playing and being his roommate, made Madan suspicious.

"Like people says...taste the success once, tongue wants more."

This time even Jimmy smiled, though he actually tried to hide it. Kirti caught more balls in the background, Patla and Dilip watching him with grins on their face.

Maddi's smile was a mix of affection and sympathy as a poor, awkward Kapil demanded of their manager, "Bass?"

"Mummy wali baat...mumma wali baat...!"

"Baki...bass jeetke aana," said Kapil and hastened to sit back down with a , "Thank you."

"I think team meeting is over," said Man bhai.

Jimmy led the clapping in the bus and Cheeka bounded up, singing along with the TV, "I don't know what you say...I don't know what he says..."

Everyone joined in enthusiastically.

Cheeka's howls of laughter rose above the rest's as he fell on Kapil, strangling him.

"...I want to play the game of cricket...I want you in the name of cricket..."

***************

India vs West Indies, 9th June, 1983

"So the covers are coming off...and play should begin soon..." said Farokh Engineer in the commentary box.

"I don't think the Indians prayed enough..." said Johners, the other commentator. "...it stopped raining..."

Yash stood up, furious. "Kuchh bhi barbar karte ja rahe! Muh bandh dunga inka!"

If there'd been a contest of childish insults without actually using slangs, Yash would've won outright.

"Bolne de," said Kapil, uncannily calm. "Bolne de..."

"Kapsie," said Cheeka, standing up. "Mai maarega."

He must have meant hitting the WI bowlers, but on his way out, he hit the back of Yash's head and smashed one of the light bulbs, too.

Cheeka's clumsiness was unknown to no one who used to follow the team in 1983; Jiiva, who hadn't clumsy at all (or so he claimed) before doing the film, blamed Cheeka sir for his recent newfound clumsiness.

"Sunny...ye keeper...itna door kyu khada hai?" asked Cheeka, and turned to Dujon. "Hey man, why are you standing so far from the wicket, man?"

"You'll soon find out, man," said Dujon complacently. "You'll soon find out."

"Find out? What find out?"

"Good luck, Cheeka," broke in Sunny, both fond and exasperated.

"Good luck Sunny."

"1983 World Cup me Bharat ka pehla match...cricket jagat ki sabse takatwar team West Indies ke khilaf..." went the radio commentary for the benefit of the spectators back home.

"Play," said the umpire.

The second row of spectators, comprising the actors, all sat up a little straighter—the real challenge—the real and most difficult challenge they'd ever undertaken in their lives—copying the batting stance and bowling actions of living legends of the game—was about to undergo the test now.

Saqib was, unsurprisingly, the scaredest of all, and found himself thanking Jimmy sir mentally for not having performed well in the first match.

Tahir crossed his fingers and watched Sunny bhai as he dodged the first ball and didn't know what to make of the latter's tiny smile.

A smile could both mean something good—like nostalgia, like appreciation—or something bad like mockery, patronization.

Jiiva had no such thing to worry about.

As on-screen Srikkanth missed the first ball, Cheeka sir turned back, roaring with laughter, to wring his hands, saying, "Hey, you looked like you were actually facing Roberts out there. Perfection!"

A bemused Jiiva shook his hand back, feeling a little bit of the pressure releasing inside him.

Saqib felt so jealous he wanted to shove Jatin's popcorn into Jiiv's face.

India lost the first three wickets of Sunny, Cheeka and Jimmy quickly.

"I don't think the Indians can quite see the ball, Farokh, it's moving too fast for them..." droned Johners.

Yashpal Sharma walked out to bat, his expression grim, steel gleaming beneath.

*************

"What do you say now, Johners?" asked Farokh. "Sharma and Patil seem to be seeing the ball pretty well now."

"Well, yes, I would have to agree with that."

Over the next ten minutes, Jatin was continually deprived of his popcorn—and overwhelmed—as every single person in the front row, even those sitting far away, came to shake his hand, pat his back and say a good word to him.

"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant."

"For a moment I did think we're watching highlights and not a recreation."

"Yash would've been so proud, Jat..."

The last one was from Jimmy sir, who, as Jatin and everyone else knew, had been closer to Yash pa than his own family and Jatin felt a horrible burning at the back of his eyes that he was instantly ashamed of.

Hardy squeezed his shoulders from the side like he knew.

Saqib had been feeling proud of Jatin too—till Jimmy sir praised him.

***************

"262. That's a good score put up by the Indian batsmen, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, yes, but that basically means the West Indies middle order will also get some batting practice today."

"His mouth does need to be tied," Kirti whispered to Madan.

"Kaps didn't tie our mouths back then," said Madan.

"Yashpal picks up the ball from the covers—it's direct hit! And Haynes is out!"

"This guy would've given Ravindra Jadeja a run for his money," commented someone audibly from the back.

"And would probably have won," said Cheeka, also audibly.

"That's what I always say," said Kirti.

"And in walks probably one of the greatest batsmen in the world today, Richards," said Farokh.

The music befitting Viv Richard's boss-like status in the cricketing world brought on cheers from everyone.

****************

As rain interrupted play and the players were walking off, Maddi caught up with Ballu and slung an arm around him.

"Ballu...isse bol kal tujhe dekh lunga."

"Maddi pa chhar de na...kyu pange lena hai," said Ballu.

"Arey bol de," pressed Maddi. "Kal jab teri bolwing face karega na, yaad rakhega. Darr jayega."

"Darr jayega!" said Ballu scornfully. "Maddi pa, wo Viv Richards hai! Aise chhittar marta ball uske saamne jane se darrta hai. Darr jayega!"

"If you'd said this, he'd have agreed at once," Maddi whispered to Jimmy.

If Jimmy hadn't been Jimmy, he'd have said, "I s'pose I have a talent for authority."

But since he was Jimmy, he just grinned and said, "They might not treat you like a senior, but they love you."

"We do," agreed Kirti and his expression of love was a slap on Maddi's back.

"Get off," said Maddi, annoyed.

"Toh kya huya wo Viv Richards hai? Yaad nahi Kaps ne kya kaha tha? Darrna nahi hai," said Maddi. "Bol de."

Ballu looked undecided.

"Oye bol de!"

"Gal sun oye!" said Ballu.

Thunder roared as Richards looked back; Ballu turned to Maddi in panic.

"Kya bolna tha?"

"Kal tujhe dekh lunga," prompted Madan.

"See you tomorrow," said Ballu. Smiling. Politely.

Madan looked at him in disgust as Roger came running up.

"You're mine," he said quietly as he overtook Richards.

"Careful what you ask for, man," said Richards.

"Jhatt man!" said Maddi. "Ab lori sunayega use?"

**************

"Second day of play, Richards on strike, Roger Binny to begin India's bowling attack. Let's see what Viv does today..."

"Binny running in on this overcast day...Kirmani catches it...and Viv Richards it out for 17! Binny has the man himself and Richards in back in the pavilion—"

Maddi, running in from the boundary, laughing, shouted, "Dekha Ballu? Bola tha na maine?"

All the wickets, right up to the last one was shown, moments even the team itself had forgotten—Ballu's runout, Binny's second, Shastri's last wicket of Garner, which however, none of them had forgotten.

"India has done the unthinkable. They have defeated the unbeatable, the invincible West Indies!"

That was followed by the national team singing a Punjabi wedding victory song and dancing like kids, like it'd been out of their wildest dreams to do what they'd just done—

"Did we actually sing that after a league stage victory?" asked Sunny.

"We did," said Dilip. "And shame on you that you don't remember."

"Look at Cheeka making Man bhai dance," commented Roger.