As a baby in the arms I must have watched out with my tiny eyes far on to the green grassy ground and wondered what the men in white were doing.
My father loved cricket and made it a point to watch all the test matches he could.
So it is little wonder that when I grew up a bit and went(was taken) to a sports goods shop I would not settle for a plastic bat and ball.
I selected an English willow bat and the red cherry(the real hard red coloured leather ball).
I loved the thump of the willow bat on to the red hard leather ball bowled to me by my father on the green grassy lawn on the side of our house.
Those child hood days playing real cricket are fond memories of a place and of my father who is up there some where among the stars.