True Fan (Indian Cricket)

Lunch crowd thinning quickly at K.V. First few spoonfuls of the rasam surveying the tables one was about to say a chap always felt warm in that place! Such has been the delightful cool of recent days here on the equator. With only short bursts of rain not much evidence of the nor‘westly monsoon. A couple of days ago a bold and brilliantly illumined moon low in the east and slow-rising. A boy at the Haig bus-stop the other night must have sighted it a day or two before, because he was drawing mummy's attention to a corner of the sky where he was hoping for re-appearance. Rather touching: there were at least two of us on the island taking note. With some opportunity in the respite, Shanmugam rounded for a couple of chats. Lad had noticed the absence last few days and well-knew the reason. Sly smiles. Thankfully the white collared Colorado shirt had been donned for lunch. At Al Wadi in the morning there had been close scrutiny from Zaharuddin at the counter. A passing look in the mirror preparing for the second outing provided a shock when the loose collar of the KL Islamic Museum tee showed big-toothed Ni's marks of passion from the day before. Odd for Zaharuddin, a father of four young children, to see on a professional Westerner and an intellectual of sorts. (In younger years Zaharuddin had studied Arabic seven years in Syria and then one more year in Egypt. We were fixing for a meeting and chat.) Cricket it was again with Shanmugam; other subject matter quickly ran dry. The New Zealand lad Guptill had made a quick-fire half century the day before, almost in world record time: a mention on ABC online. Fellow didn't know how close he was till the last few balls, Mugam knew. Pity. Record gone begging. Wasn't the lad an all-rounder?... Yes, earlier in his career. Now solely a batsman. Not a Tamil by any chance?... Brought head-lolling assent. What, Tamil? Guptill a Tamil?... Ah. Born in India was he?... No, parents or grandparents; immigrated. In earlier conversations Shanmugam had bemoaned the kind of deracination that occurred with immigration. Often enough at Komala a Chindian entered who would have no idea of his heritage. With Shanmugam's assistance one was slowly beginning to discern. Shanmugam twisted his head like a pony in those instances. So Guptill almost a world record. The performance would have made it into Tabla on the Friday, had it been realized, whether or not young Guptill acknowledged his ancestry. Another thing too on Guptill was it? Shanmugam's heavily chewed English could not be comprehended immediately. When Mug bent close to deliver one was often surprised by the level of vocab. It was only pronunciation that continued to snag. Twice incomprehensible here brought Mugam around the table into the narrow passage in order to show his sandalled foot... Oh. Oh. Young Guptill missing one or more toes from one of his feet? Really?... Well golly. It had not stopped the young champ's progress; almost a world record. Claimed by the people from the land of his forebears, however young Guptill might conceive of himself. Bright Tamil star. Shanmugam was a proper aficionado. Australia v. West Indies meanwhile at the G? Last time Mugam looked Windies were seven down second innings. Not much of interest there, though there was more than one Indian name in that line-up too.