Ours was probably the first ever and perhaps the only love story, the seeds of which were sown during an Indo-Pak cricket match between two people wearing opposing shirts. When tensions run as high as they do during any collision between the two sub continental giants, the last thing one would expect is a love story blossoming out in the midst of all the palpable rivalry. That is precisely what happened with us. Here it goes…
The scoreboard read Ind 265-8 in 45 overs needing another 30 in 30 balls. Balanced on a knife’s edge, the match being played at Chandigarh’s picturesque Punjab Cricket Association (PCA) stadium was one for posterity. It had everything that Indo-Pak matches are renowned for – lots of boundaries, jaw breaking bouncers, toe crushing yorkers, an ugly spat between two short fused players and finally a thrilling finale. Unlike others who won’t move an inch even resisting their pees for a superstitious fear of India losing a wicket if they shifted, I was carrying popcorn back to my seat. I was hungry so I needed food. For me it was as simple as that (my cricket crazy brothers called me unpatriotic for this). On my way back swimming through a sea of fanatics, I bumped into her. She was moving in the opposite direction struggling equally, if not more. Glad to find another unpatriotic mortal but irritated because of the spilled popcorn, I looked at her preparing to scowl like a pro. But right there it all stopped – time and stuff. She was a Pakistani beauty – Pakistani I could gauge from the green and white flag painted on her diamond like glittering cheeks – hotter than all the models I had ever seen on FTV. She had black hair with a pink and white hair-band, which gave her a Barbie doll kinda look (I found out in course of time that fortunately she was not as dumb as Barbie doll kinda girls normally are). She looked stunning in a very simple and very unfashionable green and white (obviously) salwar kameez. Right there, I knew if there ever was anything called love at first sight, this was it. I was head over my shoes for that pretty little thing staring at me from her large beautiful black eyes. I was in love. No questions asked.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to” she said. “It’s completely okay. Actually its my fault, I was looking at the match rather than straight. I am sorry” trying my best not to make her feel bad. “Is it ? ” she asked. “Then you better pay for my popcorn and coke”. “Excuse me?”. “Just kidding.. Hi, I am Meera”. “Aditya. Nice to meet you, rather bump into you… Sorry”. And that was the first of many panchats I impressed her with in future.
On my way back home, I received a text from her wishing me congratulations on an Indian victory.
Three years later, we married each other at Chandigarh’s Guru Nanak Sahibji’s Gurudwara. She chose to wear a white and green salwar kameez, much more fashionable and embroidered this time around but looking equally stunning like she was the first time we had met. But it was only later that I found out the rationale behind it, which was this - India was playing Pakistan in Karachi that day.
‘Hard Luck. Pakistan Won’ was the last text I received before turning in. What love !!
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