Dear Ma,

This is a love letter.

It is addressed to you because the object of my affections may not ever see it. And you are the person who needs convincing that my love is true and heartfelt. Who will forgive a son’s foolish pursuits if not a mother?

You have asked me several times why I 'waste' my Saturdays and every other available opportunity on this love, at once both satisfying it and feeding it. The reason is there is nothing like this love in all the world. And you know, of course, I am not alone in this love – there are a few hundred million others. Who are in love with the same, beautiful thing.

There is something about standing on a cricket ground. There is a quietness about jogging around the ropes and warming up. There is a different sort of peace in wearing the whites. There is a little piece of heaven in feeling the ball strike the middle of the bat and watching it speed away, all along the ground, to the boundary. There is a primal release of energy in hooking a rising delivery over the ropes, looking the bowler in the eyes, and watching him lower his head in defeat. There is a wonderful sense of achievement in scoring a half century or century, and raising the blade in pride.

There is something about a team talk before taking the field. There is something about bowling your heart out, watching the bails fly and the wicket go cartwheeling over the grass. There is joy in taking a tough catch or diving across the grass to save a run. There is something about standing in the sun for two hours and not even feeling the heat. I could go on for a long time...

There is something in this game Ma...it makes me feel alive.

There are oh so many clichés associated with cricket, as with life. Cricket is a metaphor for life – both games of glorious uncertainties. Remember the images of Kapil Dev holding aloft the World Cup in 1983? Maybe winning the world cup is a metaphor of sorts for achieving your dreams, or achieving the impossible...or falling in love. Even if you’ve done it only once, it changes you for life – it’s forever.

I have a feeling this one is for life, Ma. I have tried hard for many years now, to rid myself of this madness, but have not been able to. I think this is love.

Please give me your blessings, and let your son go, knowing that he will always love you...too. :-)

Your son.

p.s. please could you see that my whites are cleaned – this time I’m sure the mud will come off if scrubbed hard enough. Also, you might want to leave the socks in the sun for a bit, before bringing them inside the house. Thanks!

^