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From Delhi to Dharamshala and the Dalai Lama...and back again

As I sit down to pen down the events of the last two days, my feet and mind still quiver at the roller coaster ride that I have had, both as an avid cricket watcher and a backpacker tourist.

Like most of North India which had descended to Dharamshala & Mcleodganj (considered as a Mini Tibet in the country), I too decided to become a part of the wolf pack as soon as I got to know that match tickets for the 1st T20 game of the Gandhi Mandela series were available online.

Not sure as to whether anybody else would be accompanying me or not, I did purchase an extra ticket thinking I would have some company from one of my peer circles in Delhi. But to my horror of horrors, in the coming days I realized my battle with destiny had only just started.

With a long weekend approaching (with 2nd October being Gandhi Jayanti and a Friday) during the week of the T20 game, all hotels and buses going towards Dharamshala had been booked well in advance by fellow travelers.

Needless to say, I received scathing criticism from my relatives to my peers, who were all scolding me for planning such a trip in a haphazard manner. While I could not help feeling that they were justified in their anger which was coming out of care and concern for me, something deep inside told me that this would be a journey which I will regret for the rest of my life if I don’t undertake it.

As it happens often, one of my friends who is an ardent fan of AB Devilliers and was more desperate to watch the game than I was, couldn’t make it due to professional commitments. As a result, I realized this was going to be the first solo trip of my life where I was not even sure where I would be putting up in an unknown city given that all the hotels were packed to the rafters.

It was only on the second last day that I managed to get a bus ticket for Dharamshala, as all other buses and modes of transport had been booked. The journey was a painstaking one, with the bus having to stop at various halts due to non-compliance with state highway authorities and it took me almost 13 hours to reach Dharamshala instead of the stipulated 11 hours.

2nd October: 12 Noon to 6:30 P.M

2nd October may have been Mahatma Gandhi’s birthday, but the whole of North India seem to have descended to Dharamshala to celebrate it with the kick off of the T20 game between India and South Africa.

It was an arduous journey from the point where the bus dropped me to the ticket counters near the stadium. As I got off, I could see countless number of people heading towards the same direction, all of us giving a smirkish smile to each other indicating that none of us were alone in pursuing the madness called cricket.

As I was heading towards the stadium, a person suddenly approached me for a ticket. The gentleman did not appear to be in the finest of clothes or refinery but appeared to be a local. As we got talking, I realized he was on the lookout for a ticket, as it happens very rarely that a cricket game is hosted in his part of the world (Dharamshala).

While he was on the lookout for a ticket with the minimum denomination (INR 300), I offered him my EXTRA TICKET (which cost INR 1200). I was moved by his honesty when he told me that he would not be able to pay me the money for such an expensive ticket. So I asked him if he could arrange me accommodation, which he gladly offered.

So, I struck a deal with him offering my extra ticket in exchange for a night's accommodation at his place, a proposal he gladly accepted.

The ticket counters were saturated with people from Punjab, Kashmir, Delhi and Himachal Pradesh, some like me who were collecting tickets that were booked online while others were scrambling for tickets that would be available on the black market.

As soon as I got my extra ticket everyone started approaching me, offering me exorbitant premiums for the ticket. However, in hindsight I am glad that I honoured my deal with the man I had met earlier.

Raghu, as he was called, came running to the stadium as soon as I called him telling him that I had got the ticket. Even Usain Bolt would have been proud of the 1.5 km sprint that he had made from his home to the stadium.

It did fill my heart with pride, that I felt that I was able to make a difference, even if a minute one, in someone’s life by giving him 3.5 hours of joy and happiness. On reaching his home his wife told me as to how, he had not been going to work as he was too busy in the scramble and catfight of the tickets of the cricket match.

Raghu is perhaps a reflection of how the game seeps into the deepest roots of economic imperfection in the country and yet binds us together irrespective of social and economic disparities.

On reaching his home, he and his wife were calling up all their relatives in their home town at Chhattisgarh expressing their joy and ecstasy of their accomplishment of having acquired match tickets for such a high profile game.

The extra ticket which had become my friend's loss became Raghu’s gain. While Raghu believed that I had been a Godsend to him, he had no idea as to how much of a Messiah he had been to me by giving me shelter at his home.

After refreshing myself, I stepped out to the city of Dharamshala as I was quite famished after my long and tiring journey. As I was having my lunch at around 3:00 P.M, I got a frantic call from Raghu asking me about my whereabouts as he had already reached the stadium.

At this moment perhaps I realized what this game meant to the locals. In the glittering lights of cities like Delhi or Mumbai where people gather for the match just half an hour to an hour before a game, here was a guy who was willing to spend more hours waiting for the match in the stadium than the actual match itself.

Both amused and baffled by this strange sequence of events I made my way to the stadium by 5:00 P.M after having refreshed myself with a scrumptious meal.

As I headed towards the stadium the entire town of Dharamshala seemed to have been painted in Blue.

The town seemed to be resplendent with boards and banners of the BCCI Sexretary Mr. Anurag Thakur, who has brought Himachal Pradesh into limelight as a premier cricketing venue in the country.

My horror struck me as I saw a massive queue standing outside the periphery of the stadium waiting with bated breath to enter it. In hindsight, I felt Raghu’s decision of reaching the stadium and park himself four hours before the game seemed to be a wise one.

It is no wonder as to why players across the world love to play in India, as the fanaticism shown by the people of India for this wonderful sport gets the best out of them to perform in front of a full house cricketing amphitheatre.

The love and devotion for the game is provided in ample evidence as each individual displays nerves and courage in a mob like set-up which desperately wants to enter the ground as quickly as possible.

It is these kind of smaller cricketing centres which need to host more games (including Test matches), as people here still value a game much more than the bigger cities where international games are held more often.

The dynamics of the economic laws of demand and supply have never been in better demonstration as seen for international games in the metros viz-a-viz Tier I, II and III cities.

Having pushed and shoved my way to the stadium I finally made it into the ground where initially it looked that not even a single seat was left to occupy. As I began ruing my decision of having made it late (though there was still half an hour for the game to start), I suddenly spotted a group of South African supporters (some Indians and some South Africans) and there was a vacant seat!!

Like a vulture I swooped down the spot making it my own. I was reaping the benefits of being a solo traveller to a cricket game for the first time in my life!

2nd October: 7:00 P.M- 11:00 P.M – The Game Unfolds

With South Africa winning the toss and the Indian openers making their way, the stadium burst into rapturous adulation as Rohit Sharma and Shikhar Dhawan made their way to the wicket. However, as far as the mood of the ground was concerned irrespective of nationality, caste or creed, it was AB Devilliers who appeared to be the apple of the eye as far as audiences were concerned.

As Rohit Sharma started blazing his way, the crowd kept hopping on their seats both with joy, admiration and wonder on seeing one of the current day enigma’s of Indian cricket performing up to his true potential.

Being ably supported by Virat Kohli, it became evident as to why Gautam Gambhir called him the Rolls Royce of Indian batting. The crowd too seemed to be hypnotized with the graceful charm of his batting, in which even bat and ball made contact there didn’t seem to be a sound of the two objects making contact.

Shikhar Dhawan’s marginal run out served as a gentle reminder to everyone that the margin of error with a quality team like South Africa needs to be kept minimal if not zero. The stadium burst into explosion when Rohit Sharma hoisted Merchant De Lange for a straight six to reach his century.

One realized that South Africa’s sorry state of affairs had reached a tipping point when a quote from the scoreboard asked whether South Africa could try and bowl AB de Villiers

However as they say, one should never take anything for granted. As soon as experts took it for granted that India would cross the 220 mark, tragedy struck as Kohli and Rohit Sharma got out in the same over and India failed to kick on beyond 200.

Dhoni’s last ball six to reach 199 added a gentle reminder that the Indian skipper, though now a little restrained, still has the brute force of his past which had brought him in the limelight a decade ago.

The lunch break gave me an opportunity to interact with this small section of the crowd that was rooting for South Africa. It was incredible and heart-warming to learn that this family had travelled all the way from South Africa to Mcleodganj to learn about Tibetan Culture and their way to life.

Alfred, Leonie and their friend Giselle have made Mcleodganj their home until December, when till their course finishes. Their sporting spirit and ability to mingle with the crowd made them the toast of our stand.

In addition there were a number of Indians who may have been rooting for India, but were wearing South Africa on their sleeves. I liked to believe that they were real devotees of de Villiers as they seemed to have all his career statistics at the tip of their fingertips.

Perhaps it is this unique broth of cricket fanatics that strikes a chord with foreign teams who love to play in our country.

However, Sharma had only been an appetizer as far as the crowd was concerned. The main course started when de Villiers started ripping the heart out of the Indian batting with his audacious but straightforward batting.

Having launched himself with a six of debutant Sreenath Aravind, he galloped away tearing the Indian bowling attack to smithereens. As much as the crowd was mesmerized with his powerplay, the Indian in them wanted de Villiers dismissed as the match was beginning to emerge as a no contest.

While Sharma was all grace, the crisp thud of the ball hitting Hashim Amla's and de Villiers' bats echoed even in the vociferous ambience of the ground.

It was now the turn of the South African supporters to cheer. With de Villiers performing at the peak of his powers it filled the heart with joy to see people of both Indian and South African origin supporting a team that was not India.

The prayers of the Indian crowd were soon answered as Amla, de Villiers and Faf du Plessis got out in quick succession. With Ravichandran Ashwin at the peak of his cricketing abilities maintaining a tight leash, the match seemed to be heading towards an action-packed climax.

The turning point came in the 16th over when Duminy hoisted Axar Patel for three consecutive sixes, not only breaking the stranglehold created by the Indian bowlers, but also the moral of the crowd.

However, tight bowling from Bhuvneshwar Kumar and Mohit Sharma meant that South Africa needed 10 runs off the last over. Saying that the audience were sitting on the edge of their seats would be an understatement as the entire ground was seen standing on the seats as well as the railings.

With debutant Aravind bowling the final over, the match hung in balance for the first two balls until Duminy hoisted the third ball, a full toss, into oblivion. The crowd gulped and gasped down their sorrow, as they saw the ball disappearing into oblivion before appearing again on the boundary ropes.

The joy of the few South African supporters knew no bounds as they jumped and danced like peacocks do at the onset of rain.

The Indian audience too displayed their sportsmanship by getting themselves photographed with the South African fans. This match served as a true reflection of the maturity of the Indian public who now no longer keep their team at gun points, with respect to winning each and every game. And that perhaps is one of the reasons as to why our team has done well for over a decade and a half.

At the end of the day, everyone in the stadium realized that they would be carrying with themselves a parcel of memories that cannot be substituted for any other gift in the world.

3rd October: Midnight - 8:00 A.M – That Night

As the hysteria of that magical night died down, everybody began heading back to their respective lodges and hotels, some disappointed and others just dazed by the action packed sporting amphitheatre that had lasted 3.5 hours.

As I headed back with Raghu to his home, I began to muster the mental courage of having to sleep on the rugged floors of his home. The arrangement made by him was to the best of his ability and perhaps the affection with which he had managed to make those arrangements was a treasure to cherish for the rest of my life.

Despite the layer of the sack and the woollen blanket, the floor was excruciatingly cold. The pursuit of watching a simple game of cricket had brought me down to a ground level reality where I thanked destiny for the abundance of comforts we have been bestowed with as children who stay in our plush homes in the cities.

Even though I have not played cricket much, in an unconventional manner cricket had become a great leveler for me as well! Tossing and turning myself throughout the night, I survived the rigorous six hours.

By 8:00 in the morning, I had taken my bath and took leave of Raghu and his family to head towards Mcleodganj.

3rd October: 9:00 A.M - 1:00 P.M – Blessed with the Dalai Lama

If I thought that my share of adventure was over on Gandhi Jayanti day, destiny made me realize more was in store for me.

Having made my way to Mcleodganj as one of the countless tourists who traverses the city every day, word had spread that the Dalai Lama would make a glimpse of a public appearance as he would be coming back from the U.S.

Seeing the wide array of people both locals and tourists who had assembled at his monastery, it struck me with wonder as to how the definition of faith vary from people to people. While faith in cricket had brought me to Dharamshala, Dalai Lama was the emblem of faith for these thousands assembled who considered themselves blessed on just getting a minor glimpse of the great soul.

The heavy security got me wondering as to what must it be like when celebrities such as cricketers and film stars make a public appearance in our country.

My queries were answered soon when a café owner mentioned that the day before the cricket match, the South African team had made its way to Mcleodganj for Dinner. While Amla and du Plessis were still able to sign a few autographs, a ring made of bullet-proof security had encompassed de Villiers.

I had nothing else to say. In the midst of my stunned silence the Dalai Lama made his way amidst a tight security cover comprising bullet proof Scorpios reminiscent of scene shown in a Telugu or Tamil Action movie.

As the crowd dispersed, I made my way to one of the cafés where I bumped into Alfred and Leonie (The South Africans as I like to call them!!!).

This pleasant chance encounter gave me an opportunity to interact with them in a more civilization-based ambience.

Alfred’s knowledge about cricket, beginning from the times of Clive Rice and Barry Richards to the likes of Cronje, Donald and Kluesner whom we have idolized as a generation of the 90s indeed brought a smile to my face.

Leonie, however, does mention, that watching an international game of cricket in South Africa is more of a family experience in comparison to grounds in India.

"The green meadows, grass embankments of The Centurion Cricket Ground, the barbeque and children hopping across the grass field make the entire affair like a picnic," she told me.

"Also unlike in India where security is tighter outside the stadium, in South Africa more emphasis is laid on security and police officers being placed inside the ground to prevent crowd invasion."

Alfred adds further that Dharamshala reminds him of the ground in Cape Town where Table Mountain encompasses the stadium.

The only minor difference is that Table Mountain is perhaps a bit closer to the stadium in comparison to the Himalayas which are slightly further away. The desire to get another photo with this wonderful family is gleefully acknowledged and fulfilled with a promise that maybe they will try to make it to Delhi for the final Test match of the tour from 3rd-7th December.

3rd October: Rest of the day

As the rest of the day passes, I make my way to temples, waterfalls and cafés trying to play my own T20 by covering as much of Mcleodganj as possible knowing very well that my dream bubble would burst soon as I board the 6:30 PM bus to Delhi.

As I realize at 6:30, my bus has been delayed indefinitely and I spend my time in the bus stand catching up with fellow passengers who like me had made this madcap travel to the mountains on the call of the cricket game.

As the bus finally arrives at 9:30 P.M (after a three-hour delay on acoount of traffic caused by people from Delhi who had come to watch the match!) and departs at 9:45 P.M, I crash down to sleep; tired, exhausted but happy!!

And as I sleep all the characters of Dharamshala – Raghu, Devilliers, Rohit Sharma, Dali Lama, Alfred, Leonie, Giselle; who made my trip a memorable experience brings a sense of fulfillment and achievement to mind.

Here's hoping that once more I get to meet at least some of them, maybe in Delhi for the final Test match from 3rd-7th December again!