In the newly released film Hattrick, Rimii Sen is faced with a dilemma that many women will face over the next month. She plays a cricket widow, whose cricket-crazy husband would think of the fine leg on screen rather than hers. No matter what she does to seduce him, Sen cannot get Kunal Kapoor’s attention, until she figures that if you can’t beat them, join them.
Cricket widows are another species of neglected wives, like soccer and golf widows. These wives contend with husbands sprawled out on couches, glued to the telly, grunting instead of conversing. “Cricket widows exist because of a stereotype,” says Dr Ekta Soni, psychologist, Apollo Hospitals. “Women have the notion that they cannot enjoy the game, just as men grow up with the notion that it is the biggest adrenaline high and sometimes become over-obsessed with it.” Soni advises on how to cope with it: “Don’t spend time sulking. Utilise that time to do your own thing and understand that it is just a sport and not a competitor for your spouse’s attention.”
During the cricket season, I question my very existence. I’m totally ignored by both Javed and Farhan. These days, with the World Cup on, they have a khadi flag wrapped around the screen. Once the match starts, they settle in front of the TV and then nothing on earth can move them. And when the TV is not on, then there are intense conversations at the dinner table and on the phone and, of course, it’s all about cricket.
I know zilch about cricket, except that one side has 11 people. And whenever Javed tries to explain anything to me, I just switch off. They feel sorry for me, thinking I’m being deprived of the biggest thrill in the world. Anyway, I am jinxed: whenever I watch, one of our batsmen gets out. So they don’t allow me to enter the room. They just yell out when they run out of snacks or drinks and I’m expected to go running.
But I’ve figured that things without remedy should also be without regard. There are times when I have to remind Varun that I’m not the only one in the marriage. He gets so obsessed with cricket that he can think of nothing else. Not only does he watch every match on our home theatre with all his friends, but he also goes out and plays cricket on holidays. I have to issue ultimatums to him — that there are things to be done at home and he can’t be playing cricket every holiday. When his friends come over, it becomes a loud, boisterous riot and I stay back and cook for them.
These days, I go to bed at 9 pm, since I know that he will be up all night. Whenever his team wins, they call me over to celebrate. But I mostly stick out like a sore thumb. When the conversation moves to anything beyond sixes and fours, I’m at a loss.
Now, with weeks of cricket ahead, I’m trying hard not to crib.
These days, our entire life is planned according the ICC schedule for the World Cup. We don’t go out much and if we do, then only to the homes of friends who are as crazy about cricket as Suniel is and would have the TV on. Suniel mostly wants to be left alone when he is watching cricket. So, I make plans with friends, go out on my own or catch up on my reading. Sometimes, I go and watch the last few overs, as it is the only way I get to spend time with him when a cricket match is on.
First I just couldn’t understand how anybody could watch cricket through the day, everyday. And since he also plays regularly, he expects me to go and watch his matches. The one time I went, I embarrassed him by asking his teammates how they could spot the ball from such a distance. We have just bought a new LCD screen to watch the World Cup matches and he is eating, sleeping, breathing cricket these days.