The Celebration

RCB's travails at the IPL this year inspired me to write a short story about them and their fans. Here it comes. I hope you like it. It's called The Celebration.

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The Celebration

"Are you going for Preeti's do in the evening?" Sunita asked Siya.

Sunita didn't feel like after what happened the last time they were all at one of these dinner parties that Preeti was so fond of organising during the IPL.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” said Siya.

“Really? Even after what happened last time?”

“Preeti’s marble cake and strawberry mousse are to die for. They’re both on the menu.”

“You know what happened to the menu at her last IPL party, right?”

“Yes, of course, I do. But this time it will be different.”

“Why will it be different?”

“Well, the law of averages says something has got to change.”

“You said that before the last game too. But nothing changed.”

“All the more reason I’m confident this party will not turn out to be a damp squib.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Sunita.

Siya was Preeti’s best friend. Clearly. She had so much faith in Preeti. And RCB. She hoped for the sake of Siya, the marble cake, and the mousse that RCB would manage to win their first game tomorrow night.

“Is Radha going to be there?” asked Siya

“I spoke to Radha before I called you. She’s not sure,” said Sunita.

“I bet Radha will be there. In fact, I think Radha celebrates every time RCB loses,” said Sunita.

Radha was from Delhi. She was a lifetime fan of Gautam Gambhir. Anything Gambhir said, Radha considered the gospel truth. After RCB lost their sixth game in a row, Gambhir said Kohli was no good as captain of RCB. Radha wholeheartedly agreed. Sunita was sure Radha would be there. Sure, Radha said maybe. But considering RCB’s record, Sunita was certain Radha would make it to celebrate another RCB loss. The thrill of schadenfreude was hard to say no to. Sunita knew this. She enjoyed it every time Delhi lost to Mumbai. Sunita was from Mumbai. And she loved the team even though it was captained by an overrated idiot. “You’re right. I’m sure Radha will be there. I’m also quite sure RCB will lose again.”

“We should go,” said Siya. “Preeti needs us. She will be depressed after the game.”

“And there’s the marble cake and mousse. Both will be divine. It would be a crime to say No to them.”

On game night, things didn’t look good for RCB. Or the marble cake. Or the mousse. Or Preeti. Or Siya. Radha, however, was overjoyed. But she was kind enough to not let in on it. She maintained a suitably sombre face through the game. Towards the end of the game, they all sat glumly and ordered take-out. The marble cake and mousse were meant to celebrate a win for RCB. Since it didn’t happen, Preeti insisted that it wasn’t right to enjoy the cake and mousse. She stomped out of the house with both the dishes in hand. She went looking for the chowkidar. No, not prime minister Modi. Her building had a proper chowkidar who talked less and did a lot more than the country’s self-professed chowkidar.

The chowkidar and his friends were following the game between RCB and DC closely. They could feel another celebration coming. They wondered what would be on the menu tonight. Last time, it was Zafrani Pulao and Pineapple Raita. It was so yummy. When DC beat RCB, it was time.

The chowkidar stood ramrod straight at the gate. He saw Preeti madam walk up to him. She looked upset. He tried to look mournful. Preeti looked at him and smiled. She handed the the marble cake and mousse to the chowkidar. And said, “Enjoy the celebration.”