Munshi Premchand's "Cricket Match": A Story of Disappointment and Unexpected Encounters

Munshi Premchand's Popular Story: Cricket Match

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Below is a timeless story by Munshi Premchand, titled:

Cricket Match

I cannot express the profound disappointment I felt at the cricket match today. Our team, far superior to the opposition, still lost. They celebrated their victory, hoisting the trophy. Why? Simply because our selection process lacked merit. We prioritised wealth over competence in leadership. His Highness was chosen captain, the Cricket Board's decision unquestioned. Yet, how many hearts burned with anger? How many accepted this decree as the inevitable, where was the passion, the resolve, the fierce determination to fight to the very last breath? We played with honesty and dedication, but we were no army ready to lay down their lives for truth. The game lacked heart.

Standing at the station, preoccupied with securing my third-class ticket, a young woman, who had just alighted from a car, approached me, shaking my hand and saying, "Are you also traveling on this train, Mr. Zafar?"

I was surprised by her knowledge of my name. For a moment, I felt a disconcerting lack of proper decorum. There is a certain majesty in beauty that forces even the most distinguished to bow their heads. I had never felt such profound humility. I had shaken hands with the Nizam of Hyderabad, His Excellency the Viceroy, the Maharaja of Mysore, shared meals with them, but never before had this sense of inadequacy overwhelmed me. I felt an urge to kiss her feet. It wasn't a common beauty, nor the refined elegance that poets often invoke. Instead, I found brilliance of intellect, depth of character, dignity, eagerness and a fearless desire for self-expression.

I replied in a questioning manner, "Yes."

How could I ask when we met? Her casualness hinted at familiarity. How could I maintain an air of aloofness?

I, as a man, felt compelled to offer my assistance. "May I be of service?"

With a smile, she said, "Yes, you will be of great service. Please, sit in the waiting room. Are you headed to Lucknow? So am I."

Once seated in the waiting room, she gestured for me to take a comfortable chair and offered her cigarette case. "Your bowling today was truly remarkable; otherwise, we would have lost the entire innings,"

My astonishment grew. This woman also held a passion for cricket! I felt a blush of embarrassment in her presence. Never had I behaved so informally. My focus was solely on her. A sense of constriction settled within me. The invigorating spirit and vibrant energy that typically accompanied such situations were absent.

I inquired, "Were you present at the commencement of the match?"

She lit her cigarette, replying, "Yes, from start to finish. I was particularly impressed by your play. The rest seemed disheartened, and I understand why. Our society lacks the fortitude to place the right people in the right positions. Our political system seems to have crushed every virtue. Wealth dictates everything. A person of means can become president of any intellectual or social gathering, whether they possess the relevant knowledge or not. Inaugurations, foundation laying ceremonies, cultural movements, graduation speeches, and awarding ceremonies are all bestowed upon those who possess wealth – regardless of their merits or capabilities. No wonder we are so degraded and fallen! In matters of power and authority, concessions are inevitable. We must bow to those in positions of influence. However, even in our personal choices, our desire to please others has become a compulsion. If you had been captain of the team, you would see the other side of the coin. The Maharaja's qualifications for team captain were no greater than yours for presiding over the assembly or me for acting in a film."

I agreed wholeheartedly, "You are correct. It is certainly our weakness."

"You shouldn't have been involved in this team."

"I was compelled."

Her name is Miss Helen Mukherjee. She has just arrived from England, and has come to Bombay to watch this cricket match. She has a medical degree from England, and dedicated to serving the public. She read about me in a newspaper and saw a picture of me. From that moment, she has been following my progress. She admired my performance on the field. Her dream is to assemble a new team of representatives who are capable of representing our nation; she wishes to name me as captain. With that aim, she wishes to tour India. Her late father, Dr. N. Mukherjee, left a significant estate, and she is his sole heiress. The idea filled me with an extraordinary sense of anticipation.

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