A day's play

Rehman loved the quiet life. He spent most of his time on the computer. So, what made him a dodgeball enthusiast?

The Tempo Traveller bumped along the road to Mallur village. Rehman looked out the window, wondering yet again why he had allowed himself to be persuaded into joining his friends on this trip. No doubt the outing had been organised by the family of his close friend Nandan, but picnics were always such a waste of time. All picnickers were friends of the host family, and Rehman and his twin Rahima had been last-minute additions to the group. The group was headed to Patni Field, a dairy farm owned by Nandan’s grandparents.

Incessant chatter filled the vehicle, interspersed occasionally by the stubborn wails of toddlers.

“Boredom bugging you, bhai?” asked Rahima.

 “Not as long as I have this,” replied Rehman, fishing out a video game from the pocket of his jeans.

Rahima sighed, sympathetically. She knew how much Rehman loved the indoor life. He spent most of his free time gaming on the computer and occasionally in malls. Rahima, on the other hand, loved the outdoors. It had been Ma’s unrelenting persuasion that had helped her bring Rehman on an outing of this kind.

 “Okay now, drown the frown,” said Nandan, joining in. “You guys are such good sports to have agreed to come along.”

“I agreed only because you two are part of this trip,” said Rehman, “even though I don’t understand what one can do in the middle of nowhere.”

Nandan laughed, “Trust me Rehman, there is a lot of fun to be had especially in the middle of nowhere.”

The Tempo Traveller soon arrived at Patni Field. Nandan’s grandparents were at the gates to receive them. The group headed towards a small clump of trees.

“Last one to the first tree helps with brunch!” shouted Nandan to the twins.

The trio sprinted across the grass, the breeze brushing their faces. Rahima arrived first and Nandan last, but he seemed happy to help his parents and grandmother set up the place for their 10 o’clock brunch. Rehman, however, was surprised at how dissatisfied he was with such a short run and continued to jog around the trees for a little while longer.  After brunch, Rahima made a general suggestion of visiting the dairy cows.

Rehman mumbled ‘no’ and pulled out his video game once again.

“It’s become a part of you,” said Rahima, crossly. “It doesn’t matter to you what a beautiful place we’re at. How do you expect to have fun at a picnic if all you think about is that piece of junk?” Rehman bit back a rejoinder. Exasperated by his lack of companionship, Rahima and Nandan moved on with a few grown-ups, leaving him behind.

When the group returned, plans were already underway for the kind of games they would play.

 “We could start with dodgeball,” suggested Nandan’s father, “with no hard hitting, of course. Come on Rehman, join us!”

Rehman hesitated even as Nandan beckoned him. Then mouthing an apologetic “no,” he remained seated. Nandan looked disappointed. Rehman blushed. He did not intend to hurt the two people he liked most, but he simply had no interest in running about like kindergarten children and playing childish games.

“You aren’t happy at my farm,” said Nandan’s grandmother, who had seated herself beside the young boy so quietly that he hadn’t even noticed.

 “Of course I’m happy, Ajji,” said Rehman, surprised. “I have my video game.”

 “Yes, you do. But the happiness that comes from flexing your limbs in carefree play can be quite unbeatable.”

 “All one does in dodgeball is throw the ball around to eliminate players one by one. It’s such a childish game.”

“So what’s wrong with being childish?” reasoned Ajji. “You are a child yourself, my dear – only 14.” She pointed to Nandan’s grandfather on the team. “Taata is 60. Now, that is what I would call old!”

The video game in Rehman’s hand made a sound, notifying him of the evil warlord’s victory over his princely form. Ajji left to rejoin her team, but her words echoed in his ears.
“They do seem to be having fun,” thought Rehman. He remembered the happiness he had felt after the impromptu race. Ajji was right. Pocketing his virtual game world, Rehman approached Nandan’s father and spoke hesitantly, “Is there room for one more player?”

“Yes!” replied Nandan, instead. “We’re one member short. Come on and try not to get hit!”

With every passing ball, Rehman began to get into the spirit of the game. He felt tired, but never thought of quitting. Interspersed with short breaks, the picnickers moved from dodgeball to ‘Simon says’ to shadow tag. When the time came to say goodbye, Rehman gave Ajji a warm hug. “Thank you for getting me on my feet today,” he said. Then turning to Rahima and Nandan, he shouted, “Last one to the Traveller gets the front seat!” Off Rehman sprinted, his friends close behind.