THE LAST BALL SIX- REVIEW

THE LAST BALL SIX- REVIEW

A Racy, Hilarious Saga of a Mad, Mad Indian Cricket Fan

If cricket could be equated to religion, Tijinder Tuteja or Titu would automatically qualify as Devotee Number One. Period. Cricket was the elixir of life for him.

Over time, Titu gets addicted to T20 - the new, bang-bang variety of cricket. His favourite team is the Punjab Pulverizers and his god is Khoobraj Singh, the PP's acest batsman. In a bit of a stroke of luck, Titu wins a couples entry-pass to the final match of BPL - the Bharatiya Premier League - the T20 cricket tournament on the face of this earth... and the cherry on the cake is that PP are going to be playing HH - the Haryana Hounds.

It turns out to be quite a humdinger of a match - sending Titu's heart-rate and blood pressure soaring with each passing minute. He turns very pale and begins to perspire copiously. But so engrossed is he in the match that he doesn't feel the gnawing pain creeping up his chest until suddenly, he collapses in his seat and his heart stops beating. Horrified, Tilottama, his wife, let's out a scream of despair which promptly gets lost in the excited, unrelenting uproar all around them.

What happens then? Does cricket manage to, quite literally, kill its biggest fan? Or does cricket, with one, final, life-saving stroke of its bat, manage to redeem the life of its biggest patron ever?

Who wins this match of life and death? Find out!

                                                                          REVIEW

I don’t remember who introduced me to cricket but, I started playing with ‘Thapki’ the baton for beating clothes every household had before the washing machines became common and compulsory. Gradually, the addiction to cricket grew so much that I even slept with ‘Thapki’. I was six when I got my first bat after much persuasion- a fish cover with number 5 sticker. Even the shopkeeper tried to dissuade me saying that I was too small for a fish cover bat and that too so long.

My father was as strict as Mr Tuteja. Knowing that he would not allow me to play a match during examination days, I used to slip away before anyone in the house woke up. Needless to say what sort of welcome I used to get when I returned after playing. ‘THE LAST BALL SIX’ brought back all memories.

Delectable, with not a pinch of sorrow in it. Very Punjabi. Very 'Cricket-ish'. Simple. Unpretentious. Humourous. And, very relatable.

  

Pradeep Kapoor, after reading this book anyone can know why you are a successful paediatrician. You have such fetish for everything life is about- relationships, families, parenthood, love, adolescence, even womanhood and most subtly, the indispensable ingredient of happy living-Humour. Now, I know why in every pic you share, you always appear smiling even when you are not.

"Oh, you can smile after anything."           -Page 199.

As you read into this book, you realize and wonder what a devoted student of life the author is. The way he describes the Tuteja household is remarkable. You feel you are virtually living with that family. Gradually, you can assume reactions of the others when one of them says or does something even before reading further.

All the characters have been so well crafted that I felt I know them intrinsically.

The evolution of Indian cricket from naive participants to giants runs parallel to Titu's (Tijinder Tuteja, the protagonist) life. The author has given a detailed account of all the major cricketing events from 1971 to 2011. I won't comment on how essential these details were to the story, maybe, to portray Titu as a diehard cricket fan, but they sounded more of a hindrance to the story.

Everything about this story is so Punjabi. The author has chosen the names meticulously. They sound familiar and funny at the same time. Titu's marriage,  'phoopha ji' ke tantrums,  Mama's (the 'moonch' wali Helen) cabaret,  the 'Nagin' dance, the dancing getting 'frighteningly vigorous' just at the gate and not to forget the 'Milni' everything has been so vividly described that the words create a spectacle for you to relish.

The narration neglecting Titu's old parents in the last 50 odd pages pinched me. Sorry. I am too emotional to handle this slump.

This is a book for every Punjabi, every cricket buff and lovers of simple but relatable stories. It will make you smile, laugh and take you the allies of your childhood that time and life have mercilessly made blurred.