Six hours of Hanuman Chalisa. Six minutes of Tata Sky blackout. Six packets of popcorn. Some hilarious Hindi commentary. Shradha Agarwal’s gruelling account of the Mohali match from Sabyasachi’s Hungerford Street living room!

I am not into cricket. But yes, I did bother to wear blue on Wednesday. The office environment was electric. Impossible to get any work done if you are jumping every time you think something has happened. Sabyasachi & Co. were watching the match in his house. Better there than here! But how was I to know?

Armed with April’s US Vogue (stunning Rihanna on their shape issue cover), I walk into the thunderous screams of “Ramayani chaar. Ramayani chaar. Ramayani chaar.” Apparently everytime they say only chaar, chaar, chaar the ball is stopped before crossing the boundary, so Ramayani (Sabya’s secretary) chaar is a better bet.

Thanks to Sehwag, lots of Ramayani chaars. And with each Ramayani chaar, Joey the Dog (Golden Retriever, four months) gets over-excited, running around and sniffing around!

I settle on the floor, turning the pages of my magazine. Barely 10 days before the Wills Lifestyle India Fashion Week finale, how can the whole gang just switch off? Turns out they haven’t completely switched off. Yet. Because when Gambhir gets out, an orange lipstick is discussed!

Sachin gets his third life, but no celebrations allowed. “No one will say anything. Overconfidence kills the day,” warns Sabya the Stern One. Ouch.

The TV booms: ‘Sachin ka jeevandaan… Is liye kehte hain: pakdo catch, jeeto match.’ Pure entertainment value!

Back to the match. The run rate is less than 6. Sabya is stressed. It isn’t going well. And then, wickets start falling. Virat, Yuvraj, Sachin, Dhoni. “We have to make 200 before 30 overs,” he mutters. Hmm.

Suddenly: “Arre! Copy, copy!” The TV shows Sunanda Pushkar and Shashi Tharoor. Sunanda is in a red thing, allegedly a Sabya copy! Then they show a happy Mika. And a worried fan. Things are getting edgy. No one is allowed to eat. Or drink. Or go to the loo.

Bored, I step into the bedroom for a break. Cheering and clapping. Were they trying hard to get rid of me? Turns out there’s no need for such self-importance. The boys in blue are finding the fence. My fate for the rest of the inning is sealed. I have to stay inside. Damn, I left my magazine in the TV room.

Second half of the game. I have to change my charm status. Having tried (and disliked) the floor and bed, I must look for a new spot. There is some space near Sabya on the bagru-swathed couch

Time for us to bowl. Isn’t that supposed to be the boring bit? I have never before tried to see this half of the match (not counting 20-20). The bowling begins. There will be some dot balls (hopefully). There will be some good fielding (hopefully).

“I can see Pakistan chasing. India doesn’t chase well. We have to keep the run rate below 6,” says Sabya. We ask for tea but some rules can’t be changed.

All is going well but quite slow. And then whoosh: the TV blanks out. It’s raining and when you have Tata Sky, you just have to “please wait till the rain subsides to regain signal.”.

Radio to the rescue. Laptop on lap. Something exciting is happening. A wicket falls! We see the first wicket fall (Kamran Akmal, caught Yuvi) scrambling over the laptop and hearing it on a radio.

The TV comes back on. The name Roger Binny crops up. “I’ve heard his name after sooo long.” Is Sabya really smiling?!

At this point, someone offers to do reiki to the batsman so that he suffers stomach cramps. My stomach is cramping even without reiki. Did anyone else hear the growl? No, because by then a different game has begun. A wicket will go in the 15th over, says someone. It does! Prize money of Rs 500 is handed out.

Sabya predicts the next wicket in the 18th over. I say 21st over. (I don’t remember taking any extra money home though.)

“Maiden over hoga toh frustration hoga.” Damn. Some fours are hit. Words of wisdom continue to float periodically. “A six or a four changes the confidence level.”

Sabya adopts a new strategy. It is called concentration-cum-chanting. “Wicket now. Wicket now.” The chant works! Umar Akmal is out. Deafening screams fill the den. Again. Joey the Dog loses it. Again. “This is the turning point of the match,” says Sabya.

STAR Sports zooms in on a lady reading the namaaz. “Priyanka read, Priyanka read.” Priyanka resumes reading the Hanuman Chalisa from her yellow BlackBerry. Louder than before.

We keep a close eye on the required run rate. “It has to climb to 8.” When it does, Sabya says: “It has to become 10.” Gradually it does. Greed has paid off but the word Powerplay brings back the fear. “I think I am getting a cardiac arrest,” says Sabya.

Yeah, right. I think I am going to die of thirst first.

When 21 runs are needed off 53 balls, the man mumbles. “Finally they have lost the match.” But this conviction doesn’t last. A few hits to the fence and it’s time for a Sabya sermon. “The reason I have done well in life is because I have never counted my chickens before they hatch. They can still do it...”

Ha!

We win.

Some make a dash for the fridge. Others for the loo.

Not Sabya. He runs to his cupboard for a quick change of tee.

Destination: Park Street. The party is on.

PS: Ramayani Chaar border is born. Team Sabya’s second cricket-inspired creation after Dhoni border!

PPS: Any t2 reader guessing Sachin’s score in the World Cup final and getting it right will get a free Sabya sari (MRP Rs 50,000). Hurry! Mail t2@abp.in by 10am on April 2. And no, this is NOT an April Fool’s joke.