The Zoya Factor by Anuja Chauhan Page B

with the stumps and the bales flying, and then the cockney-accented commentator was yelling: 'And he's done it! The Sangrur Express has derailed the opposition! The young India team has won and what a win...!'
    He went on and on. They replayed the shot from every possible angle. Then he started rhapsodizing about how cool Khoda was too. And then the two commentators pounced on Khoda and Zahid as the team came walking back to the pavilion.
    'Congratulations...what an innings...fabulous.... How do you feel?'
    'Good,' said Khoda, with a quick grin. He looked happy, sweaty and relieved. 'We started well but then we lost a couple of wickets but then we steadied and Zahid played a very useful knock and then we managed to restrict them and it all worked out in the end...the boys did great.'
    'Was there some point where you lost the faith at all, Nikhil? Or were you confident right through?'
    'Well, I did start to worry in the last five overs because it was so very close but then we changed the field around and Zahid did a great job and the boys took some incredible catches...'
    'I was wondering, why did you play only Zahid in those last four overs? Because Bala and Thind had a couple of overs still in their kitty too. And Zahid didn't seem to be doing too well against them initially.'
    Khoda had screwed up his face thoughtfully halfway through this question and now he just shrugged and said: 'Well, he was a little expensive at first but I felt he was the right guy to get those wickets - it was close, too close for comfort, but it did end well.' A boyish grin lit up his face. 'Thankfully!' he said.
    The commentator turned to Zahid.
    'And how do you feel, Zahid? Thirty-three runs, five wickets and a hat trick, you've had a big day.'
    'Yes,' Zahid agreed happily. 'It was all a team effort and God has blessed me greatly and also I was just really really lucky.'
    'That's really modest of you,' the commentator said, clapping him on the back. 'You were great out there today. You've made a record, by the way, all that can't just be luck!'
    I watched Zahid, my heart hammering against my chest. A cheap little part of me wanted him to say something about me, after all I'd given him a lucky kiss, hadn't I? And I imagined my dad falling off his chair in KB, Sanks doing a double take in Delhi, Ritu Raina freaking out in Dhaka. But another part of me cringed at these idiotic groupie-type fantasies.
    Zahid looked like he wanted to say something but before he could, Nikhil patted him on the back and said cryptically: 'Great job, Zahid! Chalo , let's go in now!'
    Then this little presentation ceremony came on after another ad break. (Aamir for Coke again, those guys have such obscene budgets.) My idiot client Ranjeet presented a fifty thousand taka cheque to Zahid, a few speeches were made and it was all over for the day.
    Harry and Shivnath were really excited when they came in to do our patchwork shoot. Both of them insisted they'd won the match because of me, which defied all logic of course, but was very flattering. And then Zahid called up and gushed, insisting I was a farishta. I was dumb enough to put it on speaker phone and then had to endure Neelo and Vishaal singing Farishta sabun mera naam, mail bhagaana mera kaam , mein hoon kapdon ki shaan for the rest of the shoot.
    Well, at least we got our shots pretty quickly. Harry and Shiv were in high spirits and they posed happily for Vishaal - I Believe I Can Fly alternating with We Are the Champions on the speakers. Neelo was hugely relieved. He'd quickly sent off his jingoistic Zing! banner lines to Delhi - ('Australia's easy,' he confided to me. We can always use 'Assi jeetey, Aussies haarey .')
    Lokey bustled about in the background while we shot, tripping over the cables and wires, taking calls from Corporates who wanted to sign up Zahid immediately. 'Thee price just went up, Joyaji!' he said chuckling fatly, his face ashine with sweat and happiness. 'You people got him cheap!'
    By ten o'