“Patience is the ability to count down before you blast off.” ..truth be told.

Sri Lanka, the land like no other, famous for her hot spices, valuable gems, awesome elephants and cricket.  The sport, not the insect. Not even in its country of origin is cricket as popular and adored by so many fans as it is in Sri Lanka. To be precise, I’m not an extreme cricket fan, but I along with the 20 million population of Sri Lanka will agree on that.

It was this time last year that the Cricket World Cup was being held in Sri Lanka and I who had never been introduced to the world of cricket got my first dose of it when I attended a match. Since then I’ve had an unyielding urge to go for a match. ANY match. But preferably one that is played by Sri Lanka. It’s the adrenaline rush I assume. Everyone synchronizing together as one unit to cheer their team onto victory. 

I didn’t know what made me do it though. I really don’t. It was not at all like me to have agreed to stand under the hot sun for 4 hours but hey, that was where I found myself with another mate of mine. We were astonished to find that there was already a long line when we got there at about 9:45. We were further astonished to find that we were the only girls in it. On both the right and the left, men and boys of ages 16 and above were in line. 16 because an individual needed their ID to get the tickets in the first place so or else I’m sure I would have seen a LOT more.  

There we were, standing outside the fence, trying to piece things together, as in trying to make a rough estimate as to what we were about to do; which matches we were going to go and which days, calling home to inform them that we were alive and not being abducted anywhere etc. I had been here the previous day for a brief visit with another friend of mine and had already been exposed to about 1/5 th of the process. So while we were waiting we observed the people around us discussing. Some grumbling and complaining. Some making the most out of it by conversing (when I mean conversing, I mean their debates of match dates, prices, which teams were likely to make it through and which weren’t etc) and cracking jokes and for the most part enjoying themselves. Some even making the most of their time outside their work places to call people they haven’t called in a while and even making business calls, for i hear one chap go “..…I see. But I do hope the stock of paint has been delivered on time, I am going to be a bit late. Stuck in traffic. I hope you can see it through”

I have to admit. I was stunned. Why weren’t people jeering at us and making jokes on our behalf. We were the only girls in sight. I find that most of the time, the fairer gender face various complications. We usually find it difficult to walk 3 feet without being jeered at or made a part of some immature and unnecessary joke. But on the contrary, nothing of the sort happened. We were considered part of the queue and were left alone minding our own business while they minded theirs.

Every half an hour or so they would take about 10 people inside the premises. So I and my friend put our best ‘duka’ (sad) faces out to arouse some sympathy in the security personnel. Mind you, it worked. As predicted they were going to let us in. that is to say, they made the cut off limit for the next batch of people to get in, just after us. Chalk up another score for women’s lib. Whoop Whoop.

We were so relieved to get out of the heat and into the cool shade of the building when a certain bright spark at the front end of the line made the security personnel annoyed by trying to cheat his way in which in turn resulted in the refusal of said personnel to let the next batch in. The people who managed to get inside gave us the face, the "ha! in yo face" expression with a smirk. But hey it was all cool. I was just worried that the unlucky crowd would strangle the fellow. Astoundingly, nothing. Not even a peep. 

My and friend and I went back into putting our ‘duka’ faces and observing people. The fellows behind us had now been together for so long that they were now all “machan”s and “adho”s and continued their discussing in various issues regarding the match. I noticed that none of the guys behind us or in front of us had bought umbrellas and so we decided to spread the shade of ours as wide as it went in the name of humanity. It was the noon sun after all. (You could fry an egg on your head and boil water the way things were going.) They were grateful for it too. As wide and generous as that gesture was, we didn’t owe it to them to get more than necessarily acquainted and we firmly let that be clear.

To top off all of the drama and the hardships, a dude was taking pictures from a “white van”, I assumed it was for a sports section “frenzied fans burn to a crisp” article or some such. Still uncool bro, uncool. -.-

At last our time was up and we were making our way to the final line; AT the ticket counter itself. We enjoyed a feeling of unspoken happiness after receiving the tickets. After waiting so long, baking to a crisp under the sun and almost suffering from heats stroke, we survived to tell the tale. That feeling of getting what you want after going through a lot is just unbelievable.


Waiting is never my strength but I learned a lot that day, waiting in line. I saw the patience, the unity and the durability of our cricket fans who through difficulty and massive risk of heatstroke managed to rise to the occasion without their faith in cricket being shaken. Three cheers to out loyal cricket fans!