Sir PM rubbed his eyes in disbelief. At a distance his friend, Lady Flora, was shadow batting at one corner of Horniman Circle Garden, Her white gown was hardly a deterrent as she practised a robust bat-swing; it was a funny sight but he decided it would be best to ignore the stunt given that his previous attempts to be humourous ended sorely. “My Lady, may I ask what activity you are engaged in with such seriousness?” he enquired. She swung her head mid-way, looking a tad upset at being disturbed in the middle of this intense make-believe session. “Oh, Pheroze! You are already here. I was reliving some old moves. It’s such a nostalgic feeling,” she seemed lost in a moment. Sir PM was sufficiently intrigued to witness this new side of his friend. “And may I ask, what triggered this urge to reminisce about what I can only guess is batting practice for the game of cricket?”

Lady Flora took a deep breath and joined her friend at their favourite bench in the garden. “Pheroze, I am not sure about you, but I have been thoroughly enjoying the women’s cricket league games that are being played in the shortest format at the gorgeous Brabourne Stadium. I sneaked in the first time out of curiosity, and also because I was craving for K Rustom’s ice-cream sandwich, but after a few moments in the stands, I got hooked on it. It revived wonderful memories of watching games in the maidan, over a century ago…” she continued, obviously thrilled to recall a long-forgotten passion.