It is not all about the bat and ball. For millions of South Asians, especially during a desi live match, the game becomes something else entirely. Homes become jovial, families come together and the day ceases to be time-based, the day becomes score-based.
The Game Day Mood: The Pre-Game Preparation of People.
As a matter of fact, the pre-build up of a big match, involving either India or Pakistan, starts way before the toss. WhatsApp groups will ransack days in advance. Men are comparing lineups, kids are doing posters, women are doing snacks and seat planning. We are not speaking of preparation alone; we are speaking of match conditioning.
The sale of snacks also goes quite well in the supermarkets: they sell chips, soft drinks, samosas, and sweets. To offer a positive viewing experience, many families are going to great lengths in order to get ready: cleaning their houses, updating the interior, and even checking their Wi-Fi signals to make sure that there is no buffering during the broadcast.
To the die-hard fans of the desi live matches, everything is timed: meals during inning breaks and tea during strategic timeouts, as well as bathroom breaks only between overs. Some even go to an extent of wearing their team jerseys to places as though they were going to stadiums.
Small steps of planning are tradition only. They turn match day into a familial performance in the sense that it is controlled, the same performance day in, day out, but with anticipation. All the antecedents antecedent to the first ball, are merely to be construed as Suggesting the Existence of a Rationale in it.
The Gathering: Who Comes and Why It Feels Like a Festival
A desi live match is not a one-person thing. It makes people closer to each other and in that sense it is superior to festivals. Long families, friends and neighbors make visits. There is a hope-and-competition-bound sort of electric light.
The outstanding thing is the dress code. Standard jerseys are worn but some people go an extra mile to paint their faces, use flag scarves and even wear bangles in the national colors. One of your uncles might wear an old fashioned jersey, 1992 version, and one of your younger cousins will wear the latest version of the player jersey.
The rituals follow next, as somebody burns incense, others yell slogans and many people bring out so-called lucky snacks which they believe helped win recent game. These are not superstitions but they are traditions.
It is the event which turns to a cultural festival, with food, music, and cheers. People are laughing, shouting, and commenting everywhere in the room and also feel that they are not just the spectators of something. They are members of something.
The Home Stadium: How Living Rooms Become Fan Zones
Enter a South Asian living room on match day, and it becomes quite obvious: this is not merely watching a game, but this is living it.
Televisions are also being replaced with new ones or relocated to central areas. Soundbars are tested, and displays are controlled. Some households even project the screen onto a white wall or use mini-projectors. The point is clear: we will not be in the stadium, so we will bring the stadium to our houses.
The sofas will be arranged in a grandstand formation, and the best position will be fiercely contested. Grandparents tend to take center position, kids sit on the floor, and others lean over chairs drawn out of bedrooms.
Snacks are served in intervals; oily pakoras are served first, followed by sweet meals when the team is performing, and chilled beverages are not far behind. To give an example, the host in one of the Bengaluru households makes biryani during a break in the innings so that guests do not miss even one ball.
There is an internal chant: Jeetega bhai jeetega! is synonymous with Move, I can not see! The roar is compensated by the fact that the crowd outside cannot be heard.
The Emotional Ride: What a Match Does to the Heart
There is no other entertainment that is able to swing the emotions as much as a desi live match. It can raise or lower,– and often does both, within the same hour.
Any weight is weighed There is a mis-catch and the group yells. Six sparks claps his hands, jumps, and even wipes the tears sometimes. There is an eruption of people embracing, yelling at one another, even leaving the game in some instances, and returning several minutes later.
In the case of such competitors like India and Pakistan, more loyalty is not the only factor that emerges. They bring up feelings of pride, nostalgia and even political debates, although this is most of the time well disguised in the form of cricket talk. One Delhi family had even to skip a wedding ceremony back at home so as to watch the entire match. They added that it would not have made them enjoy the event because the match was running in the background.
The fights intensify between them but the laughter creeps in. The one person speaks or mimes the commentator There is another uncle who tries to coach a team on the couch. These swings of emotions between anger and happiness is what unite the people not in a win but in a common thing.
What Stays After the Final Ball
When a game is over, people can leave the stadiums, but inside a desi home, the atmosphere remains. Major incidents are relived in people’s minds, disputes about who dropped what in a catch, and clips are already being uploaded around the internet before the player interviews even begin. Children practice the shots they won in the hallway. This game brought an old thought to the minds of the elders, who recount how such a game existed years ago.
The day goes beyond its score. It takes away companionship. Laughter. A combination of joy and sorrow. It does not matter whether the team wins or loses at the end of the match, but the memory of watching it with people will be left behind. This is why a desi live match is not only about the game, it turns out to be a feast, a ceremony, even a saga. It is just one game, but it lives in the hundreds of homes, just like any worthy holiday does.
