Making A Match Of It

"It's the last over, with five runs needed to win."

Six balls to be bowled. 5 runs to get. The match, the tournament -- the prestigious trophy -- could go either team's way. The only thing was, the batting team were nine wickets down. They couldn't afford another man getting out.

A cliff-hanger if ever there was one.

The bowler's run-up. Ten thousand spectators drawing in their breath.

Ball bowled. Played defensively. "Without troubling the scorers."

Five balls to go. Five runs to get.

Watching 'live' on TV, Parveen held up a hand with five fingers splayed. This magic number was her future. She kissed each finger, closed her eyes and uttered a brief prayer.

According to her, her boyfriend had already proved himself, but her father thought otherwise. Getting his personal half-century wasn't enough, he had to bring the trophy home to received a parental blessing on their union.

The bowler was running up again. She closed her eyes. She couldn't bear this.

"And they've crossed over for one and are coming back for the second!"

He was still on strike. Four balls, three runs to get.

She forced herself to watch as the bowler ran up. Her man looked so strong as he lashed out at the ball -- but he had mis-timed it and it was in the air, enroute to the open palm of mid-on, who touched it, fumbled, and dropped the catch.

Half the crowd breathed a sigh of relief. Half the crowd breathed a sigh of disappointment. Parveen was curled on the sofa, clutching her knees to her chest.

How composed her man was! Not a sign of the nerves his near-escape must've caused.

He timed the next one sweetly. The ball sailed across the boundary. The whole crowd applauded. They'd got their money's worth. Parveen was sobbing into her knees, thanking God.

He was, of course, Man-of-the-match. There was no other contender. Parveen was smiling now. She smiled even more broadly when he received the trophy.

Then, she paused. He was handing the trophy over to a team-mate and taking the mic.

"I need to ask for a bigger trophy," he announced.

He pulled something from his pocket. A small jewel box. He opened it and extracted -- the most exquisite engagement ring. The camera closed in on it. The crowd could be heard cheering.

"Parveen, will you be my trophy forever?"