Hot afternoon sun breaking through the haze, humidity indulging itself after the day’s before torrential monsoon turning amphitheatre to swimming hole. A cooling place for carefree boys to laugh and splash with abandon. Not to worry the rubbish now floating or the garbage beneath, the sludge and the grime stirred to a gravy. Happy at the relief, the respite, the new pool to enjoy, no guards or police to wrangle them out, no rules to bar entry, no admission to find. Free.
Around the pool in Astha Kunj park, a hundred cricket matches played out, piles of bricks for stumps, calls of catch and howls of howzat fill the air. Any piece of ground worthy of a match even if across another game, a jumble of fielders from matches intermingling among trees and passers-by. Atop the hill, the pinnacle of the rocky rise forming the park, the Iskon temple umpires over the games to the chant of Hare Krishna. Along the outfield, concrete rail of a humming metro line, the boundary. Sport in the park on a Sunday in Delhi.