While working in media houses comes with its perks, there are disadvantages too. For example, you are supposed to expect calls 24x7.

My cellphone had trilled on April 10, 2015. @iSudatta's name flashed on the screen. I had probably "hello"d. Probably.
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"Richie Benaud is dead." Just like that.

She knew that I wanted to hang up. So she did.

I worked frantically for a few hours, from home, for speed was of priority.
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However, rarely have I worked with such single-minded fervour. I am almost intimidated of myself when I think of the frenzy of that morning.
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I went into in a trance so deep that emotions refused to bother me. I have a vague recollection of my maid showing up and leaving. It was one of those days when research and work made me oblivious.

In other words, I was in the 'zone'.
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Was it deliberate? Yes and no. I wanted to give Benaud my all. And perhaps, somewhere deeper, I wanted to shut out the fact that no one will say 'mwavellous' on air again.

Then I tried to catch an hour's sleep before leaving for work that afternoon. I took my glasses off.
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My teens and twenties. Winters. A blanket. The TV remote control. Seagulls. Bill Lawry. Ian Chappell. Tony Greig.

And, of course, chew chew chew. For chew.
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Memories of those early winter mornings when the alarm actually sounded welcome kept coming.

And my emotions flowed. I did that thing, the one that boys are not, not, not, definitely not supposed to do.
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Things have not really changed five years down the line.