He was under an immense amount of stress, and it took a toll on his mental well-being. The stress was so overwhelming that it eventually led to a stroke—a blood clot formed in his brain. This devastating event unfolded in the early hours of the morning, around 2:30 or 3. None of us had any inkling of what was happening as we slept, and by the time we woke up, he was already gone. I vividly recall the heart-wrenching moment when I watched him take his final breath right before my eyes.
The source of his stress was his online share trading, a venture that had gained significant prominence in 2006. Unfortunately, his online share trading account had suddenly crashed due to a single disastrous transaction, causing all the gains he had amassed to plummet. This financial setback weighed heavily on him, exacerbating his mental anguish and ultimately resulting in the stroke.
I remember the day when I received the news. I had just returned from practice and found my cousin’s sister at home. When I inquired about the whereabouts of my family, she casually mentioned that they were out for a routine checkup. Curiosity piqued, I insisted on knowing where they were, and she reluctantly divulged the location. We rushed there together and were confronted with a sight I had never imagined. The stroke had left him in a condition I had never seen before. His ability to react and communicate had been severely impaired.
He was promptly taken into the operating theater, marking the beginning of a trying and uncertain period. Following the surgery, he returned home but had to undergo extensive rehabilitation. His left side was paralyzed, and even his vision on the left side was compromised. After a couple of weeks of intensive rehabilitation, he suffered a cardiac arrest.
I was in the middle of a cricket game when the dreadful news arrived. The clock read 2:30 or 3 in the morning when we all abruptly awoke, still grappling with disbelief. Desperate attempts were made to resuscitate him, but they were futile. In a state of shock, I tried to perform chest compressions, but it was too late. We sought help from nearby doctors, but at that early hour, none responded. Frantically, we rushed him to the hospital, where every available medical intervention was attempted, including electric shocks, but to no avail. He couldn’t recover.
The devastating loss left my sister, my brother, and my mother shattered, and their tears flowed freely. Strangely, I couldn’t cry. Emotions eluded me, and I felt a numbing emptiness. I was a blank slate, unable to comprehend the magnitude of the tragedy. The next morning, I mustered the strength to call my coach and inform him of the tragedy. He offered me a choice, asking what I wanted to do. Without hesitation, I declared my intention to play in the cricket match.
Leaving a cricket match was simply inconceivable, regardless of life’s adversities. I couldn’t fathom any other option. I left home, still devoid of emotion, and picked up a friend along the way. I shared the grim news with him, but he initially thought I was joking. We arrived at the stadium, and in the change room, I disclosed the heartbreaking truth to my teammates. It was then that the dam burst, and my pent-up emotions surged forth.
Oddly, my grief was compounded by a seemingly trivial incident in the game. I was upset because, as an umpire, I had made an incorrect decision, giving myself out when I wasn’t truly out. More significantly, I lamented not being able to stay until the end to help my team secure victory.
Looking back, that day marked a turning point in my life. I returned from the game, only to participate in the cremation and the ensuing rituals. I distinctly recall confiding in my brother, pledging that I would play cricket at the highest level for my country. From that moment forward, nothing else held the same significance in my life. It was not only my own dream but also my father’s vision, a dream he held dearly. Cricket became my top priority, and everything else took a back seat.