
Please watch the
Bhaiyya's Football slideshow!
By the rail lines I saw a new village appear. One day there was nothing, and another day a straw hut village was there.
I took a football to the village. As I walked in to the place, off the road to our Kamothe, of course I was an outsider and earned lots of funny and curious looks from the young girls carrying the jugs of water on their heads. They smiled at me when I smiled at them. Inside the village, a few women were sitting outside, and a young boy about 5 or 6 years old. I smiled at them too, and I kneeled down to speak to the boy.
"Meri naam Jon. Teri naam kya?" I asked his name, and he laughed. I handed the ball to him, and he kicked it to me. We kick it back and forth, and he was very shy. When it went past him, his mother and aunties kicked it back, laughing.
A few other kids come around, and the water-jug girls. An older boy comes carrying his fishing rod and he is excited to see the ball. He kicks it hard, over the huts, and his friend kicks it back. My little friend is left out as the older boys start to play a little bit rougher than he can handle, the girls and aunties in the shade all watching their friends show off.
"Bhaiyya!" Brother! I call my little friend over, and I put my hat on his head. The ball comes our way and I pass it to him.
"Hey! Captain Amar!" The older boy calls to him. My little friend, Amar, kicks it to him and the older boys include him, passing it to him and letting him run up and down the village with it. Now he is captain. I tell him this ball is for him, and we all play for a little while before I walk away, waving to my bhaiyya, little Amar who for the first time is called "Captain" by the older boys. I could not feel more joyful.