News DeskĀ
Every single day, my brothers would tug me along to play cricket with them. The welcome mat transformed into our makeshift wicket, and wielding the Britannia bat felt like owning a prized possession.
The anticipation of the Cosco ball’s bounce was palpable, each check crucial.
We’d venture onto different pitches daily, navigating the front and backyards of various houses, each with its own unique set of rules.
Reliving those moments on screen was a flood of nostalgia, a sensation indescribable. It was the ultimate gift, one that only he could bestow upon me.