Photos often trigger a release of memories and thoughts, a single image unleashing an unending series of words, fragments of experiences, times gone by, and all that good stuff.This photo was one of them: a boy in India giving a cricket ball a good, strong whack. I can't recall where I found it, but it represents something that is etched into my mind, that flows in my veins: childhood, playing in the park, India's obsession with cricket...how on every patch of land along the trainline from to Krishnagar, as the sun sets on a hot day, all the boys from the village gather with bat, ball, stumps, and energy, and it's suddenly the First Test, a One Day Match, an evening at Lord's cricket ground, a golden moment in childhood that will never be lost.
I remember in Australia, aged about 7, whacking the ball in our backyard cricket match and sending it through the window. The game ended, we were solemnly marched inside, and that was that. No punishment: it was an accident, after all, but it was sunset and nearly dinner time, just a quiet mother's voice, "go and wash your hands, now..." and poof, a memory was born....there's more like that, all awoken from their mind-slumber by this photo. I love it...
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