18 • the keepsake

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Kavya's POV

The next couple of days flew by within a blink of an eye. I naturally took time to adjust and get accustomed to the brand new atmosphere but I got familiar to it sooner than I had expected.

On that hazy Friday morning, I took a bus to my work place. The sounds I heard on my way were kind of an ASMR which I needed to calm the hell out of me. The rain beating on the roof like a soft drummer, the whispers of a few passengers, the sound of the bus door opening and closing at every stop and the stereo playing at the driver's seat; an old couple dancing under their umbrellas as the street performer played a tune on the pavement and the sight of narrow alleys and cute cafes - they all made a beautiful treat keeping me entertained throughout the 25 minutes journey to office.

This was something I would experience almost every working day now! I had already started liking my routine.

In a state of half organized clutter - mahogany desk with three drawers on the right hand side, swivel chair, a laptop, several stacks of papers and photographs, pens in a tin, a floor to ceiling bookshelf, a Celestron telescope, a small coffee machine and a glass full of water - my work space welcomed me with a warm embrace of familiarity.

I wrote my thesis, got quite unsatisfied with it, striked it off and began writing again.
I finished it in an hour.
My colleague, Joe, who was a Swedish intern few years younger than me, assisted in my work.

In the afternoon, we went outdoors together.
We took a tram from Bakers Street to Wellington Road and walked to the marvelous Lord's Cricket Ground - the heart & soul of cricket.

Joe had booked two tickets to visit the Lord's Museum for 2-odd hours.
Being a Swedish inhabitant new in London, he was curious to know about this world-famous sport.

We entered the magnificent museum which was simple yet so royal and vintage that I could have cried in amazement! We saw all the rooms and floors one after the other taking enough time to devour the pleasure of the iconic sight.

At the main building, we were shown the legendary Long Room, players' dressing rooms with the Honours Boards, their dining rooms - apart from the things we saw at the museum itself.
Inside the museum there were jerseys and shoes and balls framed on the tables and hung on walls stating they were of a huge historic importance.

There were a variety of lists carved on gold-plated frames on the second floor.

My eyes caught a very familiar name; right at the top - Virat Kohli, India.

An oblivious smile graced my lips and my heart pounded as if the man himself was somewhere around me. I stood there longer, trying to capture every detail of his name and records written after it. I was filled with a pride which was so sensationally bizarre! It was as if that honour and those records were mine; that's how dear they looked to me.

Joe and I then walked to the terrace where we were served with afternoon tea - something that would always remind me I am in Britain.

Later, we toured the rest of the stadium. There wasn't a match so we were allowed to walk onto the field.
There was some sort of a figure standing on a pedestal which was surrounded by red ribbons and a few photographers snapping it from every possible angle.

I walked towards them, trying to peek through the gaps between the small crowd.

Virat!

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