Match nights at my place sound like a stadium. And yes, I've been to an actual stadium.
Dad owns the middle of the sofa, uncle takes the chair, the rest of us fight for floor space.
Whoever holds the remote controls the volume, which is always Dad, and nobody argues.
Dinner happens in the hall on plates so nobody misses an over.
The arguments start from ball one. Uncle swears the toss decides everything, Dad says only the openers matter.
My little cousin ignores both and screams his favourite player's name each time he's on screen.
Last Saturday it went to the final over and the whole street heard us when the last wicket fell.
Our neighbour knocked and I thought, here comes the noise complaint. He just wanted the score, his TV had died.
He stayed for the last two overs and ate half our biryani. Nobody minded.
I used to watch alone with headphones and thought it was better. It's not, it feels flat.
Mum keeps saying lower the volume after eleven and gets ignored every time. Last week she hid the remote.
We found it in the flour tin. Nobody will admit to putting it there.