There is nothing a Bengali loves as much as a good afternoon nap. Shortly after lunch today, Sourav Ganguly found himself walking out to bat, rather than reclining on his favourite sofa with a paashbaalish for company, to catch a few winks. Opening the batting for India Seniors in the Challengers Trophy in Bangalore, he reached the middle to find there was no middle. It was all green, a pastoral paradise; the outfield had spots of brown, the pitch, very few. Ganguly located the stumps, stood opposite the umpire, and figured this was it. He took guard, and then gazed into the eyes of Ajit Agarkar, a mild mannered man when he plays under Ganguly, a ferocious ogre otherwise; especially on a pitch like this.

They used to say about Ganguly that he is uncomfortable against fast bowling on foreign turf; a vicious rumour, that: Ganguly is uncomfortable against fast bowling anywhere. Agarkar, who rarely bowls straight when Ganguly is his captain, is spot on with his length and line. The grass does the rest. Ganguly plays, misses, plays, misses; so many misses, it could be a bordello. Then, over ends, commercial begins.

Ah, commercial. Hrithik Roshan, Bollywood superstar and dancer extraordinaire, drives onto a stage with Sourav. Then, he dances. Women faint. Then, he asks Sourav to dance. Sourav shakes his head, then assents coyly. Aghast, women faint.

Put the left leg out… yeassss. Right hand thumps chest, boom, yeaaaaaasss. A hop-and-a-skip, a skip-and-a-hop, and zoop, zoop, zoop, go the raging hormones. Sourav looks embarrassed. He and Hrithik, Hrithik and he, writhe together for 72 frames. Then logo. This boy can dance.

Back to the dancing, sorry, cricket. Zaheer Khan comes in to bowl, and whaddya know, SS Das takes a single to give the strike to Ganguly. Take it, Dada, he seems to smile secretly. Ganguly, clean-shaven and cherubic, takes guard, then takes flight, as Zaheer makes him hop. Then play and miss. Then Mr Gordon, but you can call him flash.

Like a bad dream, the over passes. But after every bad dream, a nightmare. Agarkar bowls, Das gives away strike like handing out alms to a reluctant begger. Ganguly edges to Laxman at second slip. Laxman don't drop these, though he must have contemplated that option; an end to the entertainment? A shocking prospect.

Ganguly looks at the sky, and meanders back to the pavilion, to ponder on wasted afternoons and the like. A commercial comes on. The dance begins again.

Amit Varma is assistant editor, Wisden.com India.

© Wisden CricInfo Ltd