Is it a World Cup? Or a bad dream?

The questions are asked; who is giving the answers by the way??


Between the Lies by Bobilli Vijay Kumar

How can it just be a game when a nation plunges into collective gloom? How can we convince ourselves it doesn't hurt when anguished people hit the streets? How can we say it was just another match when grown-up men cry, even die, at the altar of defeat?

How can we drive some sense into those impassioned fans? How can we tell them there is so much more beyond cricket? Indeed, how can we get them to invest even half of this energy into life's real fights? For food? Education? Roads? Better leaders? Even sanity?

How can we make all those fat and smug officials accept responsibility for this disaster? How can we propel them into action, into seeing that this could well be their cricket's apocalypso? Or better still, how can we throw them out of their chairs?

When will those guys in blue realize it is not enough to look contrite after the match? When will they see it is only those 100 overs in the middle that really count? When will they learn you can win matches even after having a bad first session?

Will they ever show some gumption, some fight on the field? Will they ever put their limbs on the line, if not lay down their lives for a match? Will they ever start playing as a team, rather than like a bunch of selfish individuals?

Will the big guns actually perform when it matters? Will at least one of them stand up and make a match of it when the entire country is watching them? Indeed, when will they pack up their bags and go home? When will they let a new and vibrant India emerge out of this chaos?

Why should we expect them to discharge our aspirations and unfulfilled dreams? Why should we blame them if our expectations are so unreal? Why should they bear the brunt of our anger if we don't really understand the game?

How can we hurt their families if we love them so much? How can we throw stones at their homes if we love the game so much? How can we be so ashamed of them if the other team is better-prepared, more equipped to win?

When will we start the process of overhauling the system? When will our kids get state-of-the-art stadiums, better facilities, equal opportunities? When will we have a selection process that is fair, unbiased and comprehensive?

How could this happen? How could we lose to a team like Bangladesh? How could we get out of the tournament even before it has already started? Is it really the World Cup? Or is this all a bad dream?

Cutting the Caribbean crap...

It is the evening of 24th and I am back to the trivial way of penning down my thoughts, trying to sort out my feelings (of anger, distaste, frustration, disappointment, defeated expectations and what not…) An attempt to calm down this emotional turbulence instigated by India’s loss to Sri Lanka last night. The all important impetus provided by this feeling of being the “lukhi”-est and “vaili”-est person alive in the world as of now.

Cricket was always one of those touchy issues with me besides, of course, Abhishek Bachchan and Backstreet Boys. I have been an impulsive, die-hard cricket fanatic ever since. I remember dad and his friends teasing me every time we would meet over dinner or whatever, talking about how every game that India lost, was fixed. They were always conscious of the crap they would talk and even regard it as “absolute rubbish” but not before they would have laughed their heads off seeing me literally at war with myself. Trying not to get all worked up and lose my…well, cool. Now, that it’s more of a routine, I am sure it is done only to “enjoy” those signs of sheer helplessness on my face, which never seems to fail to make their day…This time was no different when we went to Bhargava uncle’s place. Ditto when Praveen uncle came over (Out of the 2 hours that he was here, he spent 40-odd minutes, trying to make me talk about how Dravid had fixed the match and got Yuvraj out deliberately. Rubbish! I know it was all done to aggravate me and he succeeded in doing just that, as always.(hmphhh…)

Coming back to the point, we know India is virtually out of the world cup. The fact has still not dawned in its entirety but I am trying to come to terms with reality. With more than a month of action left in the world cup, I wonder how it’s gonna be like sans India. “CRICKET WORLD CUP” suddenly sounds not even half as exciting and happening.

While the newspapers and news channels cant get enough of this blame game and Dravid-Chapell are refraining from commenting as this is an “emotional moment” and they can be “misconstrued”; I cant help wondering if we were really lame enough not to see it coming on the first place or we knowingly turned a blind eye to it, thinking it was the best we could do anyways.

I think being one of those “ever hopeful” lot, we were shying away from the truth. And I can bet my life on it, that many of us have secretly pinned up hopes to the Bangladesh-Bermuda match (though we won’t apparently want our team to be there because of the mercy of Bermuda) and are hoping and praying for India to be in the Super 8. No Indian is supporting B’desh tonight; we don’t really make great neighbors when it comes to cricket. I don’t know if I should be happy about this never-say-die attitude or amazed at the downright irrationality that creeps in more often than not. An even more amusing part is that not only we remain ever hopeful ourselves but even spread it around us. Take this, its not exactly spreading hope but borders on that—
I had stopped watching the Bangladesh-India match after India had had its say with the bad. 191-all out. Against Bangladesh. Hardly what I had expected even after considering all that could have possibly gone wrong. (As it turned out, nothing went right for us.) 5 overs or so into the Bangladesh innings I was told “Don’t be silly, go watch the match.” Aaaargh..to make things worse, I was asked to do that not by some die-hard Indian cricket fan, for whom the game is wide open till the last ball is bowled or the last wicket has fallen but by this, well, “expert”, who understands the intricacies of the game and can really make you think. Anyways, I went on to see the whole damned match.(I am very easily convinced, you see..*wink..)

Now cut to this—

During our match with Sri Lanka, 4 of us had been SMSing through the night. (Kritika, Shruti, Srishti and me) and yeah, I had the intermittent “expert opinion” coming in too..lol.So, in all, the 5 people messaging, represented 5 different categories of “game lovers”. Srishti cannot be called a cricket enthusiast though. She was messaging only because she had promised to stay up till me and Shruti dozed off. She represents the people who do not breathe and live cricket. They are “the impassibles”. Have got their heads in the right place so give a damn to how boys in blue play…Shruti represented the majority of people I know. Interested, but just cant get enough of criticizing the team.(Like my dad!) She hardly saw the match…was reading this book titled “7 habits of highly effective teens” (and I know I’ll be kicked for writing this…) I was supposed to keep her updated with the match. Her messages went like “lol. I told u we gonna lose.dese guys noe ntn at ol.)

Since I am not the ever hopeful types, Kritika happily filled in…her messages went like “We can still win it, bas Dravid out na ho” (he got out within the next 5 balls…lol)and also that “keep praying, kuch to hoga”. She represented people with never ending hope. But even she lost hope after Yuvraj got out and Dhoni went for a duck. “What’s wrong with Dhoni?” She asked. Trust me when I say, I laughed at this message for at least 3 full minutes…I mean expecting Dhoni to fire off, when Murali is at his best is too far fetched considering his recent knocks against Bangladesh and Bermuda (0 and 29). I just replied “Temme wots wrong wid oder 10 n I’ll tell ya wots wrong wid him…”

Anyways, the other minority of “game lovers in the real sense” was represented by “the expert”. They love, basically, the game. “I am not happy that India lost but I wont say that I am sad. They played badly…bloody even lost to Bangladesh, which was supposed to be a touch and go match.” (oooh…impressive!!) Their messages mean hard core business, may be because they know clearly what they mean and can get it across to the other person in less than a few words. Their messages are like “60-40 Lanka”. As simple and clear as that. Such "fans" are rare.(not exactly fans but i dunno what else to write.) I have known just two. These people, I think, constitute the “cricket intelligentsia” and heavily influence the way “my typa fans” think. Now that we have finally come to it, lemme elaborate on fans like me, who constitute the majority of Indian population(at least i think so...) So, gear up to know more about fans like me (*blushing)-

When they are into it, they are “HEAVILY” into it. Will go on to abuse and curse even the driver of the team bus (for the damned bus broke down and team missed out on one precious hour of practice that could have made a world of difference!!!) when into the groove. We are the balanced (hehee…sometimes..) but impulsive lot. We get all worked up during the match but eventually cool down too and yeah, we hardly ever talk sense! I wanted all 11 to retire from cricket last night. Tonight, however, I won’t want even a single guy to chicken out (like Inzamam) but face the well deserved ire of the last category of fans, which fortunately was not represented by any of us.

They are the ones, who elevate these cricketers to their haloed status in a match or two and then go on to torch their effigies, burn their posters, attack their houses and cars during their lean patch before returning their demi-God status, only to snatch it away-unceremoniously-after their next duck. They make cricket what it is in India. They make life hell for people like Bob Woolmer. They make a Balaji and a Nehra. They make and break the poster boys of Indian cricket. They, are what cricket in the sub continent is all about. You bet.

The Second Life...

I wonder if it’s the same way with everyone, believe me I really want to know. Does it ever happen that sometimes while you are doing something your mind wanders?? You think about nice things…some of your life’s most beautiful and treasured moments…things that cheer you up instantly and put a biiig smile on your face. Its not that you want to think about it or something, but it just happens, unconsciously. Without you even realizing, you are in this “other” world...surrounded by people you love and care about; people who have touched your lives in one way or the other; people who have made a difference in your lives.

It happens too frequently with me and it feels almost real for a second or two. I practically relive some of the best moments of my life. And I am not complaining…even if that makes me a dreamer; a lesser sane individual. After all, what more can I ask for. This habit of switching over to this “dream world” and cutting connections with the real world (which gets really appalling and depressing at times) for some time, keeps me going in life. It helps me get over those pesky pestering problems.(like India losing out to Bangladesh! Haha…these are my type of well..“problems”.)It reminds me that days were bright not very long ago…and they are going to be brighter, sooner than I think.

I would suddenly go on thinking about people (read friends and cousins-my generation, that is; uncles and aunties don’t real excite me…) while doing absolutely anything and everything-ranging from eating, driving, reading, listening to music and even talking! (so you know why I get “lost” in the middle of a conversation…) I would be reminded of some of their witty quips or unhackneyed remarks or “intelligent” (?) comments (okay, this one is rare..hehee-I AM KIDDING! dont make plans to beat me up) or just them and that would put an ear to ear smile on my face. Some may take it as a sign of madness but I really don’t care.

It has been like this ever since but more recently I don’t think as much about “real” people as I do about “virtual” ones…That’s, partly because I know them less so they are like this little mystery I try to unravel…trying to find meanings in whatever they do. And it’s also because I spend a lot of time online these days (hmmm…). And yeah...after lurking around online for like 6 odd years, i have found people I can call my “friends”. The real people will get their share of time and attention as soon as I get back to life as I know it.. Enough of idling away the whole day…doing nothing other than surfing online and reading HP fan fiction and to kill a mocking bird. I always wanted to do all this…with no botheration of studying and “socializing” but I guess I have done enough of it in the last 6 days…and if this continues..I am gonna be bored to death. And no exaggeration at that.

Whatever...

They would say I am a great listener…an even better advisor. But they, who cannot stop calling themselves “close to me”, have always failed miserably in noticing those subtle signs of revulsion I have on my otherwise “expressionless, but smiling” face, whenever the topic cropped up from nowhere. This is one topic I always believed was unworthy of my thinking time…I still think so. But the recent developments in my life (or rather in my friend’s and my cousin’s life) have prompted me to spend two of my prime time thinking hours in formulating THIS.

They would always ask me why am I lke this? Why is it that I have so many boys as friends but that one "special one" is missing? Have I not found anyone yet? Have I had some bad experiences? I would always reply with just a smile…not saying nothing. Let me reply to all that today…because I think I finally know why "I am what I am".

No, I have not had any bitter experiences. I have many friends who are guys because I think they are some of the nicest people I have ever met. I don’t see the gender of the person before making friends, but the fact remains…I don’t make friends easily-even with girls. I have not found the right one because I am NOT on a lookout for him. I don’t have a special friend because I don’t need one. Why? Because I have more important things (like my career, family, friends etc.) to attend to, rather than being on his beck and call 24X7, on phone and in person. I cannot take all that roosna-manana and other shitty cheesy stuff, which I see my friends and cousins going through too often to be true.

On the closing note…I think it is just not the age to get into a relationship because I learn and change myself with every small and big experience in life. To me, they all seem to be for the better; others may not necessarily think so. So when I won’t even be the same person one month down the line, how can I expect people’s love for me to be the same? And since I am not a flirt, I know too well that it is not me to go hunting “for the special one”, at least not until I become what I want to become in life… Moreover, I won't get into a relationship just for the heck of it or to flaunt it, I have to connect, till then I am fancy free and single; with no plans to mingle.

Okay, so that’s about it. Now if that was a “What?” or a “Wow!” or downright “Wacky”, its on you to decide...

The Zahir...

An excerpt from ‘The Zahir’ …by Paulo Coelho..

While I was fighting, I heard other people speak in the name of freedom, and the more they defended this unique right, the more enslaved they seem to be to their parent’s wishes, to a marriage in which they had promised to stay with the other person ‘for the rest of their lives’, to the bathroom scales, to their diet, to half-finished projects, to lovers to whom they were incapable of saying “no” or “It’s over”, to weekends when they were obliged to have lunch with people they did not even like. Slaves to luxury, to the appearance of luxury, to the appearance of appearance of luxury. Slaves to a life they had not chosen, but which they had to live because someone had managed to convince them that it was all for the best. And so their identical days and nights passed, days and nights in which adventure was just a word in the book or an image on the television that was always on, and whenever a door opened, they would say:

“I’m not interested. I’m not in the mood.”

How could they possibly know if they were in the mood or not if they had never tried? But there was no point in asking; the truth was they were afraid of any change that would upset the world they had grown used to.

The Debut...

“SORRY!!”

BEING grossly clueless as to what a blog is all about and how one goes about writing it, I find it most appropriate to start with an apology (please don’t mistake with a disclaimer) for all the mistakes I am likely to commit, at least in the first 1000 blogs(!)

I am extremely sorry for all the faux pas, whether grammatical, mechanical (typing), factual or philosophical…

Being a birdbrain and mistress of vocabulary that can make a spider look leviathan, I doubt if I’ll be able to come up to the standards of an average blogger but I’ll try my best to not top the list of losers!!

The sole idea behind making this account is to try and get things right in my head, to dispel the darkness of discrepancies in my line of thought, to talk about things that interest and trouble me as a Gemini, a teenager, a daughter, a sister, a friend.

Let me also add that as of now, this whole thing is going to be about my thoughts on everything (which can get really freaky) --because I really lack the acumen indispensable for commenting on the happenings concerning the country and the world at large--so don’t expect an interesting reading if you not into knowing what a numbhead (that’s me!) thinks of whatever.