Death of Innocence

February, 2002. Class 10 board exams were just around the corner. As a kid who had to hold a cricket bat every evening to drain out his daily quota of sweat, these bloody exams were still a month away. Bokaro was a small place, comfortably shielded from the mall culture which was gripping the country those days. Gossips and occasional family re-unions were the only source of entertainment to the simpletons out there.

It was during those days that a relatively very close friend of my dad visited my place sometime in the evening. I had just come back from my daily routine of smashing the ball all around the street. With a cup of tea in his one hand, the bespectacled uncle asked "और क्या प्लान्स हैं exam के बाद "? Without a pause, I replied "जी अंकल, आजकल तो खेलना थोडा कम कर दिया है ...exam के बाद पीछे वाली गली में रहने वाली टीम से मैच रखा है!" Eyebrows were raised, and my dad pitched in to save the situation "अरे नहीं ..exam ख़त्म होते ही इसको coaching में डाल देंगे...आई आई टी के exam में ज्यादा समय थोड़ी न बचा है !" Probably, that was the day I ceased being a kid.

Hilarious, but true

The next two years were spent rigorously in making an engineer out of me. You name the course material, and I had that on my study table FIITJEE Rankers Study Material, Comprehensive Chemistry, HC Verma, Resnick Halliday, R D Sharma, S L Loney blah blah blah....every damn book you could ask for. People around me said, "अभी पढ़ाई कर लो...फिर आगे तो ऐश ही ऐश है ". Even "that" Ash went with that loser Junior Bachchan of all people.

It was just 9 years ago when evenings were spent bickering about whether somebody could bowl just after they had batted. Right? I finished Engineering where I did burn the midnight oil (sometimes) remembering the same line  "अभी पढ़ाई कर लो...फिर आगे तो ऐश ही ऐश है ". When I sit back and introspect, all I can realize is how the word "ऐश" has changed it's meaning all these years. From fierce cricket matches, to all night chatting on Gtalk, to weekend booze parties, surroundings changed, priorities changed. The childish enthusiasm and innocence gave way to inconsequential worries and tensions. Sitting in my balcony,I am wondering, how much would I pay, just to get those days back.

Thank You Team !

An unforgettable image !

The year was 1990...India were playing a one day international against Sri Lanka at Pune. A chubby 16 year old kid won the man of the match against the Lankans by scoring 53 and grabbing a couple of wickets. I was a 4 year old kid back then, unable to understand why my parents were so excited about a bloody cricket match, it was just a game...people won..people lost..why the fuss?

In about two years time, the understanding about the game had improved, the rules had been properly understood, the game had become interesting. As a kid I was watching India getting wallopped 4-0 in the test series against the Aussies and subsequently getting mauled in the World Cup. A little disappointed though, I still believed in this team and that 18 year old chap who had been the youngest to score a ton on Australian soil.

I saw them flounder at the Eden Gardens in 1996, I saw them failing to chase 271 at Chennai against the Pakistanis, I saw them unable to score 253 against the Zimbabweans at Leicester in 1999, I saw them getting bundled out for 125 against the Aussies at Centurion and most recently losing out against our neighbors in the 2007 edition of the World Cup. Each time, the pain was visible in his eyes, the passion never seemed to diminish, we would do it again, some other day, some other time.

While Mohammad Kaif’s home was being vandalized in 2003, I requested my father to get me a Team India T-shirt. I had to order this T-shirt online for you didn’t get Nike T-shirts in a small district like Bokaro. I was chided, but I didn’t care, for I seriously believed in this team. From Harare to Jo’burg, I cheered for the team by wearing the Team India T-shirt on every match day, a ritual I repeated again in 2011. The disappointment of a mistimed pull against the “Pigeon” resonated in my heart with each passing day. Every day I used to defend him in countless meaningless discussions where people dug out stats to prove how a certain “Punter” was a much accomplished batsman than our very own “Superman” from Mumbai. Each time, I felt a little tinge of sadness for the man who had dedicated almost his entire youth for the betterment of Indian Cricket, and yet we were stupid enough to raise fingers at him, for failing to fulfill our ever growing demands and expectations.

Tonight, I saw him leap in happiness, I saw his team mates showering praises on him about carrying the burden of 1.2 billion individuals over the past 21 years. If Newton is to be believed, then the weights of those expectations have been equalized by an upward force of triumph. More importantly, I saw tears, probably highlighting the point that he is still a mortal, in spite of being a Demi-God for millions across the planet. From the core of my heart, I just want to say, Thank You Sachin, for inspiring us all throughout these years, for it has been a privilege and honor to see you play.

While the euphoria and celebrations continue across every state of this great country, let’s not forget the contribution of the entire team, for realizing the dream of a nation.Thank you Viru and Gauti for the fearless attitude that you have brought in this side since your respective debuts, Thank you Yuvifor winning us the cup with your magical bowling and amazing batting, Thank you Raina and Virat for the amazing fielding displays, Thank you Mahi for making me scream “Jai Jharkhand” every time you materialized a fabulous stumping, Thank you Bhajji for the breakthroughs in the middle overs, Thank you Zak for leading the rest of the bowling unit like a pack of hungry wolves, ready to devour anything that came in their way. Last and certainly not the least, let me take the honor of thankingGary Kirsten, Dada, John Wright, The Wall, Jumbo and the Very Very Special for taking us at the helm of both the ODI and Test Rankings. And on a special note, Gary, we will miss you!

Well played team. We are with you, during both the good and the bad times, for you have given us glorious moments to cherish throughout our lives. It’s been an absolute pleasure to “bleed blue” all these years. You guys made us proud today!

Thank You!

An average Indian Cricket Fan!

बस एक बार वापस लौटने का मन करता है...

Sir Arthur C. Clarke, do you know how I really miss you right now. If only your idea of time travel had been materialized, I would have probably paid anything and almost everything to time travel back to June 2006. Five years have passed since then, physical distances have increased gigantically, from a couple of hundred meters to over a thousand miles, local calls have been replaced by STD calls. Yet the story remains the same. The hearts beat at the same frequency, the love blossoms as ever and the six letter word F.R.I.E.N.D.S. seems more precious than the gold stored at Fort Knox.

Life was so simple back then. Life was actually beautiful and carefree (of course without the alcohol and marijuana). All you cared was whether you would be reaching KNGH before 8.30 pm or whether even a single digit score in DE paper would get you a C grade. I miss those times when a two word SMS “Kahan ho?” used to bring a smile on my face. Yes, the people I loved and the people who loved me had just bunked their classes, waiting for me at our usual hangout place, The Nesci. There’s no way I was going to disappoint them. Damn, you GPA’s and gold medals, I wasn’t attending the remaining three lectures for there was and probably there is no one more precious than those “wild maniacs”.

Aata Maggi for a distinguished few, normal Maggi for the others were the staple diet. Lemon iced teas had replaced water/cold drinks as the official drink of the group and Nestle was probably the official sponsor. Sagar Ratna was common mess where the menu for one of the distinguished member was fixed, “Onion Rava Masala Dosa”. For the rest, the menu revolved around Veg Schzwan Noodles, Panner Tikki, Manchurian, Baby Corn, Varieties of Dosa, Dum Aaloo Kashmiri, Naan, Kulcha etc etc. We loved spilling stuff, someone was actually an expert in this field, we loved fighting for those green and red chutneys, we loved making noise, a lot of it actually, without caring for the stares and the occasional taunts from others sharing the space with us. In short, we loved everything about everything stupid we did and without caring a dime about what the world thought about us.

Birthdays were celebrated with more fervor and enthusiasm than the Republic and Independence Day celebrations of this great country. Rarely, you would see a group of people jumping and shouting around the birthday boy/girl. With your every move being scrutinized, you really felt like a celebrity on your special day just because of these people. Not a single day was spent without a ping on Google Talk or a short message on the cell phone. The group met almost everyday, barring the days when someone would have oiled their hair. Even during exams, everybody found a way for a regular meeting at the Nesci. After crying incessantly “Iss baar to main pakka fail ho jaaoongi”, you probably needed your group to provide the necessary words of confidence.

I just had a lousy birthday four days back. At 12 midnight, I was busy screwing around on some stupid excel sheets and powerpoint presentations. There were no cakes, no candles, none of the idiots jumping around me, no GPL’s and no one to smother a perfectly baked Black Forest cake on my face. In the eerie silence of the office, I just said “Happy Birthday” to myself remembering the idiots who made it special every year.

The railway crossing, the rigid guards, the stupid institute rules, the guitar jamming sessions at the Narayani, Uptron chauraha, the reunion outside the Patel Hostel on the pretext of having sugarcane juice and most importantly those times spent with you all can never be erased from the heart. Love you all.

बस एक बार ...बस एक बार वापस लौटने का मन करता है...