Fake the Real

“Never in my cricketing viewership career, did I see Gavaskar shouting , swinging , and jumping in his seat as if his son had scored a double century at Lords. Neither should ever happen but when at least one does, it feels awkward” was quoted by a person whose identity surfaces as you cruise along.

The IPL first edition took off with much aplomb and curiosity from all wakes of mankind, general public, cricket lovers, movie circles, businessmen, betters and more importantly the so called” desi-local” cricketers who always dreamt of playing for the country. Now that, at least they get to play alongside and against greats. And guess what, even players without bank account have opened theirs. Franchises have toiled their minds to fork out astronomical figures to buy the playing puppets. The concept of cheer leaders was bought from other sports. Will these cheerleaders add more to the already existing euphoria and fanaticism of the cricket mad countries? I doubt. The league set in India-the temple for cricket was worshiped day and night by all , from chaiwallas to Vijay Malya’s. Great players, Unknown talents, huge hits, and flops (we don’t need an adjective for this, do we?) marked the IPL’s first edition .Someone facetiously said that the Deccan chargers are good only on paper-bcoz they are owned by Deccan Chronicle. What an irony. And finally emerges an unexpected winner, an anticlimax. A perfect script, plot well executed and a commercially hit movie.

Can the directors and producers with a slightly different cast make a good melodrama this time around and successfully market it to the world? The only big difference, the location. South Africa is definitely not India. Thanks to the nefarious effect of terrorism and the weighty reasons of Loksabha elections. Just the fact that the Indian product is being outsourced made many say” Nahh”. Their outset thought “It’s going to be boring”. The huge sums, “who got whom” facts, star power gained insipid response this time. Alas! The game is important though, thought Modi. I bet my world; a shivering thought “Can IPL2 be bigger than last year?” would have passed his mind. Then with the entire bad omen around it he would have also thought “Let’s fake it to be bigger than last year-lol”.

Now the plot. With South Africa being a lukewarm venue (when compared to India), every other bit has to be done to woo more spectators and TV audience. So unusually eerie stuff surfaces, like SRK and lordie attending an idiot box program to select the prospective cheerleaders. Guys! Get your team right first! Without winning matches you sure will have ample people to dance to the crowds. Who has stumbled upon the idea to pick a face from the crowd to act in a Bollywood movie, as if we have dearth of people trying to make it to the celluloid.

The strategic time out after 10 over’s!!!!!???. Dude, IPL is meant to have bang-bang kind of games, not mindless money minting innovations that take away the essence of the game. Had Modi been candidly patriotic towards cricket, 71/2 min breaks would have been one among many ideas.

Commentators might never have wondered that their jobs include depicting an F1 race. Taking off from nothing. Is it imposed on them, to vociferate and create a frenzy atmosphere to even the slightest happening on the field? Are they made to leave behind good cricketing language to make a mockery of words to hype the situation? Yes they are made to do the exaggerations. If a pull from Asnodkar is conferred with all the superlative adjectives, what would you say to a cover drive from Sachin Tendulkar? The TV audience will cease enjoying the acts of greats.
How hard would it have been for well settled, placid commentators like Gavaskar, Arun lal, Ian bishop and many other manikins to counterfeit?

To add to the chaos, a fake IPL player dawns claiming to be a member of KKR.The maniac he is, the team management takes him seriously to ban players and staff from accessing laptops. Should he be a real member as he affirms, it’s better off if he concentrates on his game. Otherwise, this writer should make a choice in life to write about socially challenged issues.

Now John “Bokanan” as referred by the fake IPL player comes up with the “first time ever” idea of four captains. Rightly ridiculed, it serves no purpose, except that players never know who their leader is. Ajantha Mendis might still be pondering if the choice of him bowling the “Super” over was a combined or divided decision. On the other hand Kamran khan is already blooming in confidence before he takes his strides to bowl the first ball to Galye.Take a cue from Shane, Mr. John. If not all, most teams have differences. Its how you pack off the differences into a bag and go hiking to reach the heights that matters.

The game itself if far greater than any individual. Moments should surface by themselves and not be created.

You Deserve to Read!

The Iota of doubts we carry within ourselves makes us vulnerable to the society.But why do we need to give a chance to the society which itself is vulnerable to petty matters of Religion, Cast, Region, Marriage, Relations, Sports, Films, Money."Is it just me thinking of so many possiblities" .Am I living in a world with infinite potential disaters...Can I trust anybody???

Having pondered over these matter's, this person's delightful, dainty, charming face suddenly flashes to me like a meteor whizzing by , while I lay on those hand-woven beds in the muddy courtyard of my baby yet beautiful home with the sweet smell of mud from the recent rain, with a breeze making me feel like a prince, with a mind free of any chores, responsiblities and cravings..Wait , I have exceptions for cravings .Yes- Mom's curry , festive food, the challenging yet agreeable pleasant early rise on a festive day, the shower , the fragnance of Incent sticks, the soothing chants of the voice on tape which is still fresh in my mind, the prolonged devotion towards the holy one, the coma which hits us after the treat offered to the belly pushing us into hibernation in a world far from the burden of responsiblities, studies, School..Ya the School , a place we can never forget. Always brimming with boisterous friends, who as plain hearted as the snow on Himalayas, would turns into an avalanche at the slightest thought of touch , teachers whom we want to meet even when our little devils start to go to school, the PT drill where even a shot at the football brings immense hope and pleasure with lots of discussions to take home. Homeeeee...is wht I am missing a lot..Is that why I started writing this or may be something else...I don't know yet, Im lost in the pleasurable conversation with my soul in a place thrown away geographically from Home..In a place which doesnt give the luxury our half broken chairs gave at home...In a place where french fries do not appease the stomach as pickle and curry does, In a place where illness is shyed away unlike home where its embraced, In a place where ur alone even with a clutter of white skins floating around you, In a where your bewildered to reach an indisputable destination, In a place where you retreat to bed with no-one to share your day with!!!!!!!!

Yaaaaa..Now I remember why I started writing this .The person that flashed before me was Mom.......Yes, the person whom I can reckon on is indeed Mom.Mom and only Mom.