A dream which ended to be one...

It all started with the 1996 world cup. I was in class VIII. Daily when I walked into the class, I could hear some of the boys loudly discussing about how the previous day’s match went on and when some girl used to query them on how Sachin got out etc they will immediately grab the opportunity (which they were eventually waiting for) to sit down and explain the ball and thus develop the conversation. I used to heave a sigh, sit quietly and watch the conversation grow further onto something else other than cricket until thankfully some teacher interrupted to take class. I had no chance to participate in those kind of conversations because I never watched cricket...... I was being left out of conversation with girls and thus being deprived the opportunity of frying kadala with them......... POOR ME, WHAT A TRAGEDY AT SUCH YOUNG AGE!!! That was the day I decided that I should also start watching cricket (what a source of inspiration!!!! yuck, shameless fellow......... I can hear you guys telling). So I compulsorily sat through some of the matches which India played so that next day I would proudly walk my way into the class (as if a man well prepared for a CAT exam), hoping that some topic about the world cup arises wherein I can pitch-in with my comments on the match (idhellaam oru pozhappaa nu dhaanae kekkareeenga. What to do, so much of hardwork put in, to get to talk to girls). The homework however was tedious. Watching something which doesn’t interest you, that too for hours together was difficult. I used to wonder how people have the patience to sit 8 long hours to watch a dull drabbing game. But at no cost did I want to lose out my girl(s) to the other guy just for the reason of not knowing the proceedings of the previous days match. So the fear of losing the 'competitive edge' (kaaaari thuppanumnu thonumae !!!) kept me stick to my decision. As the saying goes "For every successful man, there is a woman behind". Success or not, but for me taking to watch cricket, there were quite a number of girls behind the decision :-)

As the World cup entered its knock-out phase, gradually, without my knowledge I started liking the intensity, the suspense, the entertainment and aura of the game. Thanks to those good looking girls in my class and of course to my unflinching flirting attitude, I got introduced to a wonderful sport. Who can ever forget the verbal duel between Prasad and Aaamir Sohail in the quarterfinal…and subsequently the stumps getting shattered. It will be frozen in every keen follower of Indian cricket and am no exception. I started liking the game so much that I joined Vinod Kambli in shedding tears, when India lost out by D/L method in the called-off semi-final in Calcuttta. That was when I took to playing the game. Me along with my friends used to cycle kilometers away from our home, not bothering the scorching autumn sun, to enjoy a game of cricket. Not everyone had the cushion to own a cycle. So most occasions it was either a triples or doubles in my atlas cycle and often the scapegoat was me who had to pedal. The 50 paisa Pepsi cola or the semiya kucchi ice at the end of a scorching day of cricket will be amirtham to us. A person carrying a two rupee note in his pocket was considered rich. Not a single vacant plot in our locality was spared. Wherever we found space enough to plant the stumps (in the absence of stumps, the front or back wheel of the cycle served the purpose) and have few yards to serve as the pitch, we were all there, like vultures eyeing its prey.

It was in 10th standard holidays that me and my friend decided to give it a shot in taking the game seriously. We enrolled ourselves into a renowned cricket academy. Along with cricket we learnt so many things, got introduced to many new friends. It was a dream that we were in pursuit of and it ended to be one. Those were good old days, where nothing mattered other than what happened on the field. Each and every time I went onto bat, with my coach watching me, I felt like a public exam. So desperate to pass, so desperate to somehow make it big. To cheer a five wicket haul of my childhood friend from the gallery and carrying drinks to him, to celebrate a towering six of my gentle-giant friend, which soared out of the ground, to have played along and pursued our passion and dream along with my childhood friend, the foot-board travel in D70 bus, with room enough only for one leg and the space meant for the other leg occupied by our bulky kit bags, the early morning jogs on the road all the way from vadapalani to kasi theatre, the residential camp at the outskirts of Chennai, the tiring fitness classes, the practice with the bowling machines, the hit on the abdomen by one of its fierce incoming delivery, the unforgettable tight finishes in the league games, the crucial drop catches that cost the match, the corridor practice at my home, the scoldings from the apartment inmates, breaking of the window panes, countless hours of nets session……… everything remains fresh in my mind. Our pursuit of the dream had all the ingredients...... happiness, sorrow, irritation, frustration, anxiety, failure, excitement, adrenaline rush.... Although, the script could have been better.

It all boiled down to one fateful day when me and my friend decided (or rather realised) that we were going nowhere near the destination which we aspired to and age was fast catching up and along with it came the responsibility to be shouldered back home. We wouldn't call it a painful decision because we knew our priorities and we knew that the journey was still too long and far for us to continue with our pursuit. However, to look back at those days and finding ourselves in ground reality where, here am sitting in front of a monitor in office and staring at it, whereas I should have been holding a bat and be ready to face the next ball and my friend is roaming around meeting his clients whereas he should have been celebrating a wicket resulted of his outswinger. This was not where we wanted to be, this was not why we had specifically chosen a cricket-reputed college to do our graduation, this was not why we had invested whatever little money that our parents could afford. But thats how life is. It has its own ways of throwing surprises and hurdles at us. Its our ability to cope with disruptions and failures or crushed dreams that determines our mental toughness, maturity, peace, happiness and contentment in life.

All said and done we are happy yet, not brooding over the failure of our dreams. Rather cherishing the attempt made and all those moments that came along during our attempt. Once again thanks to those beautiful class mates of 8th std. Thats where it all started and paved the way for some wonderful, nostalgic and cherishable days in my life...........

regards

Sri Kumar J

Dada – The renaissance of Indian Cricket !!!!

.

10th Oct 2008 – I was staring at my office computer’s monitor, trying to decide on what other website I should be choosing to browse to while away the idle office time. Just then I got a SMS from my friend. Since I was eagerly waiting for some mail or message, something to keep me engaged for atleast a minute (such was the extremity of my boredom) immediately I took my mobile out of the pouch to read the message. It read “Machi, Dada quitting after the Australia series da”. I was taken aback. It was really a jolt, the news. I immediately pounced on the keyboard to type out all the news channel websites, hoping that atleast one of them will read “Ganguly retirement – a rumour”. But no, all the websites confirmed my friend’s message.

Having been a hardcore fan of Dada and an ardent follower of his ups and downs, I was already praying (rather hoping) for a run feast from his bat to silence all his critics and repeat his ‘comeback skills’. I never wanted to see the last of Ganguly. Everytime people wrote him off, I was begging to God to bring in a revival and that’s what exactly happened all these years. But now, I knew that probably no more miracles are possible. The coming twenty odd days are the last that I am going to see of a man who resurrected Indian cricket and shaped it into a formidable side. Former Australian captain had once quoted “Indian cricket team is a team of great individuals, but we are a great team”. It required a captain of dada’s calibre to change that perception. Right from the day he took over from Azhar, the change was imminent.

Ganguly had taken reign when there were these talks of match-fixing, people throwing matches for money. But here was a man, who almost did anything to see India win. Be it making Steve Waugh wait for eternity or bring back forgotten people (likes of V. Raju just because Aussies were weak against spin bowlers). You could never doubt his intentions or integrity. He was the King of Indian cricket and he made decisions that best suited an Indian win. He was aggressive, arrogant at times. But nothing mattered to him as long as India won. He did not bother about what others thought about him, what the media wrote about his decisions, what the former players had to comment. He only wanted one result, an Indian victory. During his process of building a formidable side he identified men of similar aggressive nature. That’s when the likes of Sehwag, Harbhajan, Yuvraj, Zaheer and of course MS Dhoni, all arrived on the scene. He backed them to the core, since he knew that they had the ability to meet the opponent eye to eye. He was definitely the one who changed the face of Indian cricket in the overseas arena. It was under his leadership that the Indian team learnt the art of ‘killer instinct’. Gone were the days when people used to switch off the television sets once Sachin got out. This new Indian team under dada always gave us hope. Even after 6 wickets going down, we could see that there was a will to fight till the end. Many occasions they did pull it off. The Natwest final being a great example

Ganguly had always been a man who doesn’t mince words when speaking out. He always spoke his heart and little did he know that this trait in him will dethrone him from the empire which he had built all himself. If I was Harsha Bogle, I will probably be cursing myself for having taken that fateful interview and brought out that statement from Ganguly, which resulted in him losing his captaincy and ultimately a place in the side. Within a matter of days Ganguly, from being the maharaj, was reduced to a mortal player, waiting to find a place in the squad. It all happened too soon. Cricket they say is a great leveler. For that matter all sports is. But it was when witnessing what happened to Ganguly did I realize the real bitter meaning behind that saying. True. It did bring Ganguly’s pride to a fall. But it was really emotional to see this great man, who once walked with his head high, like a Maharaj, making all important decisions himself, appearing in a Pepsi ad saying “Am Saurav Ganguly. Hope you all didn’t forget me”. He was pushed to the oblivion and people gunned for his head and wanted to ensure that he was history. I had lost all hopes of seeing back dada in the international cricketing arena. That was when Dilip Vengsarkar, the then new chief selector, who followed Kiran More, threw the lifeline to Ganguly. Wasn’t he waiting for it??? He grabbed it with both the hands and came back to a roaring form. The whole nation was rejoicing seeing the Bengal tiger on the prowl again in the pitch. His knock against the South Africans proved that he was back……… better and wiser !!!!

Not even the best scripted novels would have had the kind of twists and turns that a Ganguly’s cricketing life had. His initial debut in 1992, then the long gap, the burst into international scenario with back to back centuries in England, the match winning batting and bowling performances in Toronto against Pakistan, the takeover of captaincy from Azhar, the Greg spat, the fateful interview, almost nailed into a coffin by Kiran more, the comeback of a lifetime, dropped from the Irani squad for the Aussie series and last minute lifeline from Srikanth, the century at B’lore test, the 15 run short of a record-breaking century and finally the heart-breaking golden duck. Such was the ebb and flow of his fluctuating fortunes.

During his days of glory, Ganguly was probably the most destructive batsman India has ever produced. Such was the audacity of his strokes. The sight of him dancing down the track to the likes of South African quickies (during their tour to India) still remains etched in my memories. The ability to send the ball soaring beyond the boundary with minimum effort is a stamp of Ganguly’s great batting. He was definitely not the best in the business when it came to being technically correct. The bowlers always felt that he gave them a chance. But the fact that, despite that he managed to score more than ten thousand runs in the shorter version and seven thousand odd in the longer version speaks volumes about his character and mental strength. He certainly was the most effective opening batsman for India along with Sachin. The grace with which he pierced the gap between covers and cover point was a treat to watch.

Ganguly was not the most loved or respected person by the opponents. Infact on most occasions he got under their skin. His mere presence sometimes, irritated the opponents, especially the Aussies. But, that was a deliberate ploy which he used successfully to mentally disintegrate the opponents, a fact which was openly accepted by Steve Waugh in his auto-biography. Probably he is the most controversial character in the history of Indian cricket. His entire cricketing life makes an interesting study. He evoked a lot of emotions. Just when you think he is down and out, he will comeback with a roaring knock. And just when you relax and feel that he will go on to play for a long time, he will stammer and land himself in trouble. He was a man full of surprises. His final test match truly evident of that fact. The way he almost pulled off a fairy tale end to his career by coming so close to a century and when people, after his magnificent first innings knock, expected him to crack the whip one last time, he walks back with a golden duck.

For all the trouble, pain and agony which he had gone through, Ganguly, I think would have been more than happy to have received such a resounding farewell. It was a fitting farewell to mark, probably the end of an era. It was a farewell, which he might well feel happy about, considering the fact that he would have loved to play on if given the option to. The sacrifice was well worth the gracious exit which was awarded to him. Even he wouldn’t have dreamt of an end like this when he was left lurching in the woods fighting out for a place in the team. It was a great sight to see him don the captaincy role one last time, waving to the fielders and setting the field. It would have been great if the last wicket had fell under his short little captaincy role. But as always with Ganguly, it doesn’t happen when you expect it the most. But it brought back memories of those wonderful days. The days when he lead the team onto the field, the sight of him wearing the butterfly eye gear with his full sleeves t-shirt folded 3/4th, the great Indian huddle which he formed, the charismatic smile on sealing a victory, his eccentric behavior on the field, the sight of him dancing down the wicket hoisting a left arm off spinner over the boundary for a six, showing his middle finger to the aussie crowd after the historical win over the aussies in Chennai and of course his shirt stripping act………

He would have definitely wanted to have played more matches for India. It’s no doubt that he has been forced into retirement. But it is far better than seeing him fighting in vain against the selectors and the younger lots to gain a place in 11. He deserves a better place to be right now, after all those wonderful moments of joy which he brought to the nation, through his batting, leadership skills and charismatic appearance. The place is our hearts…….

Dada, do not worry about being forced to part away with your place in the Indian team, you will always be celebrated in our hearts, till our lifetime…………

regards
Sri Kumar J

In the Line of Fire !!!

It was a sunny day during the first week of September, 2001. The week wherein terror struck in USA’s twin tower. Back home here we were spending our weekend in the usual fashion, a game of cricket. It was a match against the IIT students, whom we had assumed, will be too busy buried in their books throughout the year to have even the slightest idea of how to face a outswinger or read the googly from the bowler’s arm.We expected it to be a game to be won hands down by us since we were the amateurs (or budding professionals) and they were a bunch of guys playing cricket for recreation. However we were in for a surprise or rather subject to a state of embarrassment. The opponents batted first and thrashed us to all parts of the ground and imposed an almost impossible target for us to chase. That was when I walked onto the field to try and prolong the defeat as much. As always, I opted not to wear a helmet. The visor of the helmet obstructed or rather diverted the focus on the ball. Hence I had always felt uncomfortable inside it.

Things went on fine until that bowler came onto have a spell. He was a short guy, who, during the earlier innings had shown his prowess with the bat. It was his first spell for the day and he gave an impression of a gentle medium pacer. He started his run-up and me was watching him charge towards the stump. The moment the ball pitched short I realized that it was a bouncer, however I managed to tactfully dodge the same and the ball safely proceeded to be pouched by the keeper. “Better wear a helmet da” the bowler quipped to me as he was turning back from his follow through. “That’s OK, I can manage, not a problem” I said. Although I was a bit shaken up by the previous delivery, didn’t want to show that to the bowler. The bowler was ready for the next ball. As he started the run-up, this time I wanted to ensure that am not in the line of fire. The bowler was charging towards the wicket and me was getting ready to shuffle onto the backfoot and counter the ball. As he hurled the ball towards me, I saw it landing halfway onto the pitch and straight it started its journey towards my face. (I can still rewind that video and slow it down to every millisecond !!!!) As I swiveled to attempt a pull shot, I saw the red cherry growing enormously in front of me. The ball looked like a meteorite shooting its way towards the target. With every passing millisecond I could see the ball growing larger, larger and larger as it approached me. I realized that it was too fast for me to pull the ball, however the realization was too late ??.. The ball was now so close to me that nothing else could I see but the ball !!!! With great force it thudded onto the target, My nose ofcourse !!!!.

It felt like a huge boulder being thrown on me and I could feel the pain raising to my head. Such was the jolt and force with which it hit. The next second all I saw was blue skies and I realized that I was collapsing. Just when I was about to fall I saw the three stumps were on my way. Landing on them would mean that am out. Who cared a damn, I thought. When my survival on the earth itself was at stake I wasn’t too bothered about avoiding the stump to be a not out batsman. Straight down I went, taking along with me all the three stumps to the ground.

As I got up to start my walk back to the pavilion, I could sense the oozing of blood from my nose . I was too shaken up to even feel the pain. Just as my friends were shouldering me towards the pavilion, the bowler walked up near to me and said “Sorry yaar. It was not intentional”…………… “Its OK…... all in the game” I replied (huh !! sangoodhara vayasula sangeeeeetha). As I was lying down trying to minimize the blood ooze, when I looked around I could see the next two batsman wearing a helmet and hoping that they will not be required to bat (till then they were roaming around wearing a cap) I couldn't help but have a chuckle at their terror stricken faces. After a few minutes my friends took me to the nearest hospital for a first aid and was later shifted to Malar hospital. The doctors confirmed that the nose bone had crumbled and it will require a surgery and a long bed rest for the same to heal. If at all I had paid heed to the bowlers words when he warned me to wear a helmet I would have saved myself a painful nose and a few thousand bucks for my parents. However, as has always been the case with me, I learnt the lesson the hard way. (But I still try to justify it by saying ‘Lessons learnt the hard way always stays on forever’. Don’t argue back asking ‘Lesson at what cost’, I will have to surrender then).

A few months later - “Machi, this weekend we have a match against the IIT guys da. Are you coming” my friend called up and queried. “Kit bag la helmet irukkaa” I asked :-))

Life goes on......................

12^th of Oct, 1999 – It was the holidays after the term exams. Myself and my friend were standing on that street corner. He was pushing me and shouting “Po daaa. Sollu po. Naan inga wait panren”. I shoved his hand away and kept glued to the place we were standing. “Bayamaa irukku da” I replied. The conversation went on until he finally managed to convince me to go ahead. I started towards the yellow painted house. I was just hoping that the walk will never end. The sun was beating down mercilessly which added to the heat of the moment. Atlast I reached the gate, I was still hoping that probably a locked door will save me. But no, it was wide open and there she came in a round neck t-shirt and a skirt, the symbol of most studious people – a spectacled nose. We chose to sit on the stair case leading to the terrace

“Enna indha timela” she queried as she closed the notebook which she was carrying. I did not know what to answer. I knew for sure that she will not buy if am going to give some crap reason as ‘doubt in one chapter in Business maths’ I was trying hard to comeup with some story when she, realizing my helplessness immediately changed the topic. “Are you not joining us for the tour tomorrow” I asked (I knew already that the list of members going to Ooty the next day was already finalized and she is not making it). “No yaar, parents are not allowing, moreover its proving to be costly. So you guys enjoy” she said. “But this is the last year of schooling and after this all of us will be scattered, why don’t you give it a final try” I suggested. The conversation continued for a while and after that I suddenly remembered the purpose of me making it to her place and the plight of my dear friend who was waiting patiently at the corner of the street. So I got up signaling that I would like to leave. Her expression evidently read “Why did this guy walk in middle of a scorching day and after a few minutes why does he take leave without saying anything”. Probably If she had had even the slightest idea of what I was about to say she would not have been that eager to hear it from my mouth.

As I turned towards the gate and stepped out, I realized that I cant carry it with me anymore and If were to return without telling her, I will be bashed up by my friends, whom I had been troubling a lot because of this issue. So I turned back. She was still there, probably realizing that I wanted her to stay back for a little while. As I looked into her eyes, I could sense my throat turning hoarse. The words refused to come out. “Nothing….. actually what am trying to say is” I started….. “Since I wont be here for the next week on occasion of the tour and as days pass by I find it difficult to carry along this feeling in me…….” and then I SAID IT.............

Yes!!!!!!! I finally managed to sum up the guts to propose to her. What a relief it was !!!! I had been carrying it with me for almost a year and finally it came out. Of course, as with most cases, she immediately said a NO, gave parents as the reason and finally after negotiation she said she needed time. Feeling satisfied to have closed on a good deal I gleefully walked back towards my friend who was still waiting there in the corner.

The tour was over, so was the holidays. School resumed and still the signal was in Amber for me. Days went by and my hopes started to diminish and it started to tell on my otherwise very cheerful behavior in school. Sympathies started pouring in on my favour and for her, people took turns to give her a piece of advice on what they thought about the situation. No change yet.

4^th Nov, 1999 – It was my friends birthday. Yes, the same poor fellow who was waiting at the street corner that day. The whole class was celebrating it and I was joining them unaware of the greater celebration which was about to follow. Yes...... By the day end, atlast the signal showed GREEN. My joy knew no bounds. I was too happy and too busy rejoicing that I was not bothered to realize the magnitude and seriousness of the commitment which I was getting into. Years rolled by and what started off as an infatuation gradually grew into a long term relationship, inching towards the tying of knot....... It was a great feeling to live my dream, the dream of being together forever.

31^st July 2008 – Its her birthday today. Earlier, I had sent her a SMS wishes at midnight 12:00 not wanting to disturb her housefolks and then dozed off. As always for a 9:30 office I woke up at sharp 9:00. Not bothering for a bath, immediately I got dressed up, sprayed the best of perfume available and started to office. Upon logging onto my inbox, there I saw....... Her e-mail...... I opened and downloaded the JPEG attachment simultaneously as I was getting onto the content of the mail.

The mail read "Coming down to Chennai next month for my husband's relative's marriage" As I finished reading the full mail, the photo popped up displaying 'A lady carrying a cute little girl baby'. It was her photo with her new-born kid.

With a wry smile I closed the photo and carried on with the office work. Life moves on and so do I, but holding onto dear memories………

regards

J. Sri Kumar

Taking guard !!!!

Hi All………. (if at all for anyone who bothers to read this !!) This is my debut with regard to writing a blog. Don’t know how am going to fare in this. Anyways people learn to walk by falling down. So no issues…… As I take guard to start a new innings, I have no idea on how long I can sustain in the crease. Anyways I start off with a hope to enjoy the game till my stay in it....... Here I go !!!!!!!!!!!!!

All these days I was strongly of the belief that blogging is mainly for people who are jobless, who are on the job with a PC/Laptop provided by the company but no project to work on, who have a PC at home with high speed broad band connection providing upto 2 GB free download and no botheration about the phone bill since its paid by someone else in the family, who work part-time in internet centre and the list goes on……. Hence never have I bothered to peek into them since I was quite busy (seriously, believe me !!) with my ex-employer. I used to work for minimum of 13 hrs a day and had nothing else to do upon returning home but eat and hit the bed, taking along with me the curse of bunch of people who would have tried to reach me on mobile during the day, only to find that I chose not to pick their call for an important transaction on desk

Now having moved job and falling under one of the above categories which I have mentioned, I had recently got an opportunity to read few of my friend’s blogs (because I had to while away 8 prolonged hours at office). Once I was through with reading of his blogs it was a revelation to me. Having known him for close to 11 years never was I able to guess or sense that he had such a dimension in him. I should accept that I really enjoyed reading his blogs, for it solved the purpose of whiling away time for me and most importantly gave me insights on understanding my own friend whom, all these years I had thought that I understood him well enough. So I should say he was in a way responsible for me taking to writing blog. Not an inspiration though, but yes, a trigger definitely.

Coming to other reasons on why I started blogging…. First reason is obviously ‘currently I have no project to work on’. But if that was the only reason I still have many more options to while away time. Why Blog ??? The reason is….. being a hyper-nostalgic person who always chooses to freeze each and every eventful moments of his life and save it for posterity, who had always wished that he had just four fingers and the fifth one as a camera which enables him to capture each moment, I found blog to be the perfect platform to freeze some of my thought flows in the form of words. When after a few years if I get to revisit my blog it will be a wonderful walk through the memory lane. Again why Blog ?? I could have made use of maintaining a diary to record my daily happenings and I did try that. It lasted for two days and then I found nothing eventful or worthwhile to be jotted on a daily basis. Straight it went to the bin (both the idea and the diary).

Unlike my dear friend who was honest enough to accept that he started blogging to impress a few (and round off on one !!!!) my idea of joining the bandwagon is entirely different. I don’t know whether there will be anyone who will be interested to read my scribblings here, but I do know for sure that one person will be very eager and anxious to run through all the pages of this blog and will hold it close to his heart. Although the day is quite far and many more years to come for my ‘special visitor’, I don’t mind spending time now recording all my thought flows. Ok now, its wind up time at office.Since the purpose is solved I hereby signoff………

Wait wait….. Didn’t I reveal who the visitor is ??? Its obviously ME, a elder and more mature ME after a few years…………….

regards

J. Sri Kumar