I am thinking
whether this should be funny or not.

I said
is a line that complicates the tense of this entire post. So I shall skip it.

I want
sound sleep.

I wish
for contentment.

I miss
Rajjo, pre-2002, my grandparents

I hear
“jakkamma jakkamma” on my comp speakers.

I wonder
a lot about a lot of things, thanks to my complicated nature.

I regret
being so lazy.

I am
so lazy.

I dance
only to Tamil ganaas. (and occasionally at Punjabi weddings. I hope the Devil is listening. :P)

I sing
a lot. And I am very bad at it.

I cry
on those rare moments

I am not
a fan of F-1.

I write
very less nowadays.

I confuse
people with my warped sense of logic. (apparently)

I need
to do something worthwhile in life.

I should
stop answering similar questions!!!

I finish
my coffee last.

And now I pass this tag on to:
Avi
Abhi
Other
DD
f@rt
Vishy

Sporting Year

It’s been that kind of a year. A horrible horrible sporting year for me.

It started off with the Detroit Pistons losing in the conference finals.
That hurt a lot. They had played some of the best basketball in the regular season, notched up the league best record, were at one point of time threatening to challenge the Bulls’ Jordan-era wins record, grabbed home court throughout the playoffs...and lost to the Miami Heat.
Hurt a lot.

My quote then to the Devil (whose Lakers had already been eliminated), and who knows a thing or two about bad sporting years for quite some time now, had been “I am looking at the silver lining now. This loss only means that something even more special is going to happen. Argentina is definitely going to win the World Cup.”

And Friday happened.

More hurt. I won’t get to the details. Hurts even more.

And I, with my ever-ready declarative mouth, said, “It’s been really really bad this year. But there is only one person who always sees to it that my sporting year is never an abject failure. Never ever lets me down...”

Rahul Dravid.

The smile is back. Kind of.

The Hindu’s report on the match today begins like this,
If there were any doubts about Rahul Dravid being his country's greatest ever Test batsman, he dispelled them in the fourth Test here.

Man of the Match.
Man of the Series.
Captain of a team to win in the Windies after 35 years.

Enough said.
Or is it?

I promise to make no more comparisons to the “other” player. I have just turned a corner...along with Dravid.

It would be a gross injustice to even go down that lane.
I mean...what was I thinking...with all those mail-wars in Infy, or the “comparison post”! Can those “supporters” even begin to write a line in their defense?
Why couldn’t I have just waited, and let Dravid do the talking?

Chris Gayle, in his column in today’s TOI, narrates this incident. The gist is this –
Apparently he asked Dravid how he managed to concentrate so hard, and remain so focussed. To which Dravid’s reply was, “I am not like you. I have to work very hard for every run. I can’t score boundaries like the others...”

Brilliant.

L Sivaramakrishnan’s quote: “It seems like there are two pitches. One, when Dravid is batting. The other, when the remaining players are batting...”

Why couldn’t I have just waited, and let Dravid do the talking?
Hmm...that’s a tough question.
Probably all the anger at the ignorance of the others.

But that anger has been replaced by pity. A lot of pity actually.

So, as I said, the smile is back.

Thanks dude!

:-)