Once upon a time in Heaven, God was personally conducting interviews in the Cricket Desk of the Ministry of Soul Recycling. He sat on his throne and asked for the souls to approach him one at a time.
'What do you want to be in this birth?' God asked the first soul.
'I want to be the most productive cricketer of all times.'
'What will you do with this gift?'
'I will score centuries. I will make a mountain of runs. Every record in the game will belong to me.'
'So be it. You shall be born in the Tendulkar family in Mumbai. With this gift, I also give you a curse. Your prowess will be useless in moments that matter the most. Who's next?'
The second soul approached, bowed and said:
'What you are to the world, I want to be in the cricket field.'
'Fool! You dare compete with me? I can punish you by making you a football player. In India, mind you, not Europe or Latin America. But since you spoke your mind, I shall grant half your wish. You shall rule the off side. Your cover drives will be elegant and impossible. But the short-pitched ball will remind you of my wrath. You'll be a leader like me, but your leadership will also bring you unimaginable pressures. Now go. Be born in the Ganguly household in Kolkata! Next!!'
The third soul came and stood timidly in front of God.
'A shy one, are you? Are you aware that you can't ask for gifts I've already given away?'
'I am. Let me also be aware of the state of the game at all times. Let me have the ability to stay at the crease. I want to be the immovable object.'
'Interesting. What will you do with this ability?'
'I will do more than you intended me to.'
'I'd like to see that happen. I grant you your wish. But I will also restrict your array of strokes. You'll labour even when others sizzle. You'll play second fiddle to perfection, even when you deserve the top spot. Go now, to Indore and take birth in the Dravid household. Next!!'
'You're a bit of a terror, aren't you?' the fourth soul asked.
'And you, young thing, are outspoken. I like that. What do you want?'
'I want my eyes and my hands to be become one holistic magic organ. They must always be in sync.'
'And your goal?'
'I will be the most feared batsman in the world. I will play the most memorable innings in the history of the game. My shots will be audacious, my attitude even more so.'
'Yes. Yes, of course! But your curse is that your eyes and hands will decouple from your brain at inopportune times. No bowler will ever dismiss you. Your brain will assign that task to itself. It's only fit that you be born a Jat. Go to Delhi and be a Sehwag. Next!! Who's next? I don't see anybody.'
'That's because I'm prostrating before you, my Lord.'
Pleased by this soul, God rose from his throne and came up to him.
'Tell me, my child, what can I give you? The others have taken the most glorious gifts in the game. Can you think of something that can still make you special?'
'I want to win games for my country. More games than anybody ever has. I want to deliver when the chips are down.'
'Ah! My child. I see that the others have missed asking for the most special gift of all. It's yours. I shall add to it. You shall wield your bat like a magic wand. You shall thus mesmerize your opposition. You will look clumsy and be graceful. Your wrists shall make the Australians weep. Your morality will be a shining example to others. And you shall display all those gifts with a humble and steely mind.'
'Lord, what's my curse?' the soul asked.
'I'm afraid, my child, that no matter how well you perform, people will forget you exist. You'll spend your life proving yourself again and again.'
'That doesn't sound so bad.'
'It isn't. Because I shall be watching. And I will remember every magic act you perform on the field. Now go to Hyderabad. Assume the longest name in the game. You will hereafter be called Vangipurappu Venkata Sai Laxman. And since people will not be able to remember that, they will call you Laxman. Except when you dazzle. They will then remember you to be Very Very Special Laxman.'
Showing posts with label Sachin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sachin. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
Lash, the human tongue
Many headlines this week seem to be bound together by a common theme: what is tolerance?
The first story is that an article written by Taslima Nasrin years ago was translated by a Kannada daily, reading which Muslims in Shimoga and other places in Karnataka turned violent and clashed with cops and Hindus. Lives were lost. In case you haven't read Madam Taslima's article, here it is.
The second story is that of M. F. Hussain accepting Qatari citizenship because he was hounded out of the country by Hindu fundamentalists who opposed his depiction of "Bharathmata" in the nude. This issue, too, is years old. The painting came up for auction more than four years ago and looks like this.
The reason I've provided these links is because our mainstream media believes in talking endlessly about such controversies without showing us what the fuss is all about.
Anyway, the easy parallel between both stories is that two people belonging to creative professions offered viewpoints that supposedly hurt the religious sentiments of Indians. Indian Muslims in the first instance and Indian Hindus in the second. In both cases, the hurt public believed that burning, shrieking, hurling stones and issuing threats were excellent ideas and would certainly bring the artists to their knees.
They, of course, had alternatives:
1) Ignore the works
Indifference is more resounding than a slap and more scalding than fire. An artist fears nothing more.
2) Ask for an explanation
If the anguish by the works was so deep that it needed a response, then can one not demand an explanation from the artist? Are our Gods so weak that we cannot use their wisdom to counter the viewpoint of a mortal artist, assuming that the artist indeed was dreadfully wrong?
For better or for worse, the Constitution is the only holy book in a democracy. We know who wrote it, when and why. And the best part: it's subject to change. We can always reassess this holy book and align it as per the changes occuring in society. Religious books, on the other hand, offer metaphors that define a past era. That they are often profoundly valid in our time is a tribute to writers and visionaries burned and buried long ago.
Extrapolating, I cannot but wonder: can it be ethical or even legal to ban an artist's work? How does one justify that in a democracy? Why can't even rabidly vulgar works be brought out and examined for what they are? Is this because we're a developing country with unenviable literacy rates? Is tolerance a matter of education? If so, how did Gandhiji manage to acquire our Independence by selling his vision to the illiterate millions of India? Aren't we typically smug by suggesting that intellectual debate requires refinement as we understand this word?
I really cannot fathom these expanding fringes in our society, but I wouldn't mind their existence in the very least if they were just rabble-rousing tongue lashers. If only they shunned the easy short-cut: violence. These people probably underestimate the power of the human tongue. It's not just a festering ground for germs and a sensuous barometer of the kiss. It's also a potent weapon. Haven't we all slayed with our tongues? Haven't our dear ones, especially, felt its venomous darts? Perhaps we can argue that the tongue doesn't work half as well when used to lash strangers. Ah! The proper practitioner of this banal - yet dark - art can reduce even strangers to tears. Bertrand Russell and, more recently, Simon Cowell come to mind.
And speaking of lashing tongues, I'd like to ask anybody who'd care to listen: just why is it so unacceptable to criticize Sachin Tendulkar? I think now is the best time to ask this question - when he has made the transition from immortal to divine. I particularly want to ask those former captains of Indian cricket (Mumbaikars, most of them) why they felt it so necessary to crucify Sanjay Manjrekar for making unflattering remarks about Sachin? Again: are our Gods so weak?
Reminds me of 1989. I and my then best friend Stephen Pinto used to sit on our building terrace and discuss Sachin deep into the evening. Any nitwit who has held a cricket bat in his hand could immediately see that the 16-year-old Sachin was a phenomenon like no other. Stevie and I were convinced much before the Indian think-tank that Sachin must open in ODIs. We were also always critical of Sachin. Simply because Gods must save the universe every single day. Because the man who was born Spiderman cannot have the weaknesses of Peter Parker. Sorry, that's how it is. It's cruel, yes, but true nonetheless for puny humans like us. We expected Sachin to play the 1997 Sharjah sandstorm innings every time he went in to bat. And for so many years in between, Sachin heaped the numbers without leaving a lasting impression in my mind. I daresay Stevie would agree.
That changed in March 2008 when he won us the Triseries Down Under. We didn't even have to play the third of the best-of-three finals. Since then, Sachin has been playing the way he was designed to. He's consistently winning us matches and, in the process, pointing us to the gap between him and a Ponting or a Lara. The God himself is putting finishing touches to the temple we're erecting for him in our minds. That's how it should be. And if experts believe that the extraordinarily few criticisms have spurred Sachin to greater heights, then there's all the more reason to lash our tongues.
I think Gods do welcome a little challenge thrown at them by mortals. So Sachin: do you think you have enough gas left in the tank to lift the World Cup? Really? Show me.
The first story is that an article written by Taslima Nasrin years ago was translated by a Kannada daily, reading which Muslims in Shimoga and other places in Karnataka turned violent and clashed with cops and Hindus. Lives were lost. In case you haven't read Madam Taslima's article, here it is.
The second story is that of M. F. Hussain accepting Qatari citizenship because he was hounded out of the country by Hindu fundamentalists who opposed his depiction of "Bharathmata" in the nude. This issue, too, is years old. The painting came up for auction more than four years ago and looks like this.
The reason I've provided these links is because our mainstream media believes in talking endlessly about such controversies without showing us what the fuss is all about.
Anyway, the easy parallel between both stories is that two people belonging to creative professions offered viewpoints that supposedly hurt the religious sentiments of Indians. Indian Muslims in the first instance and Indian Hindus in the second. In both cases, the hurt public believed that burning, shrieking, hurling stones and issuing threats were excellent ideas and would certainly bring the artists to their knees.
They, of course, had alternatives:
1) Ignore the works
Indifference is more resounding than a slap and more scalding than fire. An artist fears nothing more.
2) Ask for an explanation
If the anguish by the works was so deep that it needed a response, then can one not demand an explanation from the artist? Are our Gods so weak that we cannot use their wisdom to counter the viewpoint of a mortal artist, assuming that the artist indeed was dreadfully wrong?
For better or for worse, the Constitution is the only holy book in a democracy. We know who wrote it, when and why. And the best part: it's subject to change. We can always reassess this holy book and align it as per the changes occuring in society. Religious books, on the other hand, offer metaphors that define a past era. That they are often profoundly valid in our time is a tribute to writers and visionaries burned and buried long ago.
Extrapolating, I cannot but wonder: can it be ethical or even legal to ban an artist's work? How does one justify that in a democracy? Why can't even rabidly vulgar works be brought out and examined for what they are? Is this because we're a developing country with unenviable literacy rates? Is tolerance a matter of education? If so, how did Gandhiji manage to acquire our Independence by selling his vision to the illiterate millions of India? Aren't we typically smug by suggesting that intellectual debate requires refinement as we understand this word?
I really cannot fathom these expanding fringes in our society, but I wouldn't mind their existence in the very least if they were just rabble-rousing tongue lashers. If only they shunned the easy short-cut: violence. These people probably underestimate the power of the human tongue. It's not just a festering ground for germs and a sensuous barometer of the kiss. It's also a potent weapon. Haven't we all slayed with our tongues? Haven't our dear ones, especially, felt its venomous darts? Perhaps we can argue that the tongue doesn't work half as well when used to lash strangers. Ah! The proper practitioner of this banal - yet dark - art can reduce even strangers to tears. Bertrand Russell and, more recently, Simon Cowell come to mind.
And speaking of lashing tongues, I'd like to ask anybody who'd care to listen: just why is it so unacceptable to criticize Sachin Tendulkar? I think now is the best time to ask this question - when he has made the transition from immortal to divine. I particularly want to ask those former captains of Indian cricket (Mumbaikars, most of them) why they felt it so necessary to crucify Sanjay Manjrekar for making unflattering remarks about Sachin? Again: are our Gods so weak?
Reminds me of 1989. I and my then best friend Stephen Pinto used to sit on our building terrace and discuss Sachin deep into the evening. Any nitwit who has held a cricket bat in his hand could immediately see that the 16-year-old Sachin was a phenomenon like no other. Stevie and I were convinced much before the Indian think-tank that Sachin must open in ODIs. We were also always critical of Sachin. Simply because Gods must save the universe every single day. Because the man who was born Spiderman cannot have the weaknesses of Peter Parker. Sorry, that's how it is. It's cruel, yes, but true nonetheless for puny humans like us. We expected Sachin to play the 1997 Sharjah sandstorm innings every time he went in to bat. And for so many years in between, Sachin heaped the numbers without leaving a lasting impression in my mind. I daresay Stevie would agree.
That changed in March 2008 when he won us the Triseries Down Under. We didn't even have to play the third of the best-of-three finals. Since then, Sachin has been playing the way he was designed to. He's consistently winning us matches and, in the process, pointing us to the gap between him and a Ponting or a Lara. The God himself is putting finishing touches to the temple we're erecting for him in our minds. That's how it should be. And if experts believe that the extraordinarily few criticisms have spurred Sachin to greater heights, then there's all the more reason to lash our tongues.
I think Gods do welcome a little challenge thrown at them by mortals. So Sachin: do you think you have enough gas left in the tank to lift the World Cup? Really? Show me.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Splitting the 50-over ODI
Sachin's suggestion that the 50-over game be split into two innings of 25 overs each gives fresh legs to an important idea. Chopping up the format will certainly help it stay alive in the T20 era, mainly because it offers the following benefits:
1) The toss becomes less significant. Both sides get almost equal use of pitch conditions and daylight.
2) It creates new strategic possibilities in the game, a different approach to deploying resources. (Four sets of slog overs, anyone?)
3) It increases the commerciability of the game.
I'm all for this change in format. Except that I would suggest a twist to the new format. How about this?
Team A bats 25 overs.
Team B bats 50 overs at one go.
Team A bats its remaining quota of 25 overs.
Of course, this format has its drawbacks. In fact, some might say that Team B gets a huge advantage because it gets to bat without interruptions. Set batsmen can keep going. Moreover, in a day game, Team A will have to grapple with a fresh pitch to begin with, and also with twilight towards the end of the game. So Team B seems to get the best batting conditions in the day game.
But consider the day-night format. Morning dew ceases to be a factor - and if the pitch is a Sleeping Beauty, then Team A gets to whack the ball around in the first inning. And when they get down to bat during the final inning, the bowlers might have a tough time gripping the wet ball. So in this case, Team A gets some advantages in exchange for Team B's advantage of batting without interruptions.
I also love the idea that both teams get to set and chase targets in the same game. The possibilities really open up.
Now, if only someone in ICC will read this humble blog and not dismiss it in an instant...
1) The toss becomes less significant. Both sides get almost equal use of pitch conditions and daylight.
2) It creates new strategic possibilities in the game, a different approach to deploying resources. (Four sets of slog overs, anyone?)
3) It increases the commerciability of the game.
I'm all for this change in format. Except that I would suggest a twist to the new format. How about this?
Team A bats 25 overs.
Team B bats 50 overs at one go.
Team A bats its remaining quota of 25 overs.
Of course, this format has its drawbacks. In fact, some might say that Team B gets a huge advantage because it gets to bat without interruptions. Set batsmen can keep going. Moreover, in a day game, Team A will have to grapple with a fresh pitch to begin with, and also with twilight towards the end of the game. So Team B seems to get the best batting conditions in the day game.
But consider the day-night format. Morning dew ceases to be a factor - and if the pitch is a Sleeping Beauty, then Team A gets to whack the ball around in the first inning. And when they get down to bat during the final inning, the bowlers might have a tough time gripping the wet ball. So in this case, Team A gets some advantages in exchange for Team B's advantage of batting without interruptions.
I also love the idea that both teams get to set and chase targets in the same game. The possibilities really open up.
Now, if only someone in ICC will read this humble blog and not dismiss it in an instant...
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