Friday, 25 March 2011

A match to remember for many reasons.

At the break when Australia has scored a respectful total of 260 with Ponting getting back in form almost playing a flawless innings he wouldn't have been a relieved man. So much pressure has been there in past few days, but he persevered and showed what a champion he is. After all he has been in the world cup winning squad three times of which he has lead his time to it.

India knew that the game was on. When one champion performs, others relish the challenge to answer and so that must be going in the mind of the great Master Blaster Sachin. He has been in tremendous form. The chase was on as they were not so very good batting conditions.

Sachin scored a fifty which sounds pretty decent and some boundaries like the one on the midwicket with a flick, that made me stand and applause seemed to showcase the innings as a fluent one. People, specially Indian crowd do have a small memory. The outside edges of Sachin don't make that inning so fluent with all the respect to him. Surely they were tough conditions but the ball was new and hard it was nice to play medium pacers.

What Ponting may have been thinking though out. He has not been on the losing side so often. He tried his hardest. The evening could be summarized for him in his try to stop the ball on his left hand side, the hand which has a famously injured little finger. But the ball went passed. Sachin did his  job, so did Gambhir, Yuvraj and Raina. And the match went past Ponting too. The match truly worthy of a world cup quarter final.

The reasons why this match should a memorable one are Sachin getting to his Eighteen thousand runs, Yuvraj hitting the purple patch, Ponting getting back to form and the most importantly Australia out of the World Cup which may seem odd to many people out there as it was kind of a habit for them.

Sachin getting to his Eighteen thousand runs has to happen. It is now a routine for cricket lovers in the world to stand up and clap every 10th match as Sachin is breaking some record. What a batsman!
Yuvraj, who had question marks coming into this world cup has been a quiet self but not with the bat and ball. A younger Yuvraj would be arguing, speaking and shouting but may be the calmness has added the maturity in him and what a way he has answered his critics. He may be going along to win the Man of the Series.
At last what was important was getting over the line and Yuvraj along with Raina got India across.

The other part to it which I noticed was Indian crowd. They don't appreciate cricket. They are not cricket fans I should say but Indian Nationalists.
When I got up in the morning I could see Indians abuse Ponting and Australia through various media. I was as disappointed by this as much I was joyous on the win.

To be honest there were too many edges and discomfort for Indian batsmen as compared to Aussies. One may have no issues with that as they were with better temperament and the victory is most important.
Amazingly the crowd is too ignorant to the fact, the team which they call fully Indian has South African Coach and non Indian people in the dressing room. We need to learn to accept facts and appreciate others too with moving along of our wish to win.

Remember the 1996 Semifinal when the match was aborted and India was ashamed not just because we lost but the way we behaved.
We didn't know how to behave when we lose badly. This time its the other way round.
We don't know how to win and win with a smile for the opposition rather than abusing the defending champions.  It hurts when a buddy in my office sends an abusive Yuvraj - Ponting poster to my team which include Australians.

India though move to Mohali and have the brightest chance to bring the cup home now. But the people need to keep the sporting spirits alive. 

Wednesday, 23 March 2011

Life is a Desire, Not a Meaning - Charlie Chaplin.


His eyes stood still. For the first time in entire life I could see a sense of satisfaction in his eyes. He was not nervous.

But I was. He lay on the bed number eleven in this government hospital. After all, eleven was his lucky number. He was born on the Eleventh day of April, forty seven years back. Doctors have already left if up to God for him to live or to die.

I took his cold right hand in my hands and nervously started to tickle through in his palm with my fingers. “Your life line suggests nothing will happen to you.”, I said still moving my finger on his life line and looking deep into it as if to hide from something. “You still have a long way to go. You just cant leave it incomplete. It has been a long struggle. How can you do this?”, I upped my tone. “How can you do this to yourself? To me? Nothings gonna happen to you.” I carried on from before hoping for an instant reply, which he would always give. But this time it was not to be.

I lifted my chin up still holding his hand and looked into his eyes. For the first time since I've known him, he was quietly listening to me. I just kept looking towards him and waited. He just kept quiet.
Before my senses could tell me, a drop of tear fell on my hand running down to his palm. He felt it. He felt that drop of tear on his palm faster that I could realize that had I started crying.

Looked down towards his palm and then lifted his eye lids just enough to dive in my heart through my wet eyes and said, “Heena. The dream is not yet over.”.. He took a pause. He was already speaking with pauses between the words as if silence would speak up for him. “The dream is not yet over. Now I want to dream and go to a long sleep. You take if forward.”, he said slowly again with long breaths in between. Just as I was trying to understand and find a meaning in his words he disturbed, “ What do you want meaning for? Life is a desire, not a meaning.”.

“I think you should not speak much now. You need rest.”, I replied seriously. He replied as instantly as always, “We think too much, and feel too little.” “That's what the great Charlie said”, I completed the jargon as I always used to suddenly realizing that I may not get the chance to do so again. He was a great fan of the English comedian Charlie Chaplin.

Once again I broke into tears thinking of life without him. He did not stop me. He just lay there still, seemingly satisfied, and just looked.

“I have left a letter for you on the last page of my diary. Those will be my last words to you.”, he said slowly closing his eyes. “I will read it, OK?”, I replied kind of showing my annoyance and there was no response yet again.

I shook him to show him that he was hurting me with his words, and his head fell from the pillow to the side of it. “Doctor! Help! Help Someone!”, I screamed in fear. I suddenly realized that he was dead. He was gone and left me alone. Ironically, I did not cry. I just went silent and thought that he was gone.

Thursday, 17 March 2011

Kayamat ki Raat. | क़यामत की रात .

Hum to tamannaon ke aanchal mein simat jaate the
Jaane kis mod se nikli, haasil ki baat.

Aaj bhi karti hain mehsoos meri ungliyan
Kabhi pakda tha haathon mein, jo aapka haath.

Main saath chalne ki koshish to kiya karta tha
Tum ruk na paye lekin, Raahi ke saath.

Aaj karta hai insaan jo use karne do
Jab Woh bolega hogi Kayamat ki raat.


Hum to tamannaon ke aanchal mein simat jaate the
Jaane kis mod se nikli, haasil ki baat.

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हम  तो  तमन्नाओं  के  आँचल  में  सिमट  जाते  थे 
जाने  किस  मोड़  से  निकली, हासिल  की  बात . 

आज  भी  करती  हैं  महसूस  मेरी  उँगलियाँ 
कभी  पकड़ा  था  हाथों  में, जो  आपका  हाथ .

मैं  साथ  चलने  की  कोशिश  तो  किया  करता  था 
तुम  रुक  न  पाए  लेकिन , राही  के  साथ . 

आज  करता  है  इंसान  जो  उसे  करने  दो 
जब  वोह  बोलेगा  होगी  क़यामत  की  रात .

हम  तो  तमन्नाओं  के  आँचल  में  सिमट  जाते  थे 
जाने  किस  मोड़  से  निकली, हासिल  की  बात .