Battling on a wicked wicket


These are tough times for the sub continent. Sri Lanka thought it had won the war against the LTTE but then realized that it’s not over until it’s over. The Bangladeshi rifles went berserk, India went through 26/11, Pakistan is under ever increasing threat of falling to the Taliban and now the Lankan cricketers have been targeted in Pakistan. The Govt of India is reviewing feasibility of IPL given elections in April, May. Rubbish.
Terror wars are creeping to our doors and the ploy now seems to be around doing the unexpected, taking by surprise and making the unexpected happen. I sympathize with the average Pakistani and the average Lankan. They probably don’t have too much to do with the reasons why an LTTE was born or why Taliban entered their country. Yet they seem to have been unwillingly cast in the dramatic chapters of how the terror war will ensue. They are props who will play corpses, maimed strugglers and terrified by standers. Some might go beyond their ‘designate’ roles and drive the bus away quickly, as the Lahore driver did today or like Mr Zende who shouted his throat hoarse in Mumbai CST during the 26/11 attacks. More or less, most common men will helplessly play to what has been scripted
The Sri Lankan cricketers in a sense are the common man of the cricketing community. They would probably have been joking about how they’ll get 300 runs more today and bat the Pakis out of the game when the bullets hit their bus. Largely uncelebrated until 1996 their captain Ranatunga led them to the World Cup and lots of self dignity. Prior to that he had also led a protest walk off in Australia when his prized Murali was called for chucking. After that victory, the Lankans have been good in parts, scintillating at times but equally ordinary otherwise. Even their so called stars, Murali and Jayasuriya have always appeared amiable and jovial, ones with everyone else. Their sense of self respect and dignity has always been supreme. The sense that one gets from the Lankan team is that they are all simple folks, people who might have been running small businesses back home if they’d not discovered the willow. The only team that feels more bucolic is the West Indian one and they by the way, happen to be best behaved on the field. After the Lahore incident, The Lankan cricketers might wonder “Why us”? But then that’s a question that most innocent terror victims around the world have been asking themselves for quite some time now, all in vain.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Begs the Question

Beggars are as much a part of Mumbai as the Gateway of India. Over the last 10 years of actively roaming around the city, the no of cars have increased and so have the no of beggars. What has also changed is the kind of beggars in the city. The first kind of beggar that I encountered was the simple woebegone face kinds who would sit by the roadside and keep uttering monosyllables the year round. There was no strategy of any kind in place, and the adage beggars can’t be choosers used to get played out. Most of them seemed fatalistic. As the economy evolved and liberalized, so did beggars. For one, I think even the beggar economy opened up. There were a lot many more beggars because there was a lot many more economic activity (and hence money to be handed out) and a lot many more people. The quality of begging also changed. Some beggars, in order to differentiate their pitch, started to exhibit their skills. So you had harmonium totting kids and adults causing disharmony in trains. Strat
Read more

Plane Truths II

Image
Continuing my series of what happens to me in relation to airplanes, I have a gem to share. The wrestle of the arm rest can be quite irritating especially when both adversaries want it equally badly. The war of course is lost right at the beginning if one of the adversaries has an arm that's armrest size! My Chennai to Mumbai flight was spent in half a seat, with me folded up around an imaginary vertical axis, actually measuring kilometers to Mumbai and counting down time. I thought I was lucky to get a window seat, my luck ended the moment the middle seat next to me and half of my seat got occupied by a gargantuan who was impersonating a human being. Arm rest was the first casualty, I gave it up in the first 5 secs; my midriff also was being molested constantly by the elbow of the beast. Am not slightly built either but I know how to mark my territory out and contain my body within. Land grabbing was being rendered a new meaning by my sizable neigbour and I felt a bit like Papua N
Read more

Footpath- quite pedestrian

Image
I grew up in a Govt. colony in Mumbai. This meant that I had the luxury of a lot of things that were absent in the city outside campus. One of these was the footpath. Right since I was a toddler, I was instructed to keep to the footpath, lest I get in the path of a ‘speeding’ Fiat (that’s an oxymoron). That might sound funny, but the inherent message was clear, steer clear of the motorist. In a city where cars outnumber themselves everyday, it’s become a challenge to find a footpath. Most of you might have noticed this but its worth reiterating. 1. Footpaths do exist. Just that above them also exist a layer called hawkers. This layer is more permanent than pedestrian aspirations and difficult to remove. 2. Footpaths do exist. Just that above them frequently is a mosaic of human excreta, with some dog poo thrown in between. Nearby slums can’t do their bit on the highway can they and there’s nowhere else to go. 3. Footpaths do exist. Just that often the BMC or MTNL or MMRDA or such body
Read more