Musings

Published on Sportscafe I had a dream. I was playing Cricket and since it was a dream, I was invariably batting. The bowler runs in and I whack him for a 100 metres 6 over mid-wicket. The ball is lost and they bring out a new one. That felt good. The bowler runs in again, and this time, the flick of the wrist sends it soaring over square leg. 2 in 2! Ha! Bring it on, I Say! I target the off-side now; cream it over cover. 3 in 3! I am not just feeling good anymore; I am feeling great. The bowler though is not feeling all that well. He is trembling in fear. He switches sides; fat, lot of good that will do him! It is a filthy full toss outside off, and I just help it over back ward point. 4 in 4! I am invincible, I can do anything now. I am almost bored by now. Decide to get back to leg side again. Flick it over backward square leg this time. 6! 5 in 5! I am Super Man! No one can stop me. This is inevitable now. Pure academic interest. Only one thing can happen. I launch it into

Published on Sports Cafe A captain is only as good as his team; or so they say. Well, they are fools. Cricket, with its nuances and minute intricacies, with its subtleties and glorious uncertainties elevates Captaincy into an art form of the highest order. From Mike Brearley to Steve Waugh, from Imran Khan to Saurav Ganguly and from Richie Beanaud to Graeme Smith, Cricket is awash with examples of great captains inspiring their players to dredging the deepest of reserves and leading them to conquering the highest of peaks. A Cricket team is greater than the sum of its parts. The difference is the team’s captain. Little wonder then, that they say, in India, the Prime Minister’s job is the 2 nd  toughest job in the country, after that of the Country’s Cricket Captain; which brings us to MS Dhoni. I had never been to Ranchi. But then again it is not the sort of place you will often find yourself needing to visit. By all accounts, it is a small city, inconsequential in the larger

To be the best you can?! Oh what a frightfully tyrannical concept! Life ain’t no race to run; The better it is, the sooner you accept. As lap follows lap, And year begets year; You harp, On a point to prove, And forget to live. With hardly a moment to savour, The hard earned fruits of your labour, You forever continue to clamour, for ever lasting favour. As you continue to climb the ladder, Rung after rung, Rung after rung, You alas only find yourselves sadder, Till finally, with futility, you are stung. You ask, of what use is a brace, When to lust for there is a hat rick? You little realize, that it is but a pathetic chase! When, if ever, for you will it click, That to live is not to race? The joy within you, learn to embrace. Let the desire within you fly, Lest tomorrow, you end up with a cry. Long after your youth has passed you by, And as you prepare for your final rest, Let there not be regret on why, You have not lived your life in real zest T