Amidst the light chatter of the elite and the soft tinkle of silverware, the ugly crackle of gunshots. Dinner is interrupted....by terror. Dapper men in suits and women in expensive pearls
become the targets of indiscriminate bullets. Evil grips the iconic buildings of the country's financial capital, strenghthening its hold every passing second...vanquishing everything that stands in the way. Elsewhere in the city, rivers of blood filled with human jetsam flow freely. People watch in horror the city's first war...perhaps not the first..but first of its kind. The night sky is ablaze with fire...Lucifer's fire. Bombs go off every few minutes. Unbelievable confusion. Media feasting on the police's inability to control the war... vulture-like. The courageous are put to the ultimate test...and lost. A heavy loss. Irreplacable. Bullets find more flesh. The City awake...watching...egging on the police while sitting in the comforts of their homes. The ordeal seems never-ending. Children orphaned. Wives widowed. A Mother's heart breaks. Finally, after 60 hours of intense combat, Evil is vanquished. People breath again. They rejoice. Those who lost their loved ones cry. Those who care also cry.One tear for each person dead. 163 tears in all. Candles lit. Vows taken. Heroes saluted. Questions asked. Answers pending. Politicians stripped naked. Their ugly game exposed and resented
But will things change? Or will this great city move on with an added scar of terrorism? is this really the end peoples' tolerance? Are they finally going to stop ranting about the so called "spirit of Mumbai"? Or will our life go on because our family escaped this deadly game this one more time? I think we know the answer.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
From Cool To Dumber
Quite recently a person very close to my heart acquired a significant other. I was happy for her and everything, but eventually the thing I perpetually feared happened. I lost her. The defeat was more bitter because I did not even know who I lost her to. I’m sure he’s a nice boy. But I’m just happier hating him.
Things reached a point where I thought our friendship was in joepardy. So I confronted her, she guilt-tripped me (another thing I predicted) and now we’er back on square one. The situation on square one by the way is such: she’s frolicking with that buster, while I’m reminiscing about the days when she was still my serene-faced, quirky, essentially non-soppy, forever on the phone with me best freind.
While I was listing out things to her that have changed since we hit adulthood, I started realizing just how much I have morphed into an idiot. Then I felt sorry for her as she must have gone through the same thing. Though I certainly feel the same towards that ill-fated blighter, my feelings towards her have slightly mellowed. So, I made a list if things I think have changed about me that really shouldn’t have. Everyone knows how I am now. Here’s how I was when I was 13-
1. I wore over-sized shirts that covered my hips, sometimes my thighs.
2. My dad often confused my wardrobe for his.
3. I was blissfully over-weight and kept at it. (I still am fat but not very happy about it)
4. I had no idea eye-lash curlers, pimple zippers and nail filers existed. I had heard of lip-gloss though.
5. I wasn’t in a relationship with a computer screen.
6. My idea of fun was definitely not taking random quizzes on social networking systems (read: whatflavour ice- cream are u?, what Disney romance are u?). Even if I did take these tests, I wouldn’t have displayed my results. I had my pride.
7. If a boy I liked did not notice my new dress, it did not mean that he thought I was a pug-face. And it certainly was not the end of the world.
8. I wrestled boys and enjoyed it in a non-sexual way.
9. I only had one pair of shoes, in black so that they went with everything I owned.
10. I used to step out of the house with oil in my hair. Yes, I did.
11. I didn’t give a damn about a lottttt of things.
So there. What I would give to revert to my old self? Every bit of the very little I own today.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
A Walk To Remember
A waddle for a walk and an empty wallet describe me the best. The other day, I decided to take on the world on a pathetically empty wallet, not my first time. But I didn’t know what I was in for. I had rs. 16. 50 exactly in my pocket. That would more than cover my ride back home. I was happy and content. Then disaster struck. The boy called.
Now a bit of a background on the boy before I plunge into the unfortunate events that unfolded that day. He is a boy of a calm demeanour, with large brown eyes and a voice that makes me melt. He is in constant need of a shave. He can be funny when he doesn’t intend to be. He doesn’t wear a watch, hence never comes on time. If I offered him two identical apples, he wouldn’t know which to choose. This indecisiveness extends to almost every aspect of his life. He seldom takes me seriously. He thinks I’m remarkable.
So this boy called. Only to tell me that he urgently needs some money for his visa preparation. He was falling a few rupees short. To be precise, Rs. 20. He asked me to get the money. Now he’s in a far-flung place called Haji Ali. I know Mumbai as well as I know Macedonia, which isn’t much. So I ask him to come to matunga. This blighter comes, but in a cab, shelling Rs. 80 of the precious Rs. 180 that he has. Now he’s left with Rs. 100. add to it the Rs. 100 that I borrowed from my friend. That about covered his costs. But we were now left with only Es. 16.50 to travel to Haji Ali and then back home in Thane. Wow! I robbed a friend of Rs. 10 to fortify our resources further. So now its Rs. 26.50.
It was a hot day. I had spent the lectures in a stupor. I was looking forward to some fun with this very chap. Then what made me accompany him on this task? Well.. its as simple as this- I won all the thumb fights and most verbal battles but lost I my heart to him. I had pledged my love to this baffled little thing. He had my undying trust. And so on and so forth. In fact the only thing I didn’t do was write a love song and mail it to him on gaudy pink paper. So yeah.
As a mark of my undying love for the object of my affection, I accompanied him to the visa centre. We traveled to mahalakshmi using his smart card… so saved money there. On reaching mahalakshmi we realized we’d have to walk it out to the mahalakshmi temple where the office was as we didn’t have enough money for even a bus let alone a cab. We reasoned “mahalakshmi temple” would not be too far from “mahalakshmi station”. How wrong were we. So with the sun beating down on our poor backs, we started the 2km hike to the temple. My brave little knight offered to carry my bag. I readily rewarded his chivalry- by letting him carry it. Trudging along in the heat, dreaming of cool orange drinks and taxis, getting severely tanned in the process, we reached the dastardly office just in time. He got the work done quickly. These Rs. 200 would assure him a lounge service and a coffee and sandwich on the visa interview day. For this I walked for 40 minutes in the sun on an empty stomach. I congratulate myself on this sacrifice. Love has opened up the tender side in me.
Feeling dizzy with heat, we decided to wait for the bus, which, u guessed right, wouldn’t come. I was about to collapse and didn’t trust him to carry both me AND my bag home. So we decided to walk back. On the return trip we eyed a cucumber vendor. A big juicy cool cucumber for Rs. 5. We calculated. It left us with Rs. 16.50 for our bus trip back home. We needed rs.15. We decided to eat.
Being a student of microbiology, the vendor’s fingernails made me swoon. But hunger prevailed. I had a cucumber for lunch.
I don’t believe we walked the affluent streets of south Mumbai with under Rs. 20 in our pockets! What were we thinking! Never again! It would have been an adventure of sorts if I didn’t think I’d die of fatigue.
On reaching thane, and bickering about the other’s lack of sense, we made it to the bus-stop. In the bus, the conductor fixed me with a glare when I handed him Rs. 14 in modest denominations. I smiled apologetically. We could have been paupers! We managed to save Rs. 2.50 in the end! Kudos to us! I was happy to be home and slept like a log, not before replenishing my wallet for the next day.
What a day! It was meant to be an exciting one. We had made plans which I’m dissuaded from discussing on this blog. Well, we ended up subjecting ourselves to a possible cholera attack by drinking the water off a municipality (ahem) tap on parel station. Such is life..
I wont deny I had fun though. What more do u need when u have the company of your beloved? I would have eaten a thousand unwashed cucumbers for him! Besides I was glad I had proven my devotion to him by accompanying him on this perilous endeavour of obtaining the coffee coupons.
But life’s out to get me good. The very next day, in a quiet meeting, he decided to return my heart to me… with an apology. He’s yet to return the Rs. 100.
I smiled and waved as love hoodwinked me yet again. I hope he gets his visa.
Now a bit of a background on the boy before I plunge into the unfortunate events that unfolded that day. He is a boy of a calm demeanour, with large brown eyes and a voice that makes me melt. He is in constant need of a shave. He can be funny when he doesn’t intend to be. He doesn’t wear a watch, hence never comes on time. If I offered him two identical apples, he wouldn’t know which to choose. This indecisiveness extends to almost every aspect of his life. He seldom takes me seriously. He thinks I’m remarkable.
So this boy called. Only to tell me that he urgently needs some money for his visa preparation. He was falling a few rupees short. To be precise, Rs. 20. He asked me to get the money. Now he’s in a far-flung place called Haji Ali. I know Mumbai as well as I know Macedonia, which isn’t much. So I ask him to come to matunga. This blighter comes, but in a cab, shelling Rs. 80 of the precious Rs. 180 that he has. Now he’s left with Rs. 100. add to it the Rs. 100 that I borrowed from my friend. That about covered his costs. But we were now left with only Es. 16.50 to travel to Haji Ali and then back home in Thane. Wow! I robbed a friend of Rs. 10 to fortify our resources further. So now its Rs. 26.50.
It was a hot day. I had spent the lectures in a stupor. I was looking forward to some fun with this very chap. Then what made me accompany him on this task? Well.. its as simple as this- I won all the thumb fights and most verbal battles but lost I my heart to him. I had pledged my love to this baffled little thing. He had my undying trust. And so on and so forth. In fact the only thing I didn’t do was write a love song and mail it to him on gaudy pink paper. So yeah.
As a mark of my undying love for the object of my affection, I accompanied him to the visa centre. We traveled to mahalakshmi using his smart card… so saved money there. On reaching mahalakshmi we realized we’d have to walk it out to the mahalakshmi temple where the office was as we didn’t have enough money for even a bus let alone a cab. We reasoned “mahalakshmi temple” would not be too far from “mahalakshmi station”. How wrong were we. So with the sun beating down on our poor backs, we started the 2km hike to the temple. My brave little knight offered to carry my bag. I readily rewarded his chivalry- by letting him carry it. Trudging along in the heat, dreaming of cool orange drinks and taxis, getting severely tanned in the process, we reached the dastardly office just in time. He got the work done quickly. These Rs. 200 would assure him a lounge service and a coffee and sandwich on the visa interview day. For this I walked for 40 minutes in the sun on an empty stomach. I congratulate myself on this sacrifice. Love has opened up the tender side in me.
Feeling dizzy with heat, we decided to wait for the bus, which, u guessed right, wouldn’t come. I was about to collapse and didn’t trust him to carry both me AND my bag home. So we decided to walk back. On the return trip we eyed a cucumber vendor. A big juicy cool cucumber for Rs. 5. We calculated. It left us with Rs. 16.50 for our bus trip back home. We needed rs.15. We decided to eat.
Being a student of microbiology, the vendor’s fingernails made me swoon. But hunger prevailed. I had a cucumber for lunch.
I don’t believe we walked the affluent streets of south Mumbai with under Rs. 20 in our pockets! What were we thinking! Never again! It would have been an adventure of sorts if I didn’t think I’d die of fatigue.
On reaching thane, and bickering about the other’s lack of sense, we made it to the bus-stop. In the bus, the conductor fixed me with a glare when I handed him Rs. 14 in modest denominations. I smiled apologetically. We could have been paupers! We managed to save Rs. 2.50 in the end! Kudos to us! I was happy to be home and slept like a log, not before replenishing my wallet for the next day.
What a day! It was meant to be an exciting one. We had made plans which I’m dissuaded from discussing on this blog. Well, we ended up subjecting ourselves to a possible cholera attack by drinking the water off a municipality (ahem) tap on parel station. Such is life..
I wont deny I had fun though. What more do u need when u have the company of your beloved? I would have eaten a thousand unwashed cucumbers for him! Besides I was glad I had proven my devotion to him by accompanying him on this perilous endeavour of obtaining the coffee coupons.
But life’s out to get me good. The very next day, in a quiet meeting, he decided to return my heart to me… with an apology. He’s yet to return the Rs. 100.
I smiled and waved as love hoodwinked me yet again. I hope he gets his visa.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
GIMME A " C"
I miss Test cricket. I miss the days of intense action, smart strategy, backfiring of plans, suspended overnight drama, and after a hard-fought 5-day battle, there's victory- sweeter than the roses of Arabia, & there's defeat- more bitter than my granny's concoctions.
Now with T-20, cricket is a matter of a few hge hits into the stands and an occasional uprooted stump. No opportunity to build up a game plan and execute it. Its done with good intent, they say, it draws in the crowd. All said and done, the IPL has gone one step ahead and roped in the country's Big Daddies and put cricket up for sale. Mcgraths and Jayasuryas were bought, a cocktail of players mixed and served to us in tall glasses called Kolkata Knight Riders, Mumbai Indians, and some such cheesy names. The cocktails are zinged by the "song and dance" routine by the Bollywood Biggies wearing flaming helmets. but the crowning unbrellas for the cocktails are the cheerleaders.
The purpose defeats me. Let me make it clear that I have as much respect for a cheerleader as I do for a highly qualified software professional. They work very hard on their acrobatic skills and even harder to keep their lithe bodies in shape. But the fact remains that they are a vile indulgence in this scenario at least. Isnt Warnie's googly or Tendulkar's cover drive enough to get the Indian crowd on their feet? Dont they scream in glee everytime Gilly pulls one into the stands or when Akhtar leaves the stumps in disarray. Do they need scantily-clad girls shaking thier booties just to enjoy the game more? What works for a baseball match might not work for cricket.
On a more important note, semi-nudity in females is not taken kindly in India. A spat over this issue was expected. All the cheerleaders have managd to do is spiral the testosterone levels out of control. They are subjected to leers and jeers from a sex-starved crowd in a country where decency for females is held in the highest regards and never practiced. Before something untoward happens, its better to ship them back.
They might not seem to mind or even understand the vile innuendos they are subjected to, but they'll be doing cricket a big favour by sticking to baseball.
Now with T-20, cricket is a matter of a few hge hits into the stands and an occasional uprooted stump. No opportunity to build up a game plan and execute it. Its done with good intent, they say, it draws in the crowd. All said and done, the IPL has gone one step ahead and roped in the country's Big Daddies and put cricket up for sale. Mcgraths and Jayasuryas were bought, a cocktail of players mixed and served to us in tall glasses called Kolkata Knight Riders, Mumbai Indians, and some such cheesy names. The cocktails are zinged by the "song and dance" routine by the Bollywood Biggies wearing flaming helmets. but the crowning unbrellas for the cocktails are the cheerleaders.
The purpose defeats me. Let me make it clear that I have as much respect for a cheerleader as I do for a highly qualified software professional. They work very hard on their acrobatic skills and even harder to keep their lithe bodies in shape. But the fact remains that they are a vile indulgence in this scenario at least. Isnt Warnie's googly or Tendulkar's cover drive enough to get the Indian crowd on their feet? Dont they scream in glee everytime Gilly pulls one into the stands or when Akhtar leaves the stumps in disarray. Do they need scantily-clad girls shaking thier booties just to enjoy the game more? What works for a baseball match might not work for cricket.
On a more important note, semi-nudity in females is not taken kindly in India. A spat over this issue was expected. All the cheerleaders have managd to do is spiral the testosterone levels out of control. They are subjected to leers and jeers from a sex-starved crowd in a country where decency for females is held in the highest regards and never practiced. Before something untoward happens, its better to ship them back.
They might not seem to mind or even understand the vile innuendos they are subjected to, but they'll be doing cricket a big favour by sticking to baseball.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
the beach, filter coffee and a cigarette and half
Somehow...slouching, grouching, cursing, brooding...somehow.. i got through my exams. i dunno how i did it... but i did...and i should scrape through... like all the other times. Twice a year...for a full hour...God decides to shower me with his mercy.. the hour i spend standing in the line to get my results.
But now, with gel electrophoresis and protien purification behind me, the sewage water treatment all forgotten and stray bits of information about bacterial DNA (crammed desparately at 1 a.m.) wiped from my brain, i waited longingly for the beach that awaited me down south- a (much-deserved) weekend in surathkal.
i've been there before and fallen in love with the virgin beaches there....and they beckoned me yet again this year...and what power do i have against the will of the waves??? Abode to my best freind, mugdha, who (ahem) studies engineering there, living with her in her hostel was the best deal... using the bathrooms there wasnt. Living in a hostel comes with its own frills and filths. Electricity is rare, but u can roam in your underwear. No one takes out the garbage, but u can stay out as late as u wish and... ah.. do as u please.
The minute i reached there, i wanted to go to the heavenly beaches. I browbeat mugs and her freinds to take me and finally, in the evening we made out way through a temple to a cliff which overlooked the beach. i know ur waiting for this part...the part where i describe the beach...but sorry to disappoint u.. it was indescribable. Its not just the beauty of the crystal blue waters lovingly eroding the fine white sand...or the pinkish glow that the setting sun castes on the farway sea...or the tiny ships spotting the golden horizon. Its more about the emotions the view stirs in u... the soothing effect it has on ur mind that gently detangles u from the clump of worries and sets u free and flying... just like the seagulls... I felt a strange calm descend over me as i sat there with my freinds.. not a word passed between us till we realised that we've been locked in this blessed enchantment... thts where my love affair with the beach began...
the rest of the trip was fantabulous too! I met up with all of mugdha's freinds and had a good time with them... walked into the boys' hostel and gave them all a fright...saw everybody's underwears...invaded their beer cartons (they were nice about it)...but admittedly their rooms were cleaner than the girls'!!!!
Ate a lot of icecream, but no dosas :( ... got drenched in the rain (dint intend too...hate the rains... had to cancel my trip to manglore :( ...) and...much to the dismay of mugsy.. ACTUALLY for the first time, smoked a cigarette...
i made DD ( absolutely delightful chap.. cnt help falling in love with him.. god bless him) take me smoking. That darling coulnt refuse.. not even under the baleful eye of mugdha... and so sam, DD, reddy (who doesnt smoke), and I went to this shack for a smoke and some coffee... finally i learnt how to properly smoke (yay!),.. and goodness me.. it hit me like booze! Reddy had an amused expression on his face... DD seemed reluctant to let me smoke another...but we shared the second one....thn had some hot coffee...in the cold rains... and another check on my list of to-do things before- i -die!!!!
well.. so much for the fun i had smoking! mugdha wouldnt talk to me...gave me all killer glares... and had to batttle her acid tongue for the remainder of the day... she took the fizz out of it man!!!! party-pooper!!!!
but i have been thinking...i dont feel like arousing mugsy's anger again... and i did promise her i'll never smoke... and i also promised ameya (the atheist) that i wont a year ago, varun too quit and has been advising me against trying twice...and the man-with-the-brown-curtains thinks i shouldnt indulge in it...well.. ok... i wont... i'll choose the sea over a cig...now mugdha has to find a new reason to be subject me to her awesome wrath...
with one last look at the sea and a collective farewell to all....including julio,(or however its
spelt), the african student who ceaselessly hit on the mediocre me (think of the sorry state of guys there), i came back to aamchi mumbai... the visions of the sea locked safely in an often-visited corner of my mind.
peace.
But now, with gel electrophoresis and protien purification behind me, the sewage water treatment all forgotten and stray bits of information about bacterial DNA (crammed desparately at 1 a.m.) wiped from my brain, i waited longingly for the beach that awaited me down south- a (much-deserved) weekend in surathkal.
i've been there before and fallen in love with the virgin beaches there....and they beckoned me yet again this year...and what power do i have against the will of the waves??? Abode to my best freind, mugdha, who (ahem) studies engineering there, living with her in her hostel was the best deal... using the bathrooms there wasnt. Living in a hostel comes with its own frills and filths. Electricity is rare, but u can roam in your underwear. No one takes out the garbage, but u can stay out as late as u wish and... ah.. do as u please.
The minute i reached there, i wanted to go to the heavenly beaches. I browbeat mugs and her freinds to take me and finally, in the evening we made out way through a temple to a cliff which overlooked the beach. i know ur waiting for this part...the part where i describe the beach...but sorry to disappoint u.. it was indescribable. Its not just the beauty of the crystal blue waters lovingly eroding the fine white sand...or the pinkish glow that the setting sun castes on the farway sea...or the tiny ships spotting the golden horizon. Its more about the emotions the view stirs in u... the soothing effect it has on ur mind that gently detangles u from the clump of worries and sets u free and flying... just like the seagulls... I felt a strange calm descend over me as i sat there with my freinds.. not a word passed between us till we realised that we've been locked in this blessed enchantment... thts where my love affair with the beach began...
the rest of the trip was fantabulous too! I met up with all of mugdha's freinds and had a good time with them... walked into the boys' hostel and gave them all a fright...saw everybody's underwears...invaded their beer cartons (they were nice about it)...but admittedly their rooms were cleaner than the girls'!!!!
Ate a lot of icecream, but no dosas :( ... got drenched in the rain (dint intend too...hate the rains... had to cancel my trip to manglore :( ...) and...much to the dismay of mugsy.. ACTUALLY for the first time, smoked a cigarette...
i made DD ( absolutely delightful chap.. cnt help falling in love with him.. god bless him) take me smoking. That darling coulnt refuse.. not even under the baleful eye of mugdha... and so sam, DD, reddy (who doesnt smoke), and I went to this shack for a smoke and some coffee... finally i learnt how to properly smoke (yay!),.. and goodness me.. it hit me like booze! Reddy had an amused expression on his face... DD seemed reluctant to let me smoke another...but we shared the second one....thn had some hot coffee...in the cold rains... and another check on my list of to-do things before- i -die!!!!
well.. so much for the fun i had smoking! mugdha wouldnt talk to me...gave me all killer glares... and had to batttle her acid tongue for the remainder of the day... she took the fizz out of it man!!!! party-pooper!!!!
but i have been thinking...i dont feel like arousing mugsy's anger again... and i did promise her i'll never smoke... and i also promised ameya (the atheist) that i wont a year ago, varun too quit and has been advising me against trying twice...and the man-with-the-brown-curtains thinks i shouldnt indulge in it...well.. ok... i wont... i'll choose the sea over a cig...now mugdha has to find a new reason to be subject me to her awesome wrath...
with one last look at the sea and a collective farewell to all....including julio,(or however its
spelt), the african student who ceaselessly hit on the mediocre me (think of the sorry state of guys there), i came back to aamchi mumbai... the visions of the sea locked safely in an often-visited corner of my mind.
peace.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
poetry blues....
The moonlight filters into the cell,
The air is pungent, scarce
It falls on a figure bound in chains,
His face a wretched mask.
A shadow of life lurks behind
His sunken, dead eyes;
Evidence of a life once so good:
And then the happiness dies.
Oh what was he thinking when he cradled
The weapons in his arms; the nineteen year old,
Could he blame it on the crassness of youth
Or was it just his soiled soul?
An insurgent speech by a man of strength,
And he let humanity melt.
He poisoned his insides with wrath and hate
And the injustice he now felt.
His hands never trembled as he hid,
The bomb in midst of a mob:
He was noe completely one with the evil
Undeterred by the innocent call.
As he lies in his dingy cell today
Self hatred fills his heart.
He claimed far too many lives;
There shall be no fresh start
The door creaks open; its death’s call
They lift him on his feet.
In one weak moment he thinks of his bride
And their child he shall never see
The chains dragging behind him,
The remnants of his wasted life,
He bends the final curve.
He bows his head and begs for mercy
He knows he doesnt deserve.
The moonlight filters into the cell,
The air is pungent, scarce
It falls on a figure bound in chains,
His face a wretched mask.
A shadow of life lurks behind
His sunken, dead eyes;
Evidence of a life once so good:
And then the happiness dies.
Oh what was he thinking when he cradled
The weapons in his arms; the nineteen year old,
Could he blame it on the crassness of youth
Or was it just his soiled soul?
An insurgent speech by a man of strength,
And he let humanity melt.
He poisoned his insides with wrath and hate
And the injustice he now felt.
His hands never trembled as he hid,
The bomb in midst of a mob:
He was noe completely one with the evil
Undeterred by the innocent call.
As he lies in his dingy cell today
Self hatred fills his heart.
He claimed far too many lives;
There shall be no fresh start
The door creaks open; its death’s call
They lift him on his feet.
In one weak moment he thinks of his bride
And their child he shall never see
The chains dragging behind him,
The remnants of his wasted life,
He bends the final curve.
He bows his head and begs for mercy
He knows he doesnt deserve.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Farewell Gilly
Dearest Adam,
A brimming SCG on a typically sticky Sydney afternoon; drums and hooters in place; beers spilling; banners galore; men with chests painted yellow annd women in the negligible best. the pavillion doors open and two emnclad in yellow run out- one an almost elephantine figure, the other smaller (in comparison: wen i say elephantine i mean it) more fidgety, almost hidden behind the larger of the two profiles. And the stadium erupts in welome. This is how i'll always remember u Adam- running out into the lush green with the meaty hayden to spell doom for the opposition.
You are one of a kind Churchie. No one else can quite step into your shoes. The void u left after you retired will always remain. No one hits the ball as sweetly and at the same time as ruthlessly as you did. You'll be remembered as the most cavalier batsmen of all times. Your cover drives were a treat to the eyes, your straight drives drew tremendous applause. I'm sure ur ( almost )
supercilious batting still gives nightmares to bowlers worldwide. No one bothers to run after the ball once its kissed your bat: its a matter of formality. Your hook and pull shots were to die for. You were one of those hard-hitters who did it with elan. sigh... i wish u didnt have to go....
When you were behind the stumps you were often airborne... diving and jumping fantastically. your success while keeping for a bowler like Warnie, who spun the ball like a yarn, is what makes u arguably the besy wicket-keeper to ever have playes this noble game.
Your talent with the bat was complemented by your honesty that shone through your game. If u thought u were out, u walked. As simple as that. How many batsmen today show that kind of integrity? Thats why i say gilly...ur irreplacable.
You were an integral part of Australia's succes, their secret ingredient of dominanc. But their arrogance was in sharp contrast to your freindliness ; your child-like smile, your open laugh warmed their cold streak. You were the shining beacon of honesty in a team plagued with players who think cheating and distasteful mindgames are a norm in the game.
Your dedication to the" baggy green"(which was adorned by your shaving cream, copious amounts of sweat and, god help me, stray peices of gum!!!) was seen through every single time you played.
Even off-field you are a gentleman through and through. great players all over the world love and respect u. They respect you for ur honesty and talent, they love you for your generosity and kind heart. When you are not playing cricket, you willingly spend time with orphaned kids in under-developed countries, You are the ambassador of World Vision, working tirelessly with them to help adoption of poor kids. You yourself have adopted two kids- a gesture that stems from a person, who, in the heart of hearts, is a child himself. You support Mcgrath's cancer institute for children in australia. You help raise funds for the underprevileged in other countries, u spend time with them whenever u can. Why do u even need to do this leaving asside your comfortable life? The answer lies in your unconditional goodness...
bubbly and effervescent, loving and freindly, ever-smiling, a true family man an aset to the game and a hero to australia. i will sorely miss u gilly. with a tear that i cant hold back, i wave a final goodbye.
love,
madhura
A brimming SCG on a typically sticky Sydney afternoon; drums and hooters in place; beers spilling; banners galore; men with chests painted yellow annd women in the negligible best. the pavillion doors open and two emnclad in yellow run out- one an almost elephantine figure, the other smaller (in comparison: wen i say elephantine i mean it) more fidgety, almost hidden behind the larger of the two profiles. And the stadium erupts in welome. This is how i'll always remember u Adam- running out into the lush green with the meaty hayden to spell doom for the opposition.
You are one of a kind Churchie. No one else can quite step into your shoes. The void u left after you retired will always remain. No one hits the ball as sweetly and at the same time as ruthlessly as you did. You'll be remembered as the most cavalier batsmen of all times. Your cover drives were a treat to the eyes, your straight drives drew tremendous applause. I'm sure ur ( almost )
supercilious batting still gives nightmares to bowlers worldwide. No one bothers to run after the ball once its kissed your bat: its a matter of formality. Your hook and pull shots were to die for. You were one of those hard-hitters who did it with elan. sigh... i wish u didnt have to go....
When you were behind the stumps you were often airborne... diving and jumping fantastically. your success while keeping for a bowler like Warnie, who spun the ball like a yarn, is what makes u arguably the besy wicket-keeper to ever have playes this noble game.
Your talent with the bat was complemented by your honesty that shone through your game. If u thought u were out, u walked. As simple as that. How many batsmen today show that kind of integrity? Thats why i say gilly...ur irreplacable.
You were an integral part of Australia's succes, their secret ingredient of dominanc. But their arrogance was in sharp contrast to your freindliness ; your child-like smile, your open laugh warmed their cold streak. You were the shining beacon of honesty in a team plagued with players who think cheating and distasteful mindgames are a norm in the game.
Your dedication to the" baggy green"(which was adorned by your shaving cream, copious amounts of sweat and, god help me, stray peices of gum!!!) was seen through every single time you played.
Even off-field you are a gentleman through and through. great players all over the world love and respect u. They respect you for ur honesty and talent, they love you for your generosity and kind heart. When you are not playing cricket, you willingly spend time with orphaned kids in under-developed countries, You are the ambassador of World Vision, working tirelessly with them to help adoption of poor kids. You yourself have adopted two kids- a gesture that stems from a person, who, in the heart of hearts, is a child himself. You support Mcgrath's cancer institute for children in australia. You help raise funds for the underprevileged in other countries, u spend time with them whenever u can. Why do u even need to do this leaving asside your comfortable life? The answer lies in your unconditional goodness...
bubbly and effervescent, loving and freindly, ever-smiling, a true family man an aset to the game and a hero to australia. i will sorely miss u gilly. with a tear that i cant hold back, i wave a final goodbye.
love,
madhura
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
know the buzz tht fills ur mind wen u desperately want it to come up wid smthng and all u get is buzzzzzz....like a beehive's exploded?..well, its the other way round for me at the moment...i want my mind to be empty and its filled wid buzz.. thts annoyingly loud and despairingly continuous.
thts coz too many things are happening to me tht i'd rather distribute over 70 years... and all of thm bad...maybe i should take raghu's advice and check my horoscope... or rather first start believing in horoscopes and thn start checking mine...alignment problems, ive often heard thm announce. yeah thts rite...i'm meeting rascals who fool around with my feelings, play about wid my emotions, take me for a 2 week ride and dump me like a rotting bone coz saturn crashed into pluto and disturbed the 75 degree angle its supposed to make wid ... lets say... mercury.
bummer!
and with all this i'm expected to finish studying for one lab exam, and the finals loom large...guess i'll sign off... the buzzing's back... blogging getting difficult.. buzzzzz....cya buggers... buzzzzz... the end... buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
thts coz too many things are happening to me tht i'd rather distribute over 70 years... and all of thm bad...maybe i should take raghu's advice and check my horoscope... or rather first start believing in horoscopes and thn start checking mine...alignment problems, ive often heard thm announce. yeah thts rite...i'm meeting rascals who fool around with my feelings, play about wid my emotions, take me for a 2 week ride and dump me like a rotting bone coz saturn crashed into pluto and disturbed the 75 degree angle its supposed to make wid ... lets say... mercury.
bummer!
and with all this i'm expected to finish studying for one lab exam, and the finals loom large...guess i'll sign off... the buzzing's back... blogging getting difficult.. buzzzzz....cya buggers... buzzzzz... the end... buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
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