Give us raw emotion, stripped of commercialisation

As I watched Sourav Ganguly’s instinctual celebrations after he had cleaned up Kevin Pietersen on Saturday, I realised for the first time I was paying the game my full, undivided attention. I was fascinated to see whether Dada would be able to conjure up another win for his team, the blue shades of Pune Warriors’ kit reminiscent of the colours of the national team he had led not too many summers ago. Not the cheerleaders, not the frills, but pure cricketing emotion, stripped naked of all commercialisation, caught my attention. Is this what the IPL needs to be relevant ten years from now?
As ratings for the mega-extravaganza continue to dip, it doesn't need Twenty20 mercenaries showing up for the various franchises. It doesn't need Navjot Sidhu's poetry coupled with the on-cue gyrations of cheerleaders in the pre-match show studio. What the IPL needs is that raw emotion, like that showcased by Ganguly in Delhi. And this is something that can't be bought at an auction.
Earlier, there might have been a connect people felt with the teams. People tuned in to watch Kolkata Knight Riders v Mumbai Indians because they wanted to see Ganguly and Sachin Tendulkar battling it out against each other. People might do the same now, for a Pune Warriors v Rajasthan Royals game. But the IPL cannot lean on familiarity anymore in order to survive. We are not likely to see Ganguly or Rahul Dravid here next year. Tendulkar might carry on for another year. VVS Laxman and Anil Kumble are already gone.

To have a chance of surviving in the absence of these cricketing icons, the IPL needs characters who have a spark in them, who compete as if it there is no tomorrow. Manchester United has millions of fans all over the world, not because it is a rich club. It is because when the team plays, there is an unbridled passion that just spills over. They keep reinventing smartly, bringing in players who might not be the most talented in the world but, when they are playing together, they are like a pack of lions.
The crowds that throng into the stadiums in thousands, the TV viewers who tune in in millions are not drawn to wealth. They are mostly the middle class who slog all week, not prima donnas looking for obscene displays of riches when they watch a cricket match. What they need are moments like what Ganguly produced that night against Delhi Daredevils.
So what is it the current lot of teams to do to stay in business? First, separate the owners from the cricket team. Let the cricketers do what they do best without being continuously reminded of who 'owns' them. Shah Rukh Khan, with all due respect, should not be what Kolkata Knight Riders stands for. Similarly, the Ambanis should not define Mumbai Indians. The IPL owners might genuinely be interested in cricket, but they have to treat it as a business and steer clear from the limelight.
Second, the teams should stand for something specific, and they need to buy players accordingly – they need to create brand recognition, if you will. Case in point: Daredevils have a battery of fast bowlers capable of holding their own against international batting line-ups. They have to make sure their image remains the same for the seasons that follow. They also have to select players and advertise accordingly. Similarly, Rajasthan Royals have consistently turned out teams of limited talent but unlimited grit, and need to maintain this identity. Constant reshuffling without a common thread turns viewers off and decreases market value of the team. Every IPL team needs to employ scouts who scour the country players who ‘fit the team’ instead of just buying players who are the flavour of the season – Mumbai Indians’ procurement of Richard Levi comes to mind.
I am not a cynic and I wish the IPL well. It is not an original idea (as Lalit Modi would have everyone believe) but it is a good one. It has the potential to expand the game of cricket across the globe. There is a market for cricket, especially Twenty20s, and the possibilities are endless. However, the owners need to take it upon themselves to be smart and plan smart. If they can do that, the game will be better off and, yes, they could be rich beyond their dreams. Just ask Malcolm Glazer. Malcolm who? Malcolm, the owner of Manchester United FC, the most popular football club in the world.

Venom

I hate your fuckin soul, more than I hate myself.
My dark heart full of disdain,
Smokin away the pain,
Raging like a monster chained to itself.

I am shattered, the torture is overwhelming.
This is no drama,
What I felt was infinite trauma,
My hands are cut, oh god stop this suffering.

Villainy, be my only companion.
Rife with malcontent is this mind,
I swear I will kill anyone unkind,
The Satan will be my only scion.

I am nothing, but that is today.
There is so much strife.
In the end your throat will feel my knife.
Till then, let the monster sleep another day.

....Wash dishes and still smile....

I fear stagnation. I cannot imagine a lifetime slipping by without change. Good changes, preferrably life changing ones. The thing with good changes is, you can identify them but it's much harder to put it in practice. This is where I feel habit is such a wonderful thing. Especially for people like me who are restless all the time. Habits help me implement the changes I identify. It really is like mathematical induction. Identify, repeat, repeat some more, and there you go, 2-3 weeks later it becomes like reflex, kind of like a theorem which can be proved.
Believe it or not, I realized this while washing dishes. I doubt there are many people who enjoy this activity. It might well be one of the major causes of couples arguing and fighting. I have identified two emotions which make washing dishes not enjoyable. Pride and Sloth. Sometimes, people are too proud to do it and other times they are too lazy. Questions are raised: "Why can't she do it? I don't have time. There are other things I need to worry about."
That, my friend, is bullcrap. You are too proud. Other times it goes like this: "I want to get to it. But my sinus is acting up. I will get to it tomorrow, for sure." Guess what, that's bullcrap again. You are just too lazy for your own good. You could ignore the truth or accept it but it is what it is. On top of that, I am also the SME on dishwashing.
We can really expand this concept to many things. Pride and Sloth hurt us so many times. Time and again, we fight and get angry, smash windows, become indifferent and well, stagnate. I do not want to stagnate. Hence, identify, repeat, and repeat some more, voila! You might end up becoming calmer and really happy. Because once we know, once we can make sense, it is easy.
Mathemtical induction, thanks.

A morning to remember

Scene 1 :

The turbulent winds roared angrily at the world. Water had frozen into small puddles of frosty ice. The sky was hazy and clouds seemed to be losing the battle with the rampant wind, scurrying for cover.It was seven in the morning and the small town of Cornelia in Georgia was witnessing one of its coldest mornings.

The downside was I needed to walk half a mile to my office. Now, don't get me wrong, half a mile is not a lot, and I am not pretending to make this a big deal, but hey, I was in the danger of being blown away much farther than half a mile.

I had two options: call or fold. I have this tendency to deal with life situations as if it were a poker bet. Calling here would mean walking the half mile and folding would mean calling the guy. Now I was feeling adventurous. Biggest mistake of my life. You know what I did, so let's cut to the walk.


Scene 2:

There was one more thing. My brother left his hairspray at my place. Of course, I needed to try that out. Bad idea again ( This meant I did not cover my head ). As I started walking, I realized I was not feeling cold.I was on fire. Cold, icy winds blasted on my face with no mercy and my glasses ( along with my eyes ) started to water.

It was a weird time to be philosophical, but then philosophy itself is weird at so many levels. The optimist inside me kicked up and for once, the conditions did not matter. I had a great family, a decent job and awesome friends to hang out with.
I looked at the entourage of cars zooming by and noticed that all the people looked at me with a sense of bewilderment. I don't blame them, a guy wearing a business suit and gelled up hair walking in the cold makes for an interesting viewing.

Halfway down the road, something funny happened to my ears.


Scene 3:

It began with an eerie hollowness enveloping my generously wide ear canals. But the end was near, I had almost made it. Somehow, wishful thinking was no longer as soothing as before. I hastened my pace and undoubtedly looked more peculiar. Only this time, my brain was too busy processing the inordinate pain to care.
And then, when I was almost at the cusp of howling out my miserable state to all and sundry, the marathon ended. I made it to the safety of my office. The hollowness of my ear canals phased out into something warm.

Peace had come to earth. Or so I thought. Suddenly, my friend barged in and exclaimed " Howdy, Howdy, how are ya doin ? " My face had three vertical columns of thin ice swiftly melting into water and I was flushing red.
His radiating countenance transformed into an admonishing stare and out came the words which were secretly tormenting me the whole walk : " Why didn't you give me a call? "


All in all, a very interesting start to my week.