Cricket and All That: April 2015

Food for thought from my Chhote Mamma, Dr Nadeem Mohsin.....

If there is one thing an earthquake reminds us of, it is how fragile this life is. And how connected we are as a world family. The tectonic plates don't care about the boundaries we draw over Mother Earth. To think that in just a split second, this reality we have built up around us can be destroyed, is a humbling thought. If today were the last day of our lives, would each one of us be truly content with who we ARE within? If not, it is time to start working towards becoming the persons we want to be. Not so much in terms of professions and designations, but as people - as living, breathing manifestations of soul energy.

Sending thoughts of peace and prayer to those affected by the earthquake in North India and Nepal..

We fight for property amongst our relatives and friends,

Slog for more income, high end car and work for luxurious lifestyle!!

But with y'day's experience one should realize that these things are just material and for a short time!!

The earthquake could've destroyed us all in seconds.

No doctors, lawyers, ministers, gurus, or richest of the rich people could have saved us.

In short none can be spared from the wrath of God.

Let's pray to the Almighty and thank Him for saving us all.🙏🙏🙏

I wrote this piece in 1996 just before the Indian Team led by Sachin Tendulkar was to go on a tour of the West Indies. This is the series in which Navjot Sidhu scored a double hundred. (In those days Sidhu let his bat do the talking -:) )

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Sunny Days

As the Indian Cricket Team embarks on the tour of the West Indies, I am reminded of my childhood days. It was the winter of 1983.All my cousins had come over to spend the holidays in at our house (with my Grandfather as the head of the family) in Kanke, on the outskirts of the city of Ranchi (now capital of the state of Jharkhand and famous the world over now as the place where Mahendra Singh Dhoni comes from).

This was more of a farmhouse with a big orchard and surrounded by huge 'maidaans'. There was a river and a pond nearby as well.In the distance you could see the outlines of hills. It was quite picturesque. Moreover in my Grandfather we had the ideal master of the house who loved to see children playing and enjoying themselves.

It so happened that winter that the mighty West Indian Cricket Team was touring India. India having won the World Cup just a few months back (a huge upset win in the Finals against West Indies), cricket fever was at was at its height among us. This West Indian Team is widely considered as one of the best in the history of the game. The loss to India in the World Cup Final was a blot to their great record which they wanted to erase in this series. They were thirsty for revenge and this promised to be a super series.

We were bitten by the Cricket bug. The Transistor (small portable Radio) became our prized possession. (TV had not yet reached small town Ranchi). We followed virtually every ball of the 6 Test Series via the radio commentary.

In the 'maidaans' outside our house, our own game of Cricket would be going on the whole day. The Transistor would be hung on the 'Shareefa' tree a safe distance behind the wicket keeper with the volume turned on full. We would try to recreate the same scene in our game as the one being described by the commentators in the actual Test Match. The fastest bowler in our game would be christened 'Marshall' (even though this guy's speed would be less than half that of the lightening Malcolm Marshall !!).

We also had Richards, Gavaskar, Lloyd, Kapil and Holding in our team !! In fact the names changed with the performances in the actual Test. If Jeffery Dujon (the Windies wicketkeeper batsman), happened to make a hundred, then the chap in our team who laid claim to being 'Richards' a mere 24 hours back, would hurriedly change his name to 'Dujon'.

If Dileep Vengsarkar happened to hook a Marshall bouncer to the fence (a rare feat against the rampaging Marshall), the batsman in our match would halt the proceedings, would request the bowler to bowl something similar, and would take great pride in hitting it a la Vengsarkar.

One of my cousins Anwar (now a doctor settled in Dallas, Texas), who had come from America, was bewildered by all this hullabaloo about a game called Cricket. To fit him in the Team, we made him the wicket keeper.

In the nights, we would deliberate on the state of the actual Test Match. The million dollor question was, would Marshall allow Gavaskar to break Don Bradman's record of Test centuries. We discussed whether the Indian batsman even saw the ball once it left Marshall's hand !! These discussions would spill over on the dinner table. The grown-ups (especially my grandfather) wondered at our cricket-mania. My grandfather would joke that all of us have been afflicted by a disease called 'Cricketia' and even prescribed a cure. 'Burn a cricket ball and drink the ashes with water !!'. We were not at all amused by this suggestion, since we couldn't insult the main constituent of the game, the ball, by burning it.

We could hardly imagine life without Cricket.

Not much has changed since that winter in 1983. I am happy to report that I have not been able to find any cure for this disease 'Cricketia', and I am now resigned to live my entire life with it !!

About Me

When I was a Bachelor Boy

Dhoni & Ranchi

Papa - Grandfather

Aahistaa Ladiss...Patla Ladiss and Other Stories

Sunny Days

The Day I Slipped Out of my Office to visit Lord's

When I was a Bachelor Boy

My Favourite Cricketers - Viv Richards

Sehwag : Part Sublime, Part Ridiculous, Simply Unforgettable

Tendulkar Tales

Dadagiri - Sourav Ganguly Tales