Friday, April 25, 2008

The Obituary...

It was fun when it all began
Fresh-faced teens on a red-brick background
He spotted her wearing a green pince-nez
And thought to himself 'what a snob!'

A month was all it took for pride and prejudice to deconstruct
As he decided to play Antony; she Cleopatra
Through the initial rough and tumble he survived
But the seeds of his hamartia had already been sown...

She came to him soon enough
And there were two hearts beating as one
She was his first love
And the world was full of Dutch tulips...

Iagos abound in this world, so he found out soon
But who was to blame but himself?
Like the old ram, he had dug his own grave
And, Peripeteia occured...

She left him for another, he wrote
And engulfed himself in love of the Red
She had indeed moved on, hated him
And there was no contact...

It was histriomania that landed them back in a room
He apologised, she forgave him
But reserved judgment on his past
The quest for redemption had begun...

He tried to bide his time
He tried to be her friend
He tried to pry her loose
But knew, it was a losing battle...

A sudden swing in fortunes
And he was back in the running
Maybe the Old Man had something to do with it
But he would never know...

They drifted apart and floated together
Grew up into the twenties
His heart still had a reservation for one
She was destined for bigger things...

One day, the break came
The least he could do was say goodbye
'Be cheerful sir, our revels now are ended'
And that was the end...

Or maybe not, for she still cared for him
Called him up one fine morning
Reestablished the connection that should've been left broken
And up went his hopes again...

But she had moved on again
And that left his journey for redemption unfinished
Till the next break happened
Which took another bit of him away...

He was finally the man she would've wanted him to be
But alas! She wasn't there to see
The knight was riding in shining armour
To hide, perchance, or put up a front...

And yet again, that primitive form of communication popped up
Telepathy, destiny, fate - it has many names
But this time he was firm in resolve
And managed to put it across to her...

I want you to know it's a little fucked up,
That I'm stuck here waitin', no longer debatin',
Tired of sittin' and hatin' and makin' these excuses,
For why you're not around, and feeling so useless,

It seems one thing has been true all along,
You don't really know what you've got 'til it's gone,
I guess I've had it with you and your career,
When you come back I won't be here and you can sing...

Where'd you go?
I miss you so,
Seems like it's been forever,
That you've been gone. "

That was when he breathed his last, that man
It was as if a debt had been paid
He could finally breathe easy
Easy come, easy go...

He had forgotten that he was Faustus
The man who had sold his soul to Lucifer
Mephisto came to him and said
'Its time, my friend...'

Wander the depths, Faustus
Find solace, if not redemption...
For thou hast left and gone to hell
And I wish thee a warmer Farewell...

They say Beelzebub is a benefactor
Not the Fair Lord up above
May the fire not singe thy coat of fur
But even if it does,
'habit is a great deadener...'

Friday, April 04, 2008

Let the Madness Begin!

And so after all the hype, the hoopla, the drama, the gazillion dollars, and everything else that spells P-O-M-P under the sun, the Indian Premier League will finally get underway on April 18. Now, call me a traditionalist, but I tend to think that Test Cricket is being violated, nay, slow-poisoned by all these upstart T20 tournaments. Be it the OFFICIAL one or the REBEL ICL, what with the high-bass music, the dancing babes, or the handsome hits to- and over-the-fence, the traditional straight bat has been chucked out of the window overlooking the ocean... (Read: 'has been left to sink')

Come to think of it, THIS, my dear reader, is the evolution that Darwin talked about... How an old species has to adapt to changing conditions or else, face extinction... It remains to be seen whether Test cricket, the true test of strength and character, turns out to be a Dinosaur...

* * * * * *

But then again, the show must go on... And the show, undoubtedly, is Twenty20 cricket... Blessed be the Englishman who invented the game of cricket, and blessed be the other one who thought of this ridiculous idea to shorten the game to 20-overs-a-side. Doesn't seem too ridiculous, does it now, especially with Lalit Modi at the helm? Here's some food for thought for those who call the IPL a waste of time/money/talent... Would Vijay Mallya invest his millions in a doomed project? Uh-huh, sonny boy, I DONT THINK SO!

The best part about the ICL/IPL concept is actually borrowed from the Americans - the concept of city-centered franchises and the rivalry between them... This is a concept that actually polarizes the urban audience as per their geographic allegiance, which, if my reading of human history is correct, has been the reason for the 2nd highest number of wars in history (the 1st being ofcourse, religion). This helps generate more interest, brings out the performer in every player, and also makes an outsider playing for the team more selfless - since he plays for the AUDIENCE and their energy... THE FAN IS KING!

And what the teams have realized is that sports are for young people... Their marketing strategies are centered around colloquial usages, and packages that would attract the youth. SRK's proclamation of KORBO, LORBO, JEETBO for his Kolkata Knightriders franchise was the seminal moment, when the IPL brigade went under-25. Its all about the Passion, it really is...

Passion is, ofcourse, where DADA is... Mr. Sourav Chandidas Ganguly, the man who wore his heart on his sleeve as captain, the one who defined a generation of Indian cricket... Add to that, the passion of Shah Rukh Khan, the Mark Cuban of IPL, throw in the glut of talent, and what you have is a team worthy of a fan-following, even before a ball has been bowled...


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