Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Grounded At The Lord's Game

Sometime back I got into a directionless debate with a friend of mine, AG. For the sake of few juvenile friends, me and AG both often have to grind pompous topics together, topics that don't really relate well :-) AG is great guy to be around with, the one with whom you can argue endlessly without bothering who is right or wrong. And that goes in everything.
Here's what we were conspiring:

AG: Yeh icerocket kya hai.... ICeRoCKET mein bhi mujhe sada hua cricket dikhta hai ;) [referring to the lesser known website: icerocket.com; and that hidden in these words is that bogus game of Cricket. He hates Cricket, maybe more than cockroaches, or maybe more than the dirty nose-hairs too]

Me: Cricket sada hua hoga tere liye. Huh [Cricket will be BS for you only.]

AG: Cricket leads to lower productivity for this country... Had people be not as fanatic about cricket as they are...India would have had higher GDP and better per capita income.. And the people would be more competitive with the rest of the world. It also leads to more divide in the country...esp after IPL...as if the country wasn't fragmented enough...It's such a sad sight to see flocking around electronic shops and putting a pause to their work. Ban cricket :) Isliye mein cricket nahi dekhta...(That's why I don't follow Cricket). Maybe we can have this as a debate topic next session ;)

Me: Thou shal be hobbled with chains and inflicted at the Gates of Sepulchura that opens up the dreaded Hell, to let know all the cursed, incarcerated witches of perdition present there -- of what a grave transgression thou had committed once, against humanity and all its followers, against the pantheons of faith -- by denouncing something as gentlemanly and as divine as the Holy Cricket itself...Amen. Truth shal behold.

AG: Don't think I got scared after your mail last evening or that I had a new-found-affinity for cricket ;)

Me: I know I know, you've no dread whatsoever for your reprehensible act of denunciation against that Holy Spirit's Game...May all the world's cricket-lover's cuss afflict you till your last cry of mercy. Amen.

AG: All holy things in this world suck... that's why they exclaim... Holy shit or Holy crap...

Me: Poor boy thou are ill-omened with a sullied eye in this pure virginal Holy world...that's why thou reckon that all of it sucks...Lord bless.

AG: And God said...Let there be light...But poor god didn't realize that people would shut their eyes on seeing the light. Hence the blind refer to the world as "pure virginal Holy world" Then god created hope (a four lettered word)... So that people keep hoping that lord would bless the world some day. Alas! Even the lord knows that he will never bless the world; but its a good ego-massage for him when people exclaim, "Lord bless"...

And if only could people realize that light deceives as much as it evinces... as much as it blazes shamelessly.
And if only could they sense the stipples and reflections of their mental eye too... eyes that could actually dream. Unparalleled.
And if only could they come out of their fatalist mindset to rediscover most of the things 'taught' to them, which they never quite really explored themselves...
And if only could they learn to etch away the impassioned dogma their mundane routines are moored to... from the hopeless hope to the overflowing ego.
And if only could they leave aside, for a moment, their crusty cynic sense of scrutiny for all that they care enough about...
Then only...the Good Lord proclaimed -- the people shall see -- a "pure virginal Holy world" -- in even the flip of a bee's wings, or in the wisps of smoke, or in the blindness of a thunder-lightnings...Amen.

Pretty mindless those statements are. Forget them. So yesterday Pakistan won the T20 World Championship. I'm low I badly wanted it to be Sri Lanka. However, come to think of it. A nation with a tottering democracy, leaving its home soil behind, looking down upon the world's best-of-the-best wholesomely, managed to lift the heavy cup at -- the Lord's. Even the words tend to arrange themselves mystically sometimes.
When the distrusted countrymen get even a single bright day to stand up high, to cheer out loud with a collective smile -- then, in a sweeping flash, it rubs off every little blight of anarchism, of failing nation-leaders. Just like the god's whispering in your dreams at night -- for the more religious among us, whispering a hope for the better tomorrow. Or like your neighbors --
for the less religious among us, suddenly extending before you those hesitant hands of trust, with an unfailing like-mindedness, unbeknownst heretofore. That's the realm of Cricket, for you, dear.

Image: From the book titled same. Note that this post has got no relation to the book.