This may just turn out to be my 10th failed attempt at writing something decent enough to publish, I may just succeed today; there is no end to hope.
There is no end to motivation either, loads of things happening around me, in the world, in the country, in the city. I will start with something I did, I went to the Mumbai Taj with my family and we had some coffee/ice tea there. I had wanted to go there since last November, I had wanted the place to return to its old aura, its old charm, but then my mom kept asking the driver about the attacks and the bullet marks and the sixth floor and all that; at least the incident is not dead from the public memory. It’s almost nine months now, and still the finger pointing and blame aversion with our neighbors continue.
Somehow I have drifted to a topic that I did not want to write about, I guess I do not even want to vent out my frustration on how little has been done about the attacks and how the one captured terrorists is still going to court and ordering mutton from jail. So I will try to change the topic.
I am writing this on my flight back to
Every time I go to Mumbai, I can’t help loving the place more. A city has a life of its own, and when you visit it, you can feel its pulse, the surprisingly polite auto and cab drivers, the nightlife and the places, the queen’s necklace and a lot more. If given a choice of picking two cities I would like to settle in, It’s got to be
I have started going in a random direction again, this may just turn out to another random piece that I might discard, but one of my cousins whom I do listen to says maybe I should just publish random stuff sometime, it’s not gonna kill anyone. So let me steer myself into something which makes more sense, I saw Anil Kumble at the Bangalore airport the other day and he looked as grounded as ever, He has been the perfect example of how a sportsman should lead his life on and off the field (are you listening Yuvraj Singh?). He always has let his bowling do the talking rather than his mouth.
They said that he couldn’t spin, that he could hardly be classified as a spinner, had no loop or turn, but Kumble knew that he didn’t have to turn the ball a mile to get the results, only that couple of inches either way would do, his bowling has been more about guile, deception and sheer determination, and when combined with a worn out pitch, he sure was deadly, ask the entire
I was reading Srinath’s recollection of the 10 wickets and hoe Kumble went up him when he was on his 9th wicket and told him not to worry about the record and just try finishing the match off.
His commitment to team India could never be questioned but was given the ultimate testament when he came out with fractured jaw wrapped in bandages to bowl those 14 overs, he also managed to get Brain Lara out with a broken jaw, where a hundred bowlers would not have come out, he only said that now he can go back home knowing that he had given his hundred percent. Truly a gentleman playing what used to be a gentleman’s game. I would always remember his last match, At 38, his soul was still willing, he still wanted another 10 wicket haul, another Indian victory, but the body was tiered, and it is only fitting that he retired at Kotla, where he once cleaned up Pakistan with 10 wickets in a single innings, that he bowled his last spell with a heavily bandaged finger of his left hand also seemed like a part of the script.
We are about to land, so I gotta shutdown my laptop. I hope this time there are more posts to follow this one.
