The other day as I sat down to watch the Royal Challengers of Bengaluru play the Rajasthan Royals in the Indian Premier League at Bengaluru I was struck at the emotional discord that Rahul Dravid seemed to be going through as he went out for the toss. Rahul received huge applause from a partisan Bengaluru crowd...they were cheering the enemy. Rahul Dravid skippers the RR from Jaipur.
The enormity of playing against your home team at a ground where you learnt your cricket must have sunk in, even as the crowd chanted his name. Rahul Dravid is talked about as the next big thing in cricket administration and one day is expected to be the chairman of the International Cricket Council, the premier role in cricket administration. The cap stone, to a wonderful career on and off the cricket field.
As Rahul Dravid, left the centre, post the toss, there was this other bloke, in the RCB dug out looking relaxed and cheerful. Another Bengaluru boy and legend, Anil Kumble now mentors the RCB. Anil played for the RCB a couple of years and retired immediately on hearing that he was not selected by the RCB. His reason for quitting was that he could not dream of playing against Bengaluru, should he be selected by another franchise, as in the case of Rahul Dravid. The ethos and principle is fantastic. One loves the game and just wants to play, the other wants to play within defined parameters and not against his own ex collegues. Both made their choices and right in their own way and both fantastic role models and individuals.
Importantly both great Bengaluru boys!
As Shakespeare said in A Midsummer Night’s Dream:
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
I explore the last frontier..............humans!
Showing posts with label IPL. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IPL. Show all posts
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
The Circus in town
The patriotic fervor displayed by the honorable Corporaters of the BBMP in Bengaluru has been a touching sight. The gentlemen have been clamoring nay agitating for free passes to the Indian Premier League (IPL) games played at the Chinnaswamy Stadium .The further demand is that the passes be for the ‘VIP’ enclosure, where they can watch the matches with ‘dignity’.
Why should they get these passes? Why not, they are the people’s representative and have been elected by the people of Bengaluru. Did the people elect them to watch a cricket circus,in style, is another question.
A few days ago, I had the opportunity of travelling by a ‘City Bus’, the common name for public transport in Bengaluru, a practice I gave up almost thirty years ago for the comfort of my own car or a cab. After years of traipsing around in ships, aircraft and chauffer driven car’s I got a taste of what the common man endures when he/she has to travel in overcrowded, rickety buses which seem to bounce rather than run on our cratered roads.
Since, this was a ‘private’ public bus, it carried a TV, which showed a Kannada flick where the hero, a policeman seemed to be in a perpetual rage and wanting to beat the living daylights out of every gent that crossed his path. The movie was particularly engrossing as much of the population of the bus were glued to the small screen and barely seemed to notice the rough ride that we were being dished out. In its decline the emperors of Rome, fed their people on circuses where people and animals slaughtered each other. A ploy, to keep the hoi polloi from questioning their excesses.
Now one may ask, as to who is responsible for the roads in this fair city? Apparently the same honorable gentlemen who want to watch cricket in dignity. A good question would be,’ Can we travel in dignity?’
With the way in which the Bangalore boys are performing or rather not performing, it might soon come to pass that the honorable torch bearers of the BBMP may not be interested in free passes to the circus anymore. After all who wants the company of a loser? There is no dignity in losing, is there?
As for the bus ride, I quite enjoyed it, simply because it shook me out of my sedated and cocooned world and screamed; “Welcome to India”. The real India that is. The one I had left about thirty years ago, where the guy who battles the city bus on a daily basis, tries to do it with dignity and does not think of the IPL, where grown men, sweaty and tense in pajamas hurl a leather ball and attack it with a wooden stick, watched by a baying crowd.
pic is by J Vedamurthy
Why should they get these passes? Why not, they are the people’s representative and have been elected by the people of Bengaluru. Did the people elect them to watch a cricket circus,in style, is another question.
A few days ago, I had the opportunity of travelling by a ‘City Bus’, the common name for public transport in Bengaluru, a practice I gave up almost thirty years ago for the comfort of my own car or a cab. After years of traipsing around in ships, aircraft and chauffer driven car’s I got a taste of what the common man endures when he/she has to travel in overcrowded, rickety buses which seem to bounce rather than run on our cratered roads.
Since, this was a ‘private’ public bus, it carried a TV, which showed a Kannada flick where the hero, a policeman seemed to be in a perpetual rage and wanting to beat the living daylights out of every gent that crossed his path. The movie was particularly engrossing as much of the population of the bus were glued to the small screen and barely seemed to notice the rough ride that we were being dished out. In its decline the emperors of Rome, fed their people on circuses where people and animals slaughtered each other. A ploy, to keep the hoi polloi from questioning their excesses.
Now one may ask, as to who is responsible for the roads in this fair city? Apparently the same honorable gentlemen who want to watch cricket in dignity. A good question would be,’ Can we travel in dignity?’
With the way in which the Bangalore boys are performing or rather not performing, it might soon come to pass that the honorable torch bearers of the BBMP may not be interested in free passes to the circus anymore. After all who wants the company of a loser? There is no dignity in losing, is there?
As for the bus ride, I quite enjoyed it, simply because it shook me out of my sedated and cocooned world and screamed; “Welcome to India”. The real India that is. The one I had left about thirty years ago, where the guy who battles the city bus on a daily basis, tries to do it with dignity and does not think of the IPL, where grown men, sweaty and tense in pajamas hurl a leather ball and attack it with a wooden stick, watched by a baying crowd.
pic is by J Vedamurthy
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