The Friendship Conundrum

The general theory that goes with friendship is that it is relative to time. Over-time, I have had the pleasure of engaging with different people on the validity of this idea and have always had key take-away's from almost all of them. This automatically opens up the corollary -how does one measure longevity in friendship?

From personal experience there is no clear answer. But there has emerged a pattern to the means in attempting to find some solid ground. It is (and always has been) my belief that success or eqanimity in achieving similar platform between two friends is directly proportional to the time that is invested in the relationship. Over years, most of us have built upon a strikingly similar model.

Let's start with the school friends. The degree of variance here is the greatest in terms of branching out from school into different facets of life. Over time, it is also the toughest to sustain the longevity, since embracing future walks of life comes with good orthogonality. As a result, common topics of discussions, moral ground, individual maturity and opinions differ by such a large degree that losing touch naturally becomes the easy way out. Add to this the common trait of choosing or abandoning people based on likes, dislikes, physical appearances and the crap in-between. As always, there are exceptions to the rule and some have stood the test of time, literally. A point to contrast is here is the degree of fondness one associates with this period since most of the time is spent on playing and discussing sports.

As one progresses into college life, juxtaposed with adolescence, rebellion, freedom and independence, a common ground slowly emerges. One is surrounded by like-minded individuals whose pursuit falls within the gamut of one's own. As a result, the quality of friendship also reaches a measurable limit with ideas tending to similar objectives. One associates with his similar-minded individuals more and herein lies the key to maintaining longevity. The sample set and variance also tends to reach a limit in terms of varying degrees of interests, subject matter, social issues. So, a tighter group begins to emerge.

From here, when an individual progresses into graduate education, the longevity of the friendship tends to peak to it's highest point. Factor in the duration of the curriculum, time away from family and long study hours- one spends the largest time in the close proximity of friends. This automatically strengthens bonds between like-minded individuals whose immediate goals and objectives are the closest to one another. It should not then come as a surprise when the friends one makes during this time generally stand the test of time to a far greater degree. This, given the fact that distances between two friends generally lands up to be the largest, owing to professional calling, relocation for higher studies and spouses coming into the mixture.

I often subscribe to the view that an individual is assessed by the company he keeps. Today, the associations with some wonderful people has contributed significantly to who I am. It is quite remarkable that an outside being can contribute so significantly to your thought process, engage with you during turbulent times, admonish you over your mistakes, agonize over your sorrows, keeps you grounded after success and more importantly, knows when and how to be there. To this end, I will gladly declare that my cup is half-full. In return, I get to be a part of their growth, maturity, parenthood and evolution. As the year draws to a close, I can fondly look back at the people who made me what I am and the people I can truly call my friends. And, no, you cannot quantify and put a price on that!

To give credit where it's due -this article is an offshoot of one of many stimulating conversations over a memorable trip with a close friend.

 

Konjee with Ka-Run

After a rather disconcerting time, the poor man was to experience more agony when the daringly stupid, remarkably atrocious and seemingly discombobulating Koffee with Karan was reintroduced. In recognition of a show that is so full of it, here is my humble condemnation....

Hello and welcome to Konjee with Ka-Run. In this poor man's show of the original, we will now attempt to bring to light several snoopy, distasteful and candid moments of those people who are of no use to anyone...Celebrities! In the first of many many excruciating shows, I, your host Ka-Run, will attempt to take you behind the scenes, bedrooms and bathrooms of all our favourite celebs. To mark the opening act of this enthralling show, I will now introduce you to our guest this evening, Ka-Ran.
 
(from somewhere the viewers can hear clapping and some door opens and our ahem, man of the moment appears blowing imaginary kisses to the microbes in the air)

Hello Ka-Ran, welcome to my show. It is indeed a displeasure to have you here. Since you are now one of the pioneer's of poor man's entertainment, how does it feel?

Muah-muah, oh Ka-Run dah-ling, thank you for having me on this show. Can I expect all my friends tonight? The same people again and again and again?

Well, Ka-Ran, you can. But, I can't. Since we do not have money to pay for the appearance of the same so-called A-list celebrities, it's only going to be you and I.

Oh, really. Muah-muah! I hope you are not resorting to any dirty pranks, no? You dirty boy!

Don't worry Ka-Ran. I would not even dream of it. Okay, let's get started. When you penned that super-duper magnum opus, Parson Ho Naa Ho, were you suffering from insomnia?

Oh, dah-ling..why would you say that?

Well, the movie was so long that I fell asleep even before the interval. So, I was wondering that only a ahem, man who is deprived of sleep can go on rambling about the story.

Oh, muah muah...we'll it was one of those days when I just wanted to bring out my deepest emotions, you know. As usual, I took my story to Aa-di and Jash uncle, they wanted me to bring more emotions into the story-line. Then as always, I took the story to my best buddies Ra-Sukh, Ka-Jol and Ra-Ni who were so overwhelmed by the plot that they wanted to add a few over-acting lines here and there. So, by the time I realized it, the run time of the movie was nearly fourteen hours and twenty seven minutes. In fact, the little kids in the movie actually grew up too. But, Ra-Sukh advised me to go ahead with the story and volunteered to act in it too. So, I got stuck with him.

Oh, these are some really startling revelations we have. So, tell me Ka-Ran, why is it that you bring the same people back on your show? I know you have your comfort zone with your chaddi buddies, but you need some fresh meat, dude!

Ah, but they are my friends, na. If I don't give them the publicity, who will yaar? Ritik, Babishek, Aish, Ra-Ni, Catrina, Jahid, Peepika, Kanbir, Shanuska, Sanveer, Ruzaane, Pohn Abraham, Kipasha, Mareena, Kaif, Ka-Jol, Monakshi...these people depend on me for their livelihood yaar. Their net-worth rockets once they come on my show.

Eh, how is that?

See, dah-ling, if I don't ask them all those silly questions and respond to their fake answers with an even more pretentious laughter, all the teenage youth of our country will not be able to get meaning for their lives. You see, I am the talent, I am the host and I am the show! In fact, even on the news, my show is breaking news

Er-let's not get distracted by self praise. I also wanted to ask you about the insanely large Coffee mugs. Why do you think you need the ahem, celebrities to sign and put it on the wall? It feels a tad pretentious.

My-naive doll....it is supposed to be like that. That's what I call drama. Let me tell you a secret. Those coffee mugs are just for the show. After the ahem, celebrities sign and put them on the wall, after the show, we actually give it to them. Hahaha...it's so funny. They think they go up on my wall. That's just a ball!

Also, as our poor man's fans eagerly want to know, why are you so interested in ahem, celebrities' personal lives? Talk about washing the dirty linen in public!

Oh-come on yaar. I can't believe you are even asking that! I take it upon myself to give all the wannabe, pretentious and self-loving people out there, what I call, a chance to peep into their stars' bedroom. You know, it gets more TRPs than current-affairs? If say, X is sleeping with Y, they are not going to admit it on TV. Or if someone says he/she is a virgin, how do you know it's the truth? So, when I play the host, my journalism skills take over. I will send X out and ask Y coyly, what is the first thing X does when he gets up? See what I did there? Invariably, Y will spill it out. And the extremely intelligent audience will figure out that X and Y are shacking up! Of course, I love to spoil the mood, with an extreme fake laugh and save the embarrassment for all! Don't you just love me?

Wow! I need some antacid now..anyway, one last question before we play our rapid fire. What is up with the gift-hamper? The ahem, celebrities can do without the additional vanity accessory!

Oh that! Muah muah...don't you love it when everyone wants that thing? It just brings out how material-centered they are! No matter how much they have, they still want that hamper. I put that just to see how vulgar and silly they look competing for that hamper. It's the bee's knees!! Muah-muah

Ok, I did not expect that. Let's move on to the rapid fire round. Let me pull out my memo-pad where I have jotted the questions...

Dah-ling, don't you have an i-pad? Chee, what is this memo-pad?

Remember Ka-Ran, this is a poor man's show. We like to keep it simple. Anyway, let's move on to the questions:

Your favourite colour?
Pink

Your favourite movie?
Parson Ho Naa Ho

Your favourite actor?
Ra-Sukh

Your favourite actress?
Ra-Ni

Your favourite holiday city?
San Francisco (wink-wink)

Your favourite song?
Bole pooriyan, bole rotiyan (I used to be fat)

Your message to our poor viewers?
Love me more than you love yourself. And, don't forget to watch Koffee with Ka-Ran!

Well, that's about it. You will now receive a gift hamper from us. It includes a bowl of Konjee!! Because, we cannot afford anything else.

Oh, is it healthy dah-ling? Let me try it. Goodbye dah-ling!! We must do this again sometime!

And...vomit...




Footnote: I am sure after reading this, you will rush to watch Koffee with Ka-Ran. After all, there are very few poor men left in this world. So, kiss my poor ass! 

Ladies And Gentlemen.....

I have been wanting to do this piece for a long time, and as usual, my lazy ass never got to it. Well, here goes lazy..

Ever wondered about the alarming levels of stupidity around you? I ain't saying I am the smartest sap on the planet, but hey, you act like a fool, you most definitely are. Which brings me to the topic of air-travel. Now-a-days, thanks to the cash-cows in India, flying is not the life long ambition for most in our country anymore. In fact, some legs of air travel are actually cheaper than bus travel, minus the effort and the crowd. Given the fact that our people hump and produce a child every 10 seconds, a little bit of space and efficiency is surely in order. Or so, you thought!

"Ladies and gentlemen..welcome aboard Flight-420 with direct service from Southeast to Midwest. It is indeed a pleasure to have you on board. My name is Chikna Chana and I will be you Chief flight attendant today"

"Well, lookey-here! Idiocy now has hierarchy!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will now be taking off shortly. Please turn-ff your cell phones and all electronic devices as these may interfere with the navigation systems of the aircraft"

"Excuse me, I am an engineer. I can tell you that the radiations emitted out of the cell phone do not fall in the same RF band as the communication equipment on the aircraft. Even so, I'll let that one pass, and put it on "Aircraft-mode"

"No Sir. Please switch off your device completely. We are in an aircraft".

"OK..let me explain...when the phone is in flight mode, it does not receive any signals from any cell towers, nor does it transmit anything out"

"Sir, the very fact that it says airplane mode on, means that it is not to be used in the aircraft"

"Blimey! You are right..can't argue with such sound logic"...


"Please direct your attention to the attendants, who will now demonstrate a few important safety instructions"

"Hmm..if I did not know how to insert one end into the other end of this magical device called the seat belt, I ain't worth living"

"Sir, please straighten your seatback to an upright position and raise the window shades"

"Why, what would happen if I left my back rest reclining? And what the fuck is with the raising window shades? Is that going to impact the blind-spot of the pilot? Is there another plane competing for the spot for take off so that he needs to see what the fuck is going on to the side?"

"Sir, please relax. These are safety procedures"

"Really? Hmm...alright. I have to get my ass to Midwest so I'll pretend to ignore your stupidity and not to mention, ignorance"

Suddenly, there is a gruff voice from the intercom.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is your Captain Jaibajrang Vayu speaking. We have a very short delay in taking off since we are seventh in line for takeoff. But, relax, sit back and enjoy your flight! I will update you once we are on the air"

"Enjoy your flight, eh? Why can't you overtake the six duds in front of us and reach the runway for the next take-off? You do the same shit when you are driving a car. Think of this bird doing just that. What? No? Too bad. No-one consideres good free advice these days"

"Alright! Take-off....wheeeeee"

"The Captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign. But please remain in your seat. You are free to use your ipods and laptops now"

"Sigh! Technically, you can use your cell phone as well. What if all the wannabes having iphones on this flight want to listen to music?"

"Sir, they are free to do that. But the phones must be switched off"

"Eh??? Never mind. Good thing, Steve Jobs is dead already"

Right about now, all the Gujarathi aunties now decide they need to consume their packed theplas and undhiyos. And all the old-aged uncles want to initiate the painful task of unbuckling their seat-belts, get up from their seats to take a piss. A charging of the bulls ensures and I am left wondering, these people really do want to get their penny's worth by leaving their marks even in here!

Chikna now starts with the on-board dining as if it has been copied from a French fine-dining experience. First the curtains come on so that no-one is allowed to look into what magical delicacy is being prepared with such secrecy. But, for the benefit of his doubt, we shall let that one pass.

"Sir, would you like to have anything from our selection?"

"Hmm....Two hundred bucks for a cold paratha! Hmpf...no thanks! I shall starve instead. How about a glass of water?"

"Sir, please wait. Let me cater to the others who might be excited enough to buy something. I will be right back with you"

"Well, hello, parched throat!"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your First Officer speaking now. The Captain is busy eating his meals, having set the course and allowing the auto-pilot to take over. We are now flying at 36,000 feet with a head-wind of about 8 knots. The outside temperature is minus 27 degrees. So, sit back and ring up on our attendant should you require any assistance"

"Well, in what mother-fucking way was this announcement useful information? Flying at 36,000 feet. OK. So what? And, did you stick your head out like a dog to measure the temperature outside? And, head-wind is just a cheeky way of saying, there is a chance we might get delayed. Dumb-ass!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have now begun our descent into Mid-west. Please return to your seats, especially all those old-aged uncles. Fun time's over and fasten your seat-belts. The Captain has just finished his meals and will now prepare the final settings on the auto-pilot for landing. As you can see, he is highly qualified. Also, we will be dimming the on-board lights during landing. So, please feel free use the reading light above you"

"What??? What does on-board lighting have to do anything with take-off and landing?? Excuse me..well, never mind, screw that thought. I am now so nicely tucked in that my balls would pop-up any minute. By the way, I am still waiting on my water!"

"We now wish to proudly announce an on-time arrival to Midwest. The aircraft has now left the active runway, so you can now use your cell phones"

"Uh, excuse me, won't that impact some communication equipment on the plane while it is heading to the gate?"

"No Sir, after landing and getting off the main runway, you can use your phones as per regulation"

"Ah, well, I see your brilliant logic there! You just repeated yourself so that I can sit back, relax and tug on my testicles! Well played"

"Please remain in your seats till the aircraft comes to a complete halt"

At this precise moment, all the passengers get up to get their shit out of the overhead bins and clamour for the passageway. Sigh, air-travel is so stress-free and enjoyable that for some weird reason, I am now rooting for the bus!

PS: And, all flight announcements should as as cool as this

Respect

Dear Rahul,

It is exactly one year to this day since you retired. Your press conference still streams through my mind. I have not seen many, looking dapper with the India blazer and the tie, on similar occasions (or choose to don the India colours). But then, you were always the studious gentleman, weren't you? I can imagine you as a student in the classroom, refraining from tantrums and truants, and, instead engaging in very well-mannered frivolity, away from the eyes and ears of the teacher! Yes, that was probably what you did too...

Well, what else has happened in the past one year? Economic meltdowns, political turmoil and inhuman rapists aside, you did go quietly about your business post-retirement too. First, there were numerous emotional articles, writ with perfect diction and correctness, that can only be attributed to you. For some writers and journalists, you seemed to bring out their best strokes. If one ever had a doubt that you were an ethereal underdog who never seemed to get his due, the media and the blogging world lay this argument to rest with resounding success. Why, you were even bestowed with the country's third highest civilian honour! Honestly, the words- wall, consistent, dependable, technique, gentleman, champion, among several others took to a new level. Some of the articles and comments have truly been tear-jerking and I shed quite a few too. Gradually, philosophical ideas overtook current reality that, time does not wait for anyone. Alas, fans will now have to get used to a gaping void at the third position of the scoreboard, eventually to be filled by a bunch of letters, but, never again capturing the essence of India's greatest one-drop batsman.

Secondly, the felicitations from the governing bodies of cricket and the media followed where you had to struggle to keep yourself from breaking-down. And, you began laying the foundation of a perceivable future brick by brick in all those memorable speeches. Each carefully prepared, judiciously studied and eloquently delivered. I could not help but notice the tight bond between the core group of the team and time, which now form fairy-tales from yore. It was truly wonderful to realize that even in a professional environment, there could be true friendship and respect for peers.

A few months down the line, when the cacophony of the IPL ended, not many realized that the Rajasthan Royals finished up on top of the table for fair-play. I am sure, your presence at the helm would have resulted in that achievement. Budding players, blinded by the arc-lights of fame would have had a re-assuring arm on their shoulders telling them that individual brilliance is all fine ephemerally, but true worth lay in putting team over self, humility over arrogance, perseverance over lethargy. You would have told them that the five-day version of the sport would remain the summit to scale- the pearl in the oyster. I truly hope they would have taken this advice.

You then dabbled in some public appearances with your book launch, at leadership summits and literature festivals, lots of public awareness campaigns, where you appeared to feel right at home. There was the one very odd award ceremony where you looked completely at sea, sitting among film personalities and leggy lasses. One could see your face turning crimson red when you were interviewed by a model! Perhaps, clean-bowled by a fair maiden? But, it was nice to see you loosening up, albeit only momentarily, in these events.

You also did a measured stint in commentary and writing, which should be favoured areas of interest in the future as well, considering your penchant for the written word. You must be satisfied with this new guy, holding up your desk in the office. He does not seem to be too bad. But, hopefully, he is able to grab your baton in overseas conditions. We will have to wait and watch, for a repeat of his current performances can hopefully, bring down the anxiety levels when India is 2 for 1. Maybe, he can figure out a way to calm the nerves over the next ball, the bowler charging in after his success, the crowd behind the home team, and the ball released with fiery pace is safely "well-left" to the keeper without any hassle. It will be a thrill to hear the buzz in the stadium turn into an exasperation. Maybe, he has it in him to battle the whims of the weather-Gods and bide time for sunnier moments at Leeds. Perhaps, he can summon his yogic concentration levels in sweltering heat in the dust bowls of Rawalpindi, much like you did....

So, yes, I have been following your activities over the past one year with great interest and curiosity. For a select few of us, stationed across continents, you have been one of the prime source of conversation exchange. That is perhaps, a fresh accolade to your overflowing cup. Over time, I do see you getting more involved in cricket. Perhaps, you can team up with your legendary mates and spread the awareness of test cricket to the smaller towns in the country. Perhaps, you can engage in unearthing talent from different parts of the country. Perhaps, you can dig into the grassroots of Indian cricket, and volunteer to clean it up, just like you did, in the Indian colours.

But, whatever you do, it has been an absolute privilege watching, discussing, understanding and aping you. After a year, the hat of great "Ambassador to Cricket" now fits nicely, just like that India blazer and tie did a year ago. Thank you, Rahul, for the memories.

Siddarth.
 

Catalyst

In placing due importance to the the famous Independence speech by Pandit Nehru, India awoke into the pangs of ignominy at the turn of the century. A nation felt betrayed by scandals and testimonials of epic proportion in a sport which ran rich and thick through it's veins. The first man of cricket was brought to his knees in astounding revelations and it seemed as if turmoil on the political front seeped into the cricket field as well. While one end of the country was losing her brave soldiers at the high peaks of Siachen, at the other end, it's people wept and felt cheated by icons of the sport. To some, Prime Minister, A.B.Vajpayee's oratory skills provided comfort and served as a balm to soothe the pain of the causality India was suffering at Kargil and at cricket. 

But, all that was to change. Day after day, the Prime Minister's brilliant speeches and intent, created a massive ripple that gripped the nation and gave it belief, that she could come out of it scathed, yes, but stronger and belligerent. To this end, we owe a truck-load of gratitude to our brave soldiers, who survived all odds to scale great heights and stamp the authority India was to have in the high peaks of the Himalayas. As a result of this new found confidence, people across the country began to look up at the sky again. The successful nuclear tests and the long range ballistic missile tests conducted during this time further strengthened the country's might and India announced herself to the world rising like a dragon.

Over this period of excitement, every Indian citizen began his day with the hope that he too can scale great heights. It was against this backdrop that a visiting Australian team arrived on Indian shores with the dream of conquering it on the grass-fields. It was against this backdrop, that a nucleus of players with highest integrity and deepest love for the traditions of the game came together to brush away the tragic drama that had engulfed the sport. Aggressive competitors on the field with a demure persona off it, these titans performed duties battling cramps, broken-jaws, hamstrings, dehydration, sore backs, short-pitched deliveries and thrust the new found self-belief into the face of the nation and especially, it's youth. For that, this blogger will be eternally grateful.

An Indian team got up to defend it's land and protect it against the all conquering Australian team. Led extremely admirably by a captain who believed in taking the bull by the horns, it's batsmen stood up to face the heat. It's bowlers acquired new desire to run in hard and bend their backs with each delivery. It's fielders threw themselves on the ground-leaping, flying, shedding blood to blunt the opposition. In due course of time, as India became a global power who could not be ignored, an Indian team and it's brave-hearts stepped onto the play-field literally wearing their hearts on their sleeves. Not to be subservient anymore, not to be bullied anymore, but to fight and win within the
boundaries of sportsmanship.

It was against this backdrop the India vs Australia series of 2001 unfolded and will remain etched in the minds of my generation for ages to come. When every player begins to believe that he can perform beyond his potential, what transpires on the field is a revelation. Each of these players assumed a larger than life grit and will-power and gave it his all for the cause of his country. That group of players attained divinity in the minds and hearts of their supporters. Bloodied but not beaten, injured but not down, they collectively embodied a nation's calling for a shot at her destiny.

And what a legacy they left behind! One, that cannot be surpassed, not because records cannot be broken, but for the immense levels of valor that went into shaping that legacy. No one can dare put a prize to that and no one should. To exemplify the fact that, this level of greatness was achieved with the utmost humility and stood out in the standard that was maintained in keeping up with the traditions of the game is a resounding achievement. This Indian team not only protected the country's soil against invaders, but went on to battle for supremacy on foreign soil. Battlegrounds in England, West Indies, Sri Lanka, Pakistan and Australia were conquered. Those present, witnessed and stood in unison to laud these legendary warriors who enthralled the audience with grit, determination, audacity, tenacity, guile, perseverance and more importantly, love for the game and respect for it's peers.

Today, as I look back fondly at this time India rose, I recall how her warriors on the battlefront and off it performed admirably. A nation's collective calling was answered by a few men who took guard against bullets and bouncers. Against bitter cold and sweltering heat. To stand up and fight did not require might but strength, did not require rage but resolve, did not require hate but skill. Today, as India pushes herself up to greater heights, I cannot help but smile at the catalyst that spurned this process. At the men, who gave their all.

"At the stroke of midnight, when the world sleeps, India awakens to her life and freedom...".

Forever and More

She extended her arms and gently covered my ears. What she spoke seemed like sweet nothings in my ear. Her voice tones were interspersed (albeit, gently) between different levels of melodies

As I attempt to guage her, the yellow skin on her body bears fruity qualities. Her brain tries to guage my mood to continue whispering sweet nothings. A Genius at play, it would seem! As I lay in bed, she engulfed the silence of the night, lying beside me, comforting me. I would fall asleep, in her arms, listening to her lullabies. As I rode in to nowhere, she accompanied me, lovingly caressing my back, gently filtering out the din outside. When I spoke alongside her, her melodious tones seemed more extravagant. When I listened to her intently, my world suddenly reflected the joys of a musical, unfettered by noise.

She was a bit mysterious on occasions. I would not know what she would say next. But there was a very nice medley, all the time. Sometimes, I would ask her to go back and repeat the things she'd just said, just to re-live the euphoria. Not once did she disappoint. Oftentimes, her lustrous face, reflected organization of thought. As she spoke, her face painted a rich kaleidoscope of colours, and sometimes, embezzling the gaiety of her voice. But often, her face was not the object of my attention. She would sometimes respond awkwardly to touch, but her face would glow, radiant and all. I would feed her, sometimes with quick bites, sometimes with elaborate meals. It would never matter to her. She would never flatter to deceive. We would fight too, when she said things I did not want to hear. But the fallout would end when the right chord was stuck soon after. On days when she felt low, a quick charge would immediately liven her up. 

Over the years, she has oft comforted me. Her gentle voice would emancipate worry. Her company on trips livened up an otherwise mundane journey. I would always come back refreshed after being in her arms. As I get up everyday to put myself through the grind, I know, when I come back home, she would be waiting for me, her arms stretched wide open, beckoning me to them....

For Love of the Game -Part2

Pudgy took his guard first up. He strapped on his pads, abdomen guard and gloves. Somehow, he never wore the helmet. Perhaps, he did not like to survey the landscape from the confines of the grill, perhaps he felt it was an irritant to his free hitting style. Pudgy was always a bowler first. A cracker one at that too! He loved to give the cherry a rip as it left his elastic wrists. He loved to dabble in military medium too. But I enjoyed watching him when he bowled spin. A physique like a certain blonde-haired Australian wonder, he had a bowling action quite similar to him too. Maybe a couple of more steps into the delivery...He liked the hard wrought-iron surface we played on. He liked the ball coming on nicely to his bat. He loved it give it a spank. "I am going to hit you out", was the message sent out loud and clear. I never really liked bowling to him. Often, standing at mid-off, I could feel the power and the force with which the ball would leave the bat. Pure disdain, I tell you! It was not a fun time to be fielding at that position too, especially with the cold Pacific breeze blowing through the well-lit makeshift cricket area. Pudgy as a bowler was superbly organized. Hell, I never liked facing him either! He would bowl leg-spin from around the wicket to right-handed batsmen. We had a predicament with our makeshift cricket field. The boundary wall was, perhaps just a couple of feet from where out leg-stump ended. It was almost as if Pudgy took a machiavellian delight in our agony. The ball would come looping from his hand (a beautiful loop shaming geometry!) and dip right on line with the leg-stump. The only way to play the ball was to either move across and back and awkwardly guide it to the off-side or kill the ball in defense. Open stance never seemed to work for me due to the boundary wall. And, I did not have the balls to sweep a spinning, bouncing cobra. In the six overs each of us faced, Pudgy's two were hell.

Lefty perhaps played Pudgy the best. Being a south-paw gave him natural advantage. It was a joy to watch Lefty bat. He had the elegance, much like an audacious former Indian captain. Again, standing at mid-off, you can just watch the ball caressed towards the point and cover areas. Lefty was quite fidgety with his stance too. He liked the little details. There used to be an apologetic look on his face after he would send the ball flying, moments after it left your hand. "Sorry, mate", came promptly. After every ball, he would adjust his gloves with the same clinical precision as before. Lefty used to wear his helmet on top of his rotated cap. It provides a solid base for the helmet, he used to say. And he liked trying out new bats too. I recall, he had spent multiple sessions seasoning a new bat which adorned our balcony for a while. Often, Pudgy and Lefty would converse in Kannada. Perhaps it was sledging. No, I don't think it was that. Folks from Bangalore are much too genial. Lefty used to bowl right-arm medium pace. It was great fun playing Lefty. We had to always mind of our foot, though. A yorker was always on the corner when Lefty bowled. And, he kept coming at us. With the same speed, same pace, every delivery. He used to apologize if we played and missed! He was a fine reader of his opponent too, Lefty. He would comment on our shots, the way our feet were moving, balance and all that jazz. And, do it so gracefully. Fine gentleman, Lefty was! He would encourage us to try something new, cater to our requests bowling specific deliveries repeatedly and with the same intensity. He would let you know what to expect when he was trying something new, to get the batsman's perspective! Much like Amby...

Amby always prided in being technically correct. He was equally dextrous bowling with either arm. Amby played Division league cricket and manned the No:3 position much like a certain legend who was India's finest there. Every game we played, Amby used to preface it with a methodical warm-up session of stretching and loosening up. If Amby batted first, it would be a good 10-15 minutes before we bowled the first ball! He used to go over strapping on his pads to putting on his helmet with utter disregard for time. Never rush yourself before going out to bat, he would often remark. Amby used to wear a bandanna underneath his helmet. He would always come out to bat with a dri-fit white shirt underneath his t-shirt. His entire ensemble made for much banter amongst the others but never once was he perturbed. Even while waiting to face the delivery, he would raise his head up at the last moment. Often, we have stopped in our run-up thinking he was not ready! Amby had a very prodigious cut. It was a joy to watch him cut the ball. His shift of balance, while being oh, so nimble on his toes. Like Lefty, he would often dabble in the intricacies of the technique. He handled Pudgy much better with an open stance and was never afraid to launch into the sweep. Against the pacers, Amby would never be rushed into playing a rash shot. But Amby was never about the powerful hitting. There was something insanely serene about him. Even when he bowled, he had the perfect run-up before delivery and his action was smooth as silk. He used to experiment with a new technique each time we played. One session used to be just for out-swing while the other used to be for in-swing. Even when batting, Amby followed a routine that he would have thought of to practice, earlier. And, he used to practice this for his game in the leagues. I hear that even in friendly-matches, Amby would always fancy himself to hold one end up, something he prided in doing in the league games too. To us, he was the most complete player.

Amby, Lefty and Pudgy represent three very real characters with whom, I have had the pleasure of sharing multiple practice sessions. I never cared that Amby played Division cricket, that Lefty represented clubs professionally or that Pudgy was the best bowler of spin I had ever played. To me, it did not matter who was a better batsman or a better bowler, who was fitter, who was more knowledgeable. To me, what mattered was that wrought-iron tennis court and the sheer joy of playing a sport that the four of us loved. To us, the cold Pacific breeze brought the warmth of friendship. To us, cricket provided a stage to let go, be free.

Always for love of the game....