Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Of cross-breezes

Anyone who has ever been in an oppressively hot car will know that opening one window is never quite enough. You need to open two, one on each side, to create a cross-breeze that flows through the car. Of course, this applies for wherever you need a cool burst of air (like your home) but also, it seems to me, to life in general. 

Yes, you need to keep yourself open to receive: new ideas, experiences, and all the beauty and magic that life has to offer. It's also important though to keep another part of yourself open to give: to add to the beauty and the magic, to share, to reach out and connect. Of course, selfishness is always an option, but try and imagine how much worse off we'd all be if everyone exercised it. 

So, if you've ever wondered how to make the world a better place, this is as good a place as any to start. Share yourself with the world (and we all have something to share), if only because everything you are is a direct result of things others have shared. Always keep both windows open, so everyone (the passengers in your car, or your co-travellers through life) has a much more enjoyable ride. 

A final thought: As soon as you open the second window, you will find that breeze will find your way into your car somehow, even on what seems like the stillest day. It needs to know there's a way out, before it decides to come in. From the point of view of the creative process, both the metaphor and its implications are too significant to ignore.

Peace.

Tuesday, September 09, 2014

Last cricket-related post for foreseeable future (promise)

And so, to celebrate the end of a series that started with the euphoria of Lords, plunged the depths at the Oval, and ended in anti-climactic defeat at Edgbaston, let's remind ourselves of an event that went by largely unnoticed at the time. 

It was the day before the start of the final shambolic test and we found ourselves in a shooting-range. Although official reports suggest it was just Mahendra 'No-singles-please-we-are-Indians' Dhoni who went to get some target practice, the imagined scenario that most of the team had accompanied him there was too tempting to dismiss. 

And so below is a report filed at the time, and released now in the wider public interest. 

9:20 am 
Dhoni is already a few rounds in. He started with trying to aim for a single target, but then, in keeping with his no-singles policy, quickly moved to the double-trap. A few minutes later, Gautam Gambhir walks in. He has no idea where he is, why everyone is holding guns, and why he is wearing a Team India shirt. He simply assumes it is a re-hash of the recurring nightmare he has been having for a few years now which he now affectionately calls, 'The end of my career'. 

9:27 am 
Cheteshwar Pujara arrives, studies the gun for a couple of hours, reads the manual, researches the correct posture, and stares at the target for about 30 minutes. He then pulls out his photo of Rahul Dravid that he always carries for good luck and kisses it a few times. [As of 12:30 pm he had yet to fire a shot.]  

9:35 am
There is frenzy as a young kid in a sports car drives up. Of course, it is Virat Kohli. He steps out like from the pages of a fashion magazine and picks up the nearest rifle. He fires off ten shots in succession, and hits the target about nine times. It is then that he spots a certain Bollywood actress watching in the stands. Suddenly, he doesn't know what range he's at, what to aim for, or indeed where the gun is. He starts to cry. 

After all this intensity, in walks Ajinkya Rahane, who seems like he's floating on a lotus leaf in the middle of a very still lake. He hits the target five times in five attempts and then walks over to the target to apologise to it. Next up is Bhuvaneshwar Kumar. All his shots appear to be on target before inexplicably swerving away to the left at the last moment.

Mohammed Shami and Ishant Sharma are all using special rifles with extra long handles and get some on target here and there (Ishant has to stop every once in a while to get his hair out of the way) before Sir Ravindra Jadeja arrives. He grabs the nearest rifle, blows the place apart, and stands in the middle of the range - eyes glinting with just the faintest hint of insanity - singing 'Ooooh, Aaaah, Ravi Jadejaaa' at the top of his voice. 

And just like that, it is 4 pm. It is time to leave.