Being from a family that is into all kinds of sports, I was introduced to various sports right from a very young age. Whether it was Ganguli spinning his shirt like he’s gotten the cowboy fever, or it was Schumaker drifting towards a new world record. I loved the excitement that came with watching a legend Federer take on Nadal and the nervousness that came with seeing if Portugal would finally enter a Fifa final or not.
I picked up the bat before I hit ten, and just like every other kid in the neighborhood, decided that I would play for India one day. With that goal set, I would go play a million street games a day – shouting at every no ball, arguing about the run-out, and trying my best to get that perfect yorker. Towards my ninth standard, I finally had a chance to play professional cricket. Continue reading “If you don’t play, you lose.”
You’d be doomed if you told me that Bollywood and Cricket have never been connected. Some of the most passionate love stories come out when these two get together – and one such beautiful love story is of Virat Kohli, who is the captain of the Indian Cricket Team, and his ladylove Anushka Sharma. Continue reading “What Virat and Anushka taught everyone.”
It was late in the evening, and the sun had just started to set. Dusk opened its arms showering bitterness on the atmosphere of the city. The wind was chilly, and the lost souls roamed the streets with nowhere to go. The moon here had always come up just before the sun, but today was an exception. Call it coincidental, or pure symbolism, but for her, it was nothing short of a strong evidence that what she did was perfectly fine, at least, to her.
She sat in the Starbucks Café, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. Her face was cold, and impassive.
“Are you waiting for someone, ma’am?” a young man asked her, pointing towards the empty chair in front of her.
She looked up to find a fair-skinned, young gentleman impatiently waiting for her reply. Before she could see his face, her eyes got fixed on his bracelet – it was a sight which forced her mind to never-ending flashbacks. The now placid face slowly tormented. She clung on to her scarf in such a way that it was next to impossible to find out what it had beneath it.
“Excuse me?” the young man interrupted her erratic thoughts.
So, I give you my shoulder to cry on. I hug you real tight. And tell you that you’ll be fine. That I’ll be beside you and help you through this. I’ll be there for you. And while I’m doing that, out of nowhere, you take out a knife and stab me. I ignore it, and tell you to calm down. We can still fix it. And then you don’t listen, you stab me again. In the same place. And stab me again. And stab me again. And again. In the same fucking place. And there comes a point where it hurts so bad and I’m bleeding so bad that the blood from my stomach looks like a waterfall, and I’m still hugging you trying my best to calm you down, but then the hurt gets unbearable and I feel like I’m going to die. And then I think of Ann. And my family. And how they need me alive than dead. And for once in my life, I be selfish – only because some few very deserving people need me to be there for them – and I push you away.