Let my INK SPLASH

                The flights took off and finally their hip-hops took a stop as the ausies leave our country. “Happy journey friends”. Am I too aggressive and excited??? May be, but now I’m a grown up and I just kicked on their white faces who snatched the CUP from me in 2003. The day when our DADA (Ganguly) got sad, the day when the criticisms on my innocent captain got mad- so this aggro of mine is rightly justified. Although I could not stab my close friend's (Pointing) dream of stopping our MASTER (Sachin) from scoring 100 but I did made his century suite well the smells of dustbin. My master did his job by laughing well on the sweet spells Lee-Tait-Jhonson to add taste to India's victory and that was well enough from his side. All right, I should say "NICE tragic hero (to pointing) but we chased well J".

Sad but still a painful truth of India's victory is my captain's swinging bat. Yeah! his strategies work but where is the fire from his hand??? Is the 10 glass full milk, that he used to drink daily, being spent somewhere else??? God knows!  But he does prove the everlasting Indian Cricket theory- "SMILE PLEASE! for you are a hero- ‘until’ you are married" His hands now have ego as they want the ball to come and kiss them while they sleep close to his body. And his bat? emmmm...well it merely swings madly to play the dust in air and not the ball. Yuvi is my hero now, who hung in there for last 365days with patience to gather all his energy for WC-2011. He struggled badly with his form during last year, lost all his fans and yes the camera lens too. And now the Punjab king is playing the role of saviour in every match for India on the WC stage, surely his female fans are now kissing his posters back, for sure (& thank god! he's not married yet J). The Indian squad has first time proved they to fit for the world champions title in the row of matches played so far. Although we pushed the defending champions out of the line but some hot bloods like Gambhir have to look on their energy meter that shows spikes when not needed in the field. Why he's always in a hurry to run on the pitch???

I won't show any bad sign through my fingers, for now, to my chums (I can't criticize them in public) who always support the other team facing India as for now. Reason??? The CUP is still two big matches away wherein the first one will be challenged by our neighbours (Afridi's boys) and later by another bigwig too. But I do want to bang the table loud to pierce their diaphragms by holding the 27years old Indian dream- Cricket World Cup.

Fear is well defined for each one of us & so for me. You may use the word ‘pseudo’ to describe mine but I won’t. You read the title and must have guessed it- I am a victim of Holi-phobia. It has been since I recognised I my diapers. Shrieking & peeing coyly on the colour holding intruder used to be my weapon when I was smaller than a child. Hands of clock kept rolling and I grew up holding my bat in my hand- my new weapon for the enemies. Moreover, my trials to preach them that putting colours on oneself is worthless always drowned in the pool of vain.

The day this festival comes, my genie shivers like rattle-snake’s tail (No, do not ask me ‘why’). Even the behaviour of my relatives takes a churlish look and they all grin in my face. Obviously it then gets tough to swing bat in air because their true identity hides under ugly face' black/red finish (YUK!). So, being modest enough I hold a defend strategy and have to take shelter in bathroom. Big bangs on the door or a high pitched scolding from my father; neither of them can shake my belief- I HATE HOLI.

I do appreciate PRAHLAAD’s effort of slaying down the dark forces but whose effort was to enjoy this with nasty colours???

I have turned into a grown up but my dislike for this day sustains. However now they expect me to be sensible and ‘so I am’ J- instead of lifting my bat, I prefer taking bath early in the morning. I put on expensive clothes from my trunk and so no one even eyes on me. Although this action leaves a tag on my head (from my kith & kin’s) - ‘cretin’; I don’t mind it (hehe...). Rather it’s sweet of them because the tag that my chums put on me contain words not to be spoken of here (stop thinking).

My appeal today is still the same- why to colour yourself and then try hard to remove them slogging for hours inside under water- complete wastage of natural resource and time.