The cup that counts!

They call it the one that counts - the cricket World Cup 2011, and as the tournament reaches fever pitch at the climax, it really does look like there are a few statements this one is making, creating a definite impact that will be felt in the time to come. 

The more debated one - 50 over cricket will stay for now, showing a potential for providing interesting, twisted, edge-of-the-seat action. However, for that to happen you definitely need pitches with something for the bowlers, because 20-20 is better at wham-bam-thankyou action from the bats. 

But most interestingly, all the sub-continental sides are there in the semi-finals, with no Aus, SA or Eng. Who could have bet on that?! With the exception of Bangladesh, of course, but they did themselves too many disfavors in the league stage itself. Which makes it important to highlight the caveat - this cup is played in sub-continental conditions, in a format most suited to ensure the hosts qualified to the quarters. And hence it was Bangladesh's spot to lose, in some way. But barring that, the final line-up has India Pakistan Sri Lanka and New Zealand. The last one is a bigger surprise than the other three, in some way, given how they came in to the world cup losing 4-0 to Bangladesh and 5-0 to India in these very same conditions! 

Somehow, this sounds staged. Call me a conspiracy theorist, but is there a better result at this stage the hosts of this cup could have asked for? An India Pak semi-final to go, and the fourth team in the fray one of the most beatable ones on paper. Extrapolating, the perfect result is an India SL final - both the co-hosts - with India winning - the biggest financial power in world cricket. Somewhere there throw in Sachin's 100th ton as well.

It's all perfectly likely, and possible even without any conspiracy at all, but somehow, even as I watch with bated breath and pumping adrenaline as a crazy fan the final three chapters unfold, I cannot help but wonder that if it turns out to be too good to be true, was it always meant to be that way?

Hmm.
 

Well, at least it is entertaining. Works for me. Go India!

Khaali

...there are these, and then, there are those conversations with not-strangers. With people you like and love and care about. With people you talk all the time - every week, every day, every few hours. With people you normally like to have conversations with - both intense and mundane. And everything in the

Some of those conversations with some of those people, sometimes, are empty. For the lack of a better word. When you can sense an urgency in the other person's voice to end a conversation you're keen to hanging on to. When you know the other person's attentions lies elsewhere, and not in the story you are narrating. When every word is far away, detached. When the eyes are focused on some stray thought, not on you and not on your expectant eyes. When every word is stretched thin. When you try to fight for every extra second, but eventually realise, this is not the right time.

We've all been there, in those conversations, on both sides.

99 out of 100 times, we forget them as soon as they happen.

Or we call it life.

1 out of 100 times, that stretched feeling lingers a few seconds longer.

That empty-handed moment, that really sucks.

Even though it is life. 

:)

Connections

Nothing and seriously nothing makes my day like a great conversation. And so often, the best conversations happen with "strangers". Or very old friends. It is a pity how rare these opportunities are, but whenever such a chance comes along, it is like a spray of refreshing energy rekindling life. I'm lucky I have this blog, which has over the years helped me cross paths with so many brilliant people who have made a real difference to my life, through their words, through their friendship and just by their generosity of being themselves and letting me be myself around them. You know who you are - thank you. 

You know, even though this world is awfully small, this life painfully long, and the billions painfully crowded, the communication and "networking" modes too intrusive - we are all too lonely still as individuals, too starved of connections with other fellow human beings. And then, there's something magical about connecting with strangers in fortuitous moments, who in their "real world" protocols are too improbable and unapproachable to cross paths with you. 

Thinking of recent time, few months back, meeting SS after months of a pleasing relationship with her written words was the brightest spot in a super-dark fortnight and how much I adore her for that! And yesterday, through a rare conspiracy of circumstances (getting upgraded to business class in a flight too full!) I met someone else, a total stranger, who in the "real world", given who he is, I would have never had the kind of conversation with that I eventually did over the 2.5 hour flight. 

And once again, over a conversation ranging from the battle between i-banking, consulting, private equity and industry to  that between India, china and the world, to that between romanticism and pragmatism, life and dreams, heart and mind - I once again realized how incredibly easy it is sometimes to open up to strangers and admit your deep fears and conflicts that you don't even discuss with yourself. It defies logic, how we can tell a complete stranger your secret guilt, your conflicts, your "story". I think it comes from the freedom  of not being judged, or not caring about being judged. I don't know if I will ever meet him again - so much older, senior, busier, so very much unlike me in the person he is - but those 2.5 hours were special just for the unique freedom that came with it, something that even the mirror cannot afford. There's so little to lose, so much to gain - esp a stranger's ability of reading between your sentences and in your eyes of what you're really saying. A stranger's ability of making you think!

And then the beautiful facet of discovering how all people are basically the same - suffering similar basic existential questions in their mind few years apart, going through the same agonies halfway across the globe, and alternating between the same few so-called philosophies of living.

It's beautiful.