Remember the Name

Being a cricket fan, I have often been asked this very normal and obvious question: "Who is your favourite cricketer?", and every single time, without a hesitation I have given the answer "Virat Kohli". Even though I know that most people don't actually say anything, but I know the judgemental looks and thoughts "Oh she likes him just because he is a handsome 24 year old and she is almost 20 herself". These people don't know that back in the 2000s, Mohammad Kaif used to be my favourite player, and no sir, he was not a handsome youngster. So to think that I admire Virat only because he is a handsome 24 year old man and I am barely younger than him is a gross misconception. Yes, I know that A LOT of his female fans like him because of his looks (which is why I hate the stupid "sooo cute" comments on any picture I post of him). Seriously, people?!

Anyway, I've always been into cricket, but it's only recently that I have started appreciating and noticing the finer details of the game- the technical aspects. And I think I have only one person to thank for this- my best friend Aishwarya Kumar. She sits with me in every match and patiently explains what a midwicket six is, what the different stumps are, what is a flat pitch, etc and I'm proud to say that later in the evening when my sister showed me a video of a particular SIXER of Yuvraj, I immediately said "That's a midwicket six."

I am getting off point here.

While watching Virat's innings on television today, I'd be underplaying it when I say I got goosebumps. There was so much passion, so much confidence and so much ambition in every flick of his bat, in every stride of his foot, and every celebratory smile of his. Instead of the usual collection of cuss words he releases into the air, today I saw a genuinely happy man, a man laughing and smiling as he played well, not an arrogant one, but a sheepish, confident one. The Indian bowlers had restricted the English team to a simple 155, and it would have been an easy win for us, and Virat could have easily relaxed and played a slow game, but he wouldn't have it so. He made sure to play the right shots, even though he had a considerably rusty start. Once the first few shots headed to the boundary lines, there was no turning back for him. He had shed the bad form like a snake sheds it's old skin. He was once again his usual lethal and formidable self. 77 not out, with quite a few overs to spare. When he got his fifty his brother from another mother Yuvraj gave him a friendly hug. Even though I always justified Virat's swearing at himself as just a way of expressing himself in his own way, I actually welcomed the fresh change of his celebratory actions today. There was some kind of calming force in him today. Yet, with each shot he played, he was oozing passion.

No, Virat Kohli isn't my favourite cricketer just because he is very very handsome. (And no, I am not saying that I don't find him really attractive).

Virat Kohli is my favourite cricketer because when I see him play for the country, or for his IPL team, I see cricket personified. I see a person doing something he was born to do. A person who was fulfilling his destiny. It's not just a dream, it's a destiny. Whether it is in the way he hits the ball for a sweet four or a scintillating six, or the way he runs from the other end of the field and dives down to take a match saving catch, or the way he throws the ball in the right angle so that it hits the stumps with a cracking sound, I see man who knows what he wants to do, knows exactly what he must do to get there, and does it in a mind ravelling, heart thumping, exhilirating way.

And not to mention, despite his poor advertisement choices, and the negative way the media portrays him, his interviews say otherwise, and something inside of me tells me that this man is a genuinely good person who is just seriously misunderstood.

So that. That is the reason I admire Virat Kohli to the extents that I do.

As for everything this man has achieved in his young age, the lyrics of one of my favourite song fits the bill in describing him:

"Ten Percent Luck,
Twenty Percent Skill,
Fifteen Percent Concentrated Power of Will,
Five Percent Pleasure,
Fifty Percent Pain,
And a Hundred Percent Reason to Remember the Name."

Infinity

My heart was pounding loudly as I entered M.A. Chindambaram yesterday morning.  I was dressed in my Team India jersey, and the tricolor flag was splashed across my cheeks. With the ticket clutched in my palm and my my friend beside me, I made my way to my designated seats. Luckily the crowd hadn't settled in stand "I" yet, so Keerthana and I could stand near the gate or whatever it is that separates us from the players and watch them practice. It was such a wondrous feeling.

Next to our stand, Raina and some bowler was practicing. I watched in awe, as one of the most talented batsmen of the Indian cricket team practiced his batting next to me. After that, the entire team came out and had some practice routine in front of me. My eyes scanned for one and one person alone- my idol, my hero- Virat Kohli. As soon I s spotted him, Keerthana and I started calling out for him. After a point I was speechless and I was just waving wildly. That's when he miraculously turned around, saw me waving, and gave a tiny wave back. I couldn't believe it. I guess that made my day, in so many ways.

Then while they were talking, the both of us cheered for Gauti. I am super proud to announce that he turned back and responded exclusively to the both of us. :'D It was one of the best moments of the day, needless to say. The practice session was such a delight to watch. All the players were doing their own thing- laughing, joking around and practicing hard for the game ahead. The entire ground was cheering and screaming. What a fine frenzy it was!

The 8 hours comprising the match were perhaps the best 8 hours of 2012 for me. First, I witnessed an India-Pakistan ODI live. Second, I got to see my favourite, Virat Kohli play live for the third time.  Third, it was epic. Enough said.

Being there, chanting the names of the various players, screaming and begging them to perform...those moments and memories are so special, so surreal, that I can't even explain. In  college I'm this girl who is loud, but guarded and walled up. But in the stadium, those walls melted...it was as if they never existed. I was the true me, the real me. It was like I had been caged all my life and like I had been set free right then and there. All inhibitions were gone. I screamed my louds, cheered my best, swore when things went wrong, supported them throughout. I danced, sang and completely let lose. I had never felt more alive. I had never though that I had it in me, to be this person, to shed every single layer of fear and consciousness I had and to just...live. It was like that. Such an experience.

Being there, screaming and cheering, Gods, it was out of the world. The recent gang rape case had filled me with a certain kind of resentment for my country. But being there, yelling and chanting my lungs out, I forgot everything. In my dad's words "Nothing brings India together like cricket and war". That moment everyone forgot that they were from different places, had different opinions, castes or religions. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Team India winning. The screams and the names called out were in unison. Unity was there all over. No one faltered. It was the same name on everyone's lips.

I am not as well versed in cricket like Aishu or my dad is. I don't know the technicalities. But I know one thing- I wanted India to win. That was all I was praying for. Each ball, each swing of the bat, I observed everything this time. Each time our bowler surged forward I jumped out of my seat screaming out his name. Each time our batsman lifted his bat his name was on loop on my lips. The passion coursed through me as I did the bhangra. I felt the electricity, the current. I felt the life, the importance, the depth. It was out of the world, it was surreal. No alchololic drink, no nothing could give anyone this kind of high.

The electric current that passed through all of us, the raw passion that burst out of our every moment, every word, it was overwhelming, perfect, heavenly, and surreal. It was out of the world. Unparallel, unbeatable (like the title of my previous cricket match blog title). An out of body, out of world. Only one word came uttered out of all our mouths. One wish. One prayer. One billion hearts- one wish: India should win.

A picture perfect moment. Hands out, faces wrought with emotions, voices screaming out the country's name, the players giving their best, everyone laughing, crying and emoting everything all at once. All the horrors and tragedies forgotten, even if it was only for a few hours. The tricolor flag all over the stadium. Everything perfect, surreal and heavenly. Quoting one of my favourite books "Perks of Being a Wallflower", and in that moment, I swear we were infinite.

Breeding Eternal Misery

"You know what they say about hope- it breeds eternal misery." -Spencer Hastings, Pretty Little Liars.

Being a person who invests a lot of her energy in fictional characters, I tend to think of a lot of quotes said by them during my real life situations. As my friends kept updating me with the scores of the Aus v/s Pak & Ind v/s SA matches while my father drove us home, the above quote by Spencer Hastings was what I kept thinking of.

Hope is such a powerful thing- in the words of President Snow from The Hunger Games, 'Hope, it is the only thing stronger than fear.' Truer words haven't been spoken. Despite all the fear that raced through me during the match, only one thing was stronger than all that fear- hope. Hope that we would play brilliantly, win and enter the semi-finals, hope that our honest and hardworking team would bring the world cup home, hope that good would win over evil. As I clasped my hands knotted in crossed fingers, I kept hoping and praying so much. Despite the gnawing sensation in my head that my precious team wouldn't make it, I still kept hoping.

I have always told everyone that if you lose hope you lose everything, and it's quite true actually. Hope keeps one alive. It sears through your very existence and shines brightly through the darkest of rooms. A flicker of hope is all one needs to move on in life. When people hope, they believe. When they believe, they achieve. When they achieve, they live. Even during the worst of my times I have kept hope.

But off late I have been questioning this very thing called hope. Hope not only keeps you alive, it is also a constant reminder that it could be your very downfall. As I kept hoping for my precious team India to get into the semi-finals, I knew that the stronger I hope, the deeper the cut would be. Hope doesn't just provide one with a reason for living, sometimes it even cuts you open, leaving you vulnerable and open to hurt and sadness. In the words of the intelligent Spencer, it breeds eternal misery.

You keep hoping for something to happen and when it finally doesn't, you feel like a total fool for doing so. This very hope was my downfall during my grandpa's demise. For a whole month, as I saw him deteriorate in front of my eyes I kept hoping he'd be fine again, despite knowing that there was no way that he'd make it. Everyday I kept hoping, because I believed that he would never leave me, his favourite and most special grandchild. When he did leave me, on 1st of July, 2012, I felt thousand times worse than I would have felt had I accepted his impending death a month earlier.

Even after my mother telling me that South Africa had crossed the score of 121, I hoped that we would win and make it into the semi's. When Balaji took that final wicket of Morne Morkel all I could think of was that 'yay, we won, now we can get into the semi's and show everyone else who the true boss is.' And then I saw that terrible sign 'Pakistan enter the finals, India eliminated from the World T20 2012.' That's when reality set in. I saw Virat looking heartbroken, I saw Yuvi talking to the studio about his MOTM looking so disheveled and at that moment the hurt was too much to take in.

I just collapsed on my bed and cursed myself for hoping for the best when I knew in my heart that entering the semi finals was impossible. I mentally slapped myself for believing in the greater good, for believing in humanity, when all I found around me was the victory of the cheaters, the bad guys. I have always maintained that the good will eventually conquer, but you know, it SUCKS when your core beliefs are proven wrong. 

After yesterday's match I didn't know what to believe in anymore. I wanted to stop hoping, because I don't want eternal misery. So many times I think that the state of total unfeeling would be such bliss. I wouldn't have to worry about getting hurt by the results of a match, or worry about the future of my favourite TV show couple. I would just live, and let live. But is it possible for a person like me to strip myself of all the faith, hope and belief that I have accumulated over the years? The very own essence of my personality is that I'm an optimist, a believer, someone who looks for the silver lining in every situation. Will I be able to truly change that? Only time will tell.

Right now, I'm too hurt, disappointed and disturbed with what I've seen around me. No, I'm not talking about just the loss. I'm also talking about the immense amount of hate Virat is receiving for god-knows-what reasons. Graphics are being made out of pictures of him crying, and heartless jokes of him not having a father are being cracked. I saw some Pakistani fan with a shirt that said 'Kohli ka baap.' I felt the bile in my mouth when I saw that picture. I just wanted to rip apart that person and all his/her friends and family for their pathetic and inhuman thoughts. Country based rivalry I can understand, but taking digs at an innocent man about not having a father is just NOT right. 

I also saw a girl post crap about rape being okay if the victims are Indians and Gods, I am ashamed to say I live on the same planet as that despicable being! Get a grip over yourself. Rape is NOT okay, not even for a pathetic excuse for a human like Dolores Umbridge. NO woman deserves that. NO ONE. You call yourself a woman/girl, but I certainly have my doubts about that now! Such things, such people make me weep for humanity.

I guess I'm done with the topic. I had to get all this out of my chest and I just did. I feel as horrible and shitty as I did yesterday. Our country deserved to win and not some losers who played mind games and cheated like crap! True heroes are those who conquer by honest and sincere means, not those who twist everything to their advantage. We Indians are true heroes, our team is the best and we will bleed blue forever.

And to those idiots (such a mild word) who insulted Virat, here's something for you- Virat Kohli is a good man. An honest man, and a humble man. He is the best damn batsman in the world and nothing you say or do will change that. He loves the game and his country and he has, and will continue making us proud. He is an amazing person and we are lucky to have him. He is God's gift to India. Your country or team doesn't deserve a man like Virat Kohli. You know why? Because Virat Kohli is a good man.

Always and forever,

Nidheya.

Bleed Blue Forever

They owe it to Sachin, the greatest player till date.
They owe it to Sehwag, who can defeat even Gayle in the game of sixes.
They owe it to Gambhir, who can be so dependable.
They owe it to Virat, their true hope.
They owe it to Raina, who is our best t20 player.

They owe it to Dhoni, who got us two world cups.
They owe it to Yuvi, who just won the biggest battle of anyone's life.
They owe it to Zak, cuz he is our best bowler.
They owe it to Irfan, who never gives up.
They owe it to Bhajji, who made the best comeback ever.
They owe it to Ashwin, our spin master.
They owe it to Rohit, for he fought back.
Most of all they owe it to INDIA, for we shall forever proudly and loyally BLEED BLUE.
And they also owe it to HONESTY and JUSTICE, because cheaters NEVER prevail.
-Nidheya.

Come on Team India!

Let the magic begin...

TV Show Review: Once Upon a Time

Imagine a world where every character you've ever read of in books are living, breathing people- a world where happy endings exist. And then imagine the most evil witch of all time making a curse where all these characters are transported to our world, with new identities and their memories erased. No one remembers who their parents, children, friends and spouses are. Within a few seconds, their happy endings are turned into living nightmares. 

This is exactly what ABC's Once Upon a Time is about. Ten year old Henry Mills (Jared S. Gilmore) runs away from the fictional town of Storybrook, Maine to find his birth mother Emma Swan (Jennifer Morrison) in Boston as he believes that she alone can unlock the curse that has been put on the residents of his town. He believes that his mother Regina Mills (Lana Parilla) is actually the Evil Witch Queen who cast the spell in the first place. Henry tries to convince Emma that his teacher Mary Margaret Blanchard (Giniffer Goodwin) is actually Snow White and the resident coma patient David Nolan (Josh Dallas) is Prince Charming, and that both of them are actually Emma's parents. According to him, after learning that the Evil Queen was going to bind them with a spell they decide to put their newborn kid in a tree chamber that would keep her safe. After listening to Rumplestiltskin (Robert Carlyle) who tells them that their baby daughter is the only one who can save them, they decide to risk their lives to protect hers.

That is only the basic storyline. As the show progresses each and every fairytale character's back story is revealed, and they are portrayed in an engaging manner of swapping between the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke. Parallels are shown between the lives of the princess/princes and the modern day people. There are different twists to each classic fairytale and it's such a delight to know each of them.

Unlike in the print version where all the heroines are shown as damsels in distress, in Once Upon a Time the female characters are strong and powerful. The feministic flavour of the show is worth relishing. One might not stumble upon the show with an intention to find such strong characters and they will truly be bowled over. 

The cinematography is out of the world, and the locales are just beautiful. The seamless merging of Storybrooke and the Enchanted Forest is shown so brilliantly, and it's a delight to see how smartly the parallels have been drawn between the fairytale characters and their modern day counterparts. The cast is excellent, especially Morisson and Parilla. Young Gilmore excels as well.

This show is a dream come true for so many people who believe that their favourite fictional characters are actually living breathing people. Like the famous Harry Potter quote goes 'It is real for us'. It instills hope in a person and makes them believe in happy endings. It's such a magical and smooth show that each episode leaves the viewer craving for more. And in the words of Mary Margaret Blanchard, 'Believing even in the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing'.

Let the magic begin!

Unparallel, unbeatable.

Unparallel, unbeatable.

The anticipation and anxiety had taken over my body as I clutched Aishu's hand tightly while the auto-rickshaw jolted all the way from my house to the Chidambaram cricket stadium. On reaching there both of us paid the rickshaw driver and ran towards Gate 5 and 7, from where we were to collect our free tickets and meet with our friends Deeptha, Keerthana and Subashini. The atmosphere outside the stadium was really upbeat. Vendors came upto us and quickly started painting the national flag on our faces. I even bought an Indian flag and waved it around proudly as I walked.

A reporter from NTV walked to us and took our interviews. She asked me who my favourite player was and without a moment's hesitation I said 'Virat Kohli' and Aishu said 'Sachin Tendulkar'. On being asked what we wanted Yuvi to score today, both of us said 'a century, we want him to score a century'. Then Aishu's friend Adithya gave us the tickets and we stood outside gate 5, waiting for our other friends. I was getting all panicky and frantic as the three of them hadn't come yet, but when they did, I screamed out in delight. It was finally happening. I was finally going to see my Team India play live.

We were the only girls in a stadium filled with men, and as worried we were about the fact, we didn't think of it much. We were slightly disappointed to learn that the New Zealand players were practicing near our stands and not our Indian ones. But the minute the first Indian player, Irfan Pathan walked into the grounds all of us in our Nike blue jersey screamed out loud for him. The real screams and cheers were heard when our Punjabi prince, my Muthan incarnate, Yuvraj Singh walked out into the field, taking the blessings of mother Earth.

All of us were chanting ecstatically 'YUVI! YUVI! YUVI! YUVI!'. They wouldn't stop. We could see his face on the screen, grinning happily. Standing next to me, Aishu muttered 'oh God he is smiling, he looks so happy!' I looked at her and smiled broadly. I was so happy to see him. The wound of Muthan's loss was still so fresh in my mind that seeing Yuvi there, fine and healthy after beating the nasty cancer made me very, very happy. I had tears of happiness in my eyes. When Virat entered the field everybody screamed, but I just kind of went silent, I have no idea. I was trying to get a better look, but I didn't scream that much, not then.

Long before the match the five of us had exhausted ourselves. We had already screamed so much. We decided to pause and get some snacks and drinks and take a few photographs. Then it was time for the toss. Dhoni and Ross Taylor walked onto the pitch and within moments we learnt that India had won the toss and had selected to field. All of us cheered loudly once again. Then, before we knew it, it was happening- the match was starting.

For the first over of New Zealand's batting innings, Pathan took a wicket. I jumped up and down, roaring like the wild, untamed lioness I am. I turned to Aishu, who looked puzzled. 'WICKET WICKET WICKET' I screamed, before she burst into a happy dance. During the next over Yuvi was standing in front of our stand - not next to the boundary line, much further, but close enough. All of us began chanting 'Yuvi Yuvi Yuvi' again. He turned around and waved amiably. The crowd grew louder. What an amazing sight it was.

For the next over Virat stood where Yuvi was. The crowd started screaming 'KOHLI KOHLI KOHLI' while I screamed 'VIRAT VIRAT VIRAT'. He turned around and waved at the crowd vaguely. A few minutes later Aishu, Keerthana and I began screaming for him again. While they chanted 'Kohli', I screamed 'Virat'. We screamed so much that he turned around properly, looked at us and waved, grinning that trademark sheepish grin of his. We kept screaming for him that he once again turned around, looked at us and signalled us to increase our cheers. We laughed and did so.

I don't know whether it was my overimaginative brain or something, but I think he did turn around quite a few times, looking at us. Twice during a particular over he came towards the boundary line, and both the times I jumped onto my chair like Damon 'Awesome' Salvatore and called out to him, jumping up and down excitedly. He looked back, waved and laughed. I think all these little moments will remain etched in my memory forever. 

When Ravichandran Ashwin came to our boundary line Deeptha went insane. She started screaming for him so loudly that he turned back and waved to her atleast a hundered times (the poor girl almost lost her voice). The bunch of men sitting next to us were very nice. They weren't the typical lechers, they actually cracked good jokes and even helped Deeptha catch Ashwin's attention. I was glad. Maybe not all men here were creeps.

Then it was India's turn to bat, and my favourite Delhi duo of Virat and Gauti opened the innings. I cheered loudly. Each time Virat was at crease I kept screaming out his name and each time Gauti was at crease I kept screaming out his. Whenever it was Virat's turn to bat I became super anxious. I didn't want him to get out. I kept clutching my copy of Muthan &Ammamma's photo, begging for them to make sure he hits his first T20 century and also that India wins the match.

When he got out I just slumped down on the seat, disheartened. He had hit 70 from 41. I then remembered Muthan's text to me after the RCB vs DC IPL11 match 'Virat Kohli played and fell like a hero'. Truer words haven't been spoken. We were 45 from 42 balls. I believed we would have an easy win, but I had wanted Yuvi and Virat to be there till the end. I hated how the crowd cheered when he got out. I get the fact that they love Dhoni way too much, how would the batsman who just got out feel? 

After that the match lost it's previous feel. Dhoni kept hitting singles and dot balls. Yuvraj's midwicket sixes were like the sky opening up after a period of drought, but all that went down in vain. Virat's brilliant knock went down in vain. Yuvi's comeback went down in vain. Despite all of that, he made the best comeback ever and I was SO SO SO SO proud. It was amazing to watch his mother's face light up on seeing his first six. :') Aishu's face too bore a similar expression.

Sometime in between the match Harsha Bhogle passed our stands and Aishu was left speechless. She kept looking at him, her eyes following her idol as he made way to the dug out. I have never seen this noisy little thing so speechless before and I was so happy for her. I knew exactly how she felt, because I would have been the same if it had been my Queen Jo Rowling in Harsha's place. 

I was so hot headed because we had lost the match by one freaking run. We threw away what truly belonged to us. But we did gain a lot too. We saw Yuvi's much coveted comeback. Virat waved at US and turned back and looked at us randomly. Yuvi did a little bhangra for us. Virat played a brilliant knock. Ashwin turned around and waved at Deeptha. Aishu saw Harsha. Aishu and Keerthana cheered on for Sachin despite him not playing. We lost, but we gained a lot too. The five us also made a bond of friendship unique, since none of the others were there to share this special moment with us. No one else knew what it was like to be there, to experience every moment like we did, to feel what we felt when someone special and close to our hearts waved and grinned at us, to feel the ardenaline rush inside us as a ball went for a sixer. It was truly a one of a kind experience, unparallel, unbeatable, and nothing shall ever come close. After all, it's the little things that make all the difference in the world.

I dedicate this post to Virat- a person who means more to me than I care to admit, Yuvi- who made me feel like my Muthan was still beside me, Aishu- my best friend and partner in crime, Deeptha- who almost lost her voice screaming for Ashwin, Keerthana- who continued cheering for Rohit Sharma even though we taunted her about it and Subashini- who is totally insane and fun to be around. Thank you for the memories.

And with this post I'd also like to take the opportunity to congratulate Virat on winning the 'ICC ODI CRICKETER OF THE YEAR' for his extraordinary performance. No one deserves it more, and I'm very proud. :)

Cheers,

Nidheya.