Every time it's the end of the monsoon, I become a flanneled fool. At least in spirit. To any non-cricket lover, of course, you have no idea of what I am talking about. Its when I feel most patriotic towards the country;when my mood is completely dependant not on how well I am doing in life's challenges but how Sachin and Kumble are; when newspapers are read/not read depending upon how the Indian team is doing; when everything else becomes a blur as we await the new cricket season's delight and torture.
Wishing suddenly takes on a different meaning; lucky seats are alloted within the family and it is quickly ascertained who the "panwati"(unlucky omen) is. Life becomes uncomplicated. If India win, I dont snarl at anybody. Otherwise, even the most beautiful winter day gets a passing mark from my side.
Sometimes I wonder how I feel to be a slave to the emotions that arise in me when an international season is about to start. But I have a good feeling this time... I think we are going to thrash the Aussies...
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Its a cruel, bitter world, with very less joy- or so it seems. This is my way of making you smile, inspite of everything, and feel good, even if it's for a minute.
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