Blog 2 - My First Love

My First Love

No, I won’t get too personal here.

It was summer of ’92. Even though India had lost in the semifinals of the World Cup, the game left a lasting impression on me. I got so hooked to Cricket, which today has imbibed into my soul so much that not a day goes without thinking about the game.

I would give cricket commentaries in the midst of anything. My murmurs during night while I was asleep became talk of the family. Once, one of my visiting cousins, J Bond from Jumba land (name and city changed intentionally) had to face my cricketing idiosyncrasy. I threw him a question, “What is the score?”. Before he could answer, the batsman had hit a four in my figments of imagination and I had to get along with the commentary. I went, ”Whack! There goes the ball”, and the next moment Bond was on the floor – such was the impact of my kick. As per his own confessions later, never ever did he share a bed space with a GUY.

My commentaries became atrocious. It could be heard anywhere and in anything that I did- studies, dinner time and even during nature calls. Some during nature calls went along these lines, “Oh, what a pity? It is an over throw” or “That is out of the park”. (No pun intended here and hope I am not being gross).

When I became 14 I decided, enough is enough. I will try a hand at being a professional cricketer. I had a cricket kit arranged with a friend and we went for an under-15 district selection camp. My professional career was to be short lived though. Padding up for the first time was no fun as it felt grumpy all over the body. After a few well played deliveries off the bat and the pad, two consecutive deliveries went through my defenses to knock of my bails and that was it. The selector was like, ”Ok kid, next’.

We cousins had fun and adrenaline filled weekends revolved around the Sunday-League (abbreviated as S-League). We used to get together on Sundays for long days of cricket in TM compound. Even though it may sound very amateurish, it was not. This for me has been the most intense form of games ever experienced or heard about. Often the games led to huge fights between brothers. There were times when viewing neighbors thought it was time to take their kids off the scene as fights went into a mode which are generally shown on the TV with the tag- Do not try this at home.

When I was to board flight to a country (alien to cricket) for my master’s degree, I thought that is the end of cricket for me. But it was not to be. I became part of a college group called FAU Cricket and we bunch of friends started Saturday cricket matches in basket ball courts of the university. I still follow cricket matches (virtually every day) through various online streaming sites. My phone calls with my brothers iccha(elder bro) and occhi (younger bro) most often ends up in cricket discussion.

I am still in love!

Blog 1

My Artistic Experiments (or accidents)

Did I ever have the talent to draw? I never knew, neither do I now. The last time I drew something significant I remember was when I was in eighth or ninth grade (don’t know exactly). It was a brave attempt and seemed to have been a fulfilling one – A lonely deer meandering in a forest. The drawing was well appreciated by my kin and friends alike. My dad even offered me to take me to a renowned artist so that I can develop my skills. A lazy kid as I was, never showed any sort of interest and that was the last time I touched pencil or a paint brush again.

Do pictures come to life? Indeed it did in my case. It was a hiking trip with some of my friends to the marshy swamps of Everglades, Florida. Somebody spotted a stag (maybe my deer’s hubby!) and I promptly captured it in my camera. I did not think about it until recently. It seems like a strange coincidence, a lonely stag(anomalous to my deer), captured in my camera(distantly anomalous to my paint brush).I find this strange as I was the one who got this picture perfectly in the frame even though there was other friends with camera.

I do have the picture, but don’t quite know where the drawing is. Maybe I may pull that out of the huge pile of books at my home in Kasaragod, when I go there next.

Portrait Attempt

Recently, I got a revelation – I need to draw something. Maybe that was an excuse to stay away from my thesis work, which has been pinching my conscience for some time now due to its complexity in thought process and execution.

I googled for pencil sketches, and printed out a sketch of a lion. The drawing took me less than half an hour(actually it looked better than the original one) giving tremendous boost to my confidence. What next – a portrait?. Yes, exactly. But whose? Googled again. The portrait that struck me was that of the green eyed afghan girl of National Geographic fame.

Sharbat Gula, had eyes that depicted the war torn country’s emotions. Eyes that had apprehension and loneliness written all over. It seemed like she was waiting for somebody. These things made the picture very complex. When the drawing was done, it did resemble the original picture even though the resemblance was a bit remote and seemed like the 13 year old was pictured about 5-6 years later! I will buy that, as it was my first attempt.

Do these pictures hold any coincidence for me? A lion meandering in front of me – No, I prefer not. A green eyed girl waiting, that looks like a nice prospect!