Chak De!

It seemed that a curfew had been imposed on Village R. The roads wore a deserted look and the one or two brave people who had managed to venture out, quickly hobbled on. The students had managed to get the class dispersed in record time and were seen sprinting towards their hostels. As I walked past Alpahaar, I saw the barren landscape and my heart skipped a beat. What was the world coming to, I thought. And then it struck me. It was the final match of the Twenty20 world cup and that too India Vs Pakistan.
I reached my hostel and was greeted with the sound of rejoicing from a mile away. I believed someone had scored. As I wearily pushed my way past the crowd, I realised that a batsman had just been dismissed. I somehow managed to mingle with the crowd, lest some superstitious soul pointed her finger at me and had me thrown out of the TV room.
I managed to find a small corner for myself and settled to watch the proceedings. It seemed that all the girls of R had turned up to watch the encounter. Every ball which made it past the boundary was applauded while every dismissal led to shrieks. I was pretty sure that my ear drums would burst.
The match managed to reach the half level mark(my ear drums were still intact) and my first thoughts were to scourge for a good seat. But even the others were no fools. Nobody even moved an inch, lest their seats were taken.
Anyway the match proceeded with Pakistan making an impressive start. And then a wicket fell. Along with that, our mess secy came with the good news that the mess timings had been extended on account of the match. Loud cheers followed.
The match proceeded and along with that the oohs and aahs increased. And then Shahrukh Khan appeared on the screen. The poor soul had come to see the match but one has to pay the price of being a celebrity. He waved and the intensity of the shouts increased. He went and the girls sighed. Coming back to the match, each wicket was greeted with dancing which could have put even the cheerleaders to shame.
The finale of the match was the last over. Even atheists were seen fervently praying to God. As the last wicket fell, the whole room erupted with screams. People jumped on to the tables and strangers hugged each other. It seemed as if each and every one had been there on the field. The happiness in everyones eyes was unmistakeable. Messages were being sent at a fast pace and calls were being made to spread the good news.
I managed to escape the happy riots by a fraction of a whisker. I am still in one piece(given the fact that I did appreciate the Pakistanis time and again, and in doing so, managed to irk quite a many people.)
I have just been informed that a dance party is being organised to celebrate the victory. Well, I plan to go and have a ball. Chak de India!!

Ye Haath Mujhe De De....

As I sat down to write my exam, I happened to glance across my desk. And there deeply engraved on the bench was the four letter "F" word and its equivalent hindi translation. Not that I was shocked. Two years in college have greatly improved my vocabulary. I have learnt anatomy in MD classes. But the best thing, are the various signs which are made to vent out frustrations.
Nowdays fingers are used for many other things apart from counting. It was earlier taught that pointing fingers is rude. Now I know that pointing middle finger in worse. I once happened to see a presentation in which the speaker kept pointing at the transparencies with his middle finger, oblivious to his mistake. Recently my friend returned from abroad. She brought with her the learning that pointing thumbs also means the same thing. The index and little fingers when pointed upwards together, also refer to the same thing in some Scandinavian country. And Ross had already taught us the use of our fists. I now feel that it is safest to walk with my hands in my pockets. But that is also a sign of insolence. I really feel that at least Sholay's Thakur was happy in one way. He didn't have to worry which way his fingers were pointing. :)