Tuesday, February 8
Cricket and the Dork Side
All this doesn't even bring me close to the halfway score. But its better than starting at the top of a steep slide.Ahem! Back to the promise. Honestly, it was not even a promise. Forget solemnity and serious crap like that. It so happened, that one bedraggled soul revealed her ignorance with the sport called Cricket and got a somewhat more enlightened one started into what was soon to become a horridly detailed view of the thing. As fact after funny fact made its way into my skull against the guard I had put in place years ago, my mind travelled back to the days when Sunday morning was heaven.
My knowledge levels in all matters cricket have never been anyone's envy. Yet, owing to a father neck deep into it and the avrage smalltownish cricket-doped environs, I did stand in for impromptu crickety sessions (so called because games then were referred to as bat-ball games).I devotedly followed the Sunday morning line-up of cartoon shows on Doordarshan. There were Disney's Aladdin and Batman among others. I missed special art classes, family events, social gatherings for my bit of heaven. I even avoided friends who were inconsiderate enough to drop in. Sometimes when under the strict gaze of ma, I had to meet them, I tried and converted them.
The promise? Yes, getting to it. It's simple really, there were only two things that ever kept me from Sundaying. One was Math (pending homework, that came to the notice of dad), or Cricket. I could never (still can't) fathom the extent of insensibility that Doordarshan suffered from to be able to scrape an entire Sunday for a bunch of... Gasp!I made a Bruce Wayne kind of vow (in my sub-conscious thank you!) to be uncricketical for life. I don't get it and I don't like it. I thought this might be a good time to remind myself. The dork side is where I belong.