My Spiritual Realization

One:

I had a brilliant holiday in Kolkata last month; the weather was perfect, the drinks were flowing freely and the awesome gang had met in big numbers yet again. I often got a chance to brag about my first blog, making a lot of my friends read it even though we were perpetually sloshed the whole time. I did get a lot of compliments though, and even had a mighty long conversation with my cricket crazy friend regarding Dravid and the blog. But soon it got even better. I was in Kolkata, and what else could have happened? Yep, I saw the Eden Gardens. I was awe-struck. I was seeing the most fantastic cricket stadium in India. One could say “The Mecca” of cricket is The Lords in London or The Kensington Oval in Barbados, but for us Indians (for whom a cricket match is neither a family picnic nor an event where retired gentlemen sip beer and clap,) it had to be this majestic structure in front of us we were insanely staring at. Mixed emotions hogged my mind. The earliest cricketing memory I had (of watching live television broadcast of cricket) was of the 1996 ODI World Cup, held in the sub-continent. Other than the legendary Indo-Pak match at Bangalore (well who can forget Jadeja’s clobbering of Waqar in the death and Venky’s fitting answer to Sohail's loserish batting aggression), I only remember one other match, one which has to qualify as the most horrible ODI I would have ever watched; the semi finals against Sri Lanka at this very ground. The match was a disaster and the humiliation suffered was going to hurt for a really really long time. I could have cried that night. In fact, I don’t remember, I might have shed a few tears on my pillow before I fell asleep. But I said mixed emotions; mixed because the other big memory I had of Eden Gardens was of a date 5 years later when undoubtedly the most fantastic turnarounds of test match cricket was witnessed. Now do I really need to mention more about that one? ;)

So there we were, staring at a stadium which probably meant more than the sacred-est of sacred places of India, speechless, at least me, because I had so many things running in my head at that moment. Though suffering from a highly delayed renovation schedule, which was well noticeable, the stadium looked a real master piece, giving me an impression that once completed, it would look like one of those fantastic English football stadiums. And a fortnight later, when the latest pictures of the renovated exteriors were out in the media, I realized I wasn’t wrong. It was a nice feeling, because once back in Bangalore I was now bragging to my fellow colleagues that I got a chance to see Eden Gardens (Not that it amused many people, but was a pretty nice feel good!).

Two:

Now, there was a different side to this feeling too. I couldn’t stop wondering why CAB was struggling to meet the renovation deadlines. I mean you would have put your money on them when you knew the CAB President was none other than Jagmohan Dalmiya, who has been ICC President during a World Cup (1999) and BCCI President during a World Cup (2003). And when the country was recovering from the humiliation suffered in the hands of the international media during the CWG 2010, you would expect a cash rich organization like BCCI to be a little more cautious. But that wasn’t to be the case. It was going to be like a reminder that whatever happens, whoever is the organizer, this was still India, chalta hai boss!

The writing was on the wall; the match whole of Kolkata was looking forward to, had to be shifted. The India-England tie of 27^th February was not going to be a part of Eden Gardens’ history anymore. It was going to be a treat for some other Indian city to host that match, and thanks to BCCI for considering that the Chinnaswamy Stadium had no high profile matches scheduled, the host was decided to be Bangalore! Awesome! 

Three:

So we got down to work and we meant business. This was the best thing to have happened to us Bangaloreans. With originally the India vs. Ireland match being the only match for the home fans here, this was a golden opportunity for us to be a serious part of WC 2011. The ticketing logistics took some time because of the rescheduling and it was announced that on 24th February 9000 tickets, meant for the public, would be sold at the stadium in 4 different counters at 8 am. A plan was made. Four of us, me, a senior colleague and two school time mates decided to reach the venue at 2-3 am and queue up for the tickets. We were determined to make it and weren't ready to back off. We had to get the tickets and be a part of this World Cup. So we reached the venue at 3 am. By now we were seven, including few friends of friends. The scene was quite magnificent. I had never seen Bangalore carry off so much craziness ever before. I was absolutely stunned; well actually terrified, mortified, petrified, stupefied by the scene. I had reached the stadium only to see more than 5000 fellow Bangaloreans already waiting to queue up. It was just 3 am! Thousands were sitting on MG Road, thousands were inside Cubbon Park and thousands were busy parking their vehicles. 

What was even crazier was that the crowd consisted of quite a number of girls, and I even spotted one family, a couple probably in their higher forties with their daughter. Not just that, as we interacted with a few standing around us, we realized that many in the crowd had actually come from other Indian cities to watch this match. A lad from UP didn't even know when the tickets were going to be issued. This one person from Orissa, who was in totally tattered clothes and wrapped in a shawl to beat the cold and had landed here in a train's general compartment told us that he was planning to buy the Rs. 1250 ticket! That was what we were there for! I realized the economic condition of the Indian cricket fan was not going to have any relation with which ticket he would be buying. He would have probably taken months to save for this ticket and the train journey, but he wasn't going to compromise. Hats off, I thought! 

Meanwhile, the cops would not allow a queue up and were constantly busy scaring the crowd, trying to get them to disperse. But soon I realized what this match really meant for the Indian cricket fan. Because within hours, I was seeing a good 10000+ crowd taking on the few cops who were guarding the stadium. We wanted to queue up for the tickets. We were not going to disperse. It was a war like situation. It reminded me of the scenes of the Egypt and Libyan uprising I had been watching on TV the past few days. The crowd was really massive now. The faint traffic that would otherwise have crossed Queens Road without any challenge was now part of a huge traffic jam. They had nowhere to go thanks to the crowd. A biker was also thrown to the ground for trying to shout his way through. 

In between all this, my office colleague and I tried our best to push our way through and reach as far as one could get. Our WWE skills were about to be tested here. I was even ready to give a few low blows to make my way ahead. We were fairly successful as we got to the queue up area once, but the police yet again lathi charged us away from there. In the process I saw my colleague fall down, actually trip on someone already on the ground and I was beginning to fear a stampede, when somehow he got back onto his feet. We made a second unsuccessful bid to reach the queue area but yet again the police came charging at all of us. This time around it was me struggling to stand up right. I was almost going to fall, when someone fell on my leg and my shoe was half out. I couldn't move that leg, if not I'd have lost my shoe so I had to stay unmoved. A cop was quick to notice that the people around me were not dispersing (thanks to my unmovable leg) and smack landed his lathi, right on my shoulders. For a few seconds I didn't feel anything but slowly and steadily the shoulder started to hurt. I feared this was the end of my struggle. People were constantly falling down, and that could prove really dangerous. We later witnessed some unfortunate scenes of stampede on TV and a few of the injured looked serious and were being taken to medical help on a stretcher. 

Well, this was the second time in two days crazy Indian Cricket fans had fought so hard for a few tickets. On 21st February an estimated ten million people tried logging into the official ticketing website which was selling 4000 tickets for the tournament finals. Again, absolutely crazy isn't it! 

Four:

The only other lathi moment in my life has to be during a test match I happened to see at the Bangalore stadium when I was probably in my 8th grade. It was one of the middle days of an Ind-Aus epic on a typical cloud covered gloomy Bangalore day, where the irritating drizzle kept adding to the over night rain only to delay the days start to the post lunch session. Our group was extremely energetic, especially me, as it was my first time inside a cricket stadium and the excitement was killing me! India were 7 wickets down the previous evening and once the action started the Aussie attack took not more than 15-20 minutes, if I remember right, to pack up India’s tail. The next innings started soon and it was our chance to bowl. We were in the gallery stand (which is probably the best place in a stadium if you want to experience the real cricket frenzy Indian crowd) near third man and Javagal Srinath was the fielder there. Though a local man the crowd wasn’t too amused; just a few of us were screaming his name as he walked to his position before every delivery. And then, a few over’s later, something incredible happened. Srinath was replaced by Tendulkar at third man. The crowd went berserk. It was a stampede situation. Thousands of us ran towards the boundary railings to be a part of history; to be standing in the same square furlong as ‘God’. The cops in the stand were absolutely clueless about controlling this crowd and so the lathicharge began! In the few seconds that followed we were blindly running upwards away from the boundary line. Jus when I felt I was safe enough to stop running and turn back to get another glimpse of him, I heard the sweet sound of timbre along with a pinching feeling of pain. Well, I was just hit by a cop! Another first experience I can say, though not totally a great one, but when combined with the innocence and excitement of a 14 year old cricket fan in India who has just seen Tendulkar for the very first time standing right in front of him, the pain could only disappear and every moment that followed for quite a while had to be filled with extreme awesomeness!

Five:

But the energy and excitement of a cricket fan in India actually gets better with age. I remember those days in college when cricket was in the air! You could literally smell it, feel it around you. First was the ODI WC 2007. Another disaster I must say though. Losing to Bangladesh in match one and then to Sri Lanka in match three, we were out of the tournament in less than a week. The good part? Well, Pakistan followed us. Actually that was the awesome part, because fans in India were actually thrilled by the fact that while we lost to a decent Bangladesh side, Pakistan had lost to an unknown Irish team. It was then announced that the first t20 WC would be held later that year. Tendulkar, Ganguly & Dravid pulled out of that. Dhoni was made the captain. Not everyone would have given the new young team any chance whatsoever but as the tournament got closer cricket was yet again in the air. I was staying in a 3 bedroom house, more famously ‘Srinivas House’, and popular because we had a TV. I picked up a contagious eye infection as the tournament started and some of my flat mates fled the house. But as the tournament progressed and a rejuvenated Indian team showed signs of fearless ruthless cricket the attendance of my friends at Srinivas House got a lot more regular. Soon, everyone had the infection, and every game we played was a crazy drunk house party. Some of the most entertaining cricket ever played in history was witnessed and this little two week phase became the absolute highlight of my 4 year stay in Manipal. It was one crazy turnaround for Indian cricket. About six months prior to this, the Indian team was knocked out of an ODI WC in the first round, and now a young team led by a new captain had knocked out some pretty serious teams and reached the finals. We were ready for the battle. The nine of us, all with the eye infection, painted our faces and wore India colors as we geared up to witness an epic India-Pakistan face off. The next three and a half hours were my craziest ever in history and as mallu took the all important catch, we had sealed a WC win after 24 long years. We were World Champions yet again. India was a party place. Not millions, but billions were celebrating. The heaviness in the hearts of every Indian cricket fan was gone. There was only going to be a feel good, a feel awesome I must say, and that too for a long long time!

I never before realized the real importance of the connection between these above mentioned stories, but if I were to connect the dots here and reach a conclusion, it would be a spiritual realization for me. 

"Cricket is my religion! Tendulkar is my God! India is my prayer!"