One billion hopes

Blogging is a difficult proposition, at least,for somebody like me with a retaining capacity as infamous as that of the goldfish. That perhaps explains why i have three drafts on three different and varied topics in my blog dashboard. But today when my girlfriend was wondering aloud,( a lil too loud) on why we Indians are so big suckers when it comes to cricket and its like a huge and massive peer pressure in this country that if we don't watch cricket or cheer ourselves hoarse, we are not INDIAN enough, did this thought come into my mind and m trying my best to pen it down before another bout of amnesia tightens its grip on me.

Once as a kid watching cricket on the TV, a placard grabbed my attention . It simply read,"Cricket is my religion, Sachin is my GOD". Of course that was then when Sachin Tendulkar was the lone shining knight of Indian cricket.No body I reckon could have said it better.

Today when India is poised to take off and be soon an economic powerhouse in its own might, spare a thought for the 70's and 80's when our experiment with socialism left us bereft of any thing to look forward to. The masses knew one thing and one thing alone, toil for petty wages, just about enough to break some bread and afford a roof. Amidst all this depression Indira Gandhi introduced Television and it soon turned out to be the new opium of the masses. Call it destiny or sheer serendipity but an entire nation watched in first disbelief and then euphoria,a second rate, third rung bunch of underdogs beating the goras (as literary license, m including west indies in the gora list too) in their own den and come back victoriously with a World Cup. It seems India was waiting for this moment.

They say things were never the same again. This one win galvanized the nation into one strong cohesive entity. Millions of voices cheered as one and on some not so fortunate nights million cried in dismay but they never stopped loving cricket. Cricket became synonymous to social gatherings. Panchayats used to take place with a television occupying the cetrestage while the rich and elite in their fancy parties, while sipping scotch, were discussing the stance of Gavaskar or the bowling arm of Kapil Dev . The very fabric of society was being rewound by cricket for perhaps for the first time in India the war cry of the rich also had a tenor of the poor mingled in it.

And then came Tendulkar. Growing up in a remote sleepy town in Jharkhand, among all the memories I can possibly cherish, I figure Sachin played a part in most of them. With doordarshan sucking the way it did, Cricket was perhaps the only watchable thing on TV. And with power supply being as erratic as erratic can be, tuning the radio with five friends in a huddle, straining the hearing limits to catch every word of commentary or sneaking a radio into the classroom and trying best not to get caught are memories that look so hollow in print. Perhaps the best compliments those days used to be, "you bat like sachin" or for that matter ,"you look like sachin". It was every budding cricketer's dream
to hear something on those lines and in those days,mind you, all of us had a budding cricketer in us.

Then came the alleged lean patch for Sachin and everybody it seemed was busy predicting the number of days before the lil master hangs up his boots for they all agreed that end was near. Amidst all this din, one man was unperturbed. He adapted, was now less flamboyant and more mature. Then the self proclaimed experts went on to say, "Sachin has lost his class and his touch". Time and again the master kept on delivering the goods but people were busy penning epitaphs and obituaries for him.

And today when somebody scored his maiden century and took three vital wickets and was yet reduced to a footnote on the pages of history the lil master very subtly sent out the message that he was still very much there and was as good if not better. And when yet India lost today, millions groaned in dismay but millions still savored the master's class and only a fool dare be the naysayer for when Sachin bats the gods sit back and marvel.

So coming back to my gf's question, yes we are suckers when it comes to cricket and we would very much like to be exactly that. Cricket is not merely a game for us, its engrained into our very souls.Its not just a game because I know that my applause and my groans mingle with millions of my countrymens' into one deafening roar. Its not just a game because over the years it has given me hope when I was down. Its not just a game because I have vivid memories of me spending some of the most cherished moments of my life watching it with people I love and care about. Its not just a game because it has given me all that and much more.