Olympic Shining…

Back when India was Shining, Delhi prepared to bid for the 2020 Olympics. Then things happened. The success of CWG and IPL happened. We got busy with committing crimes of morality and character. We next spent time protesting the very same crimes that we and our ilk are still committing. We worked doubly hard to ensure that our GDP growth slowed down. If we had some spare time at hands, we counted, recounted and compared the number of communal incidents in Gujarat with Bihar. One leader would not dare talk. Another would not dare stop talking. We won the Cricket World Cup. But we had even bigger glories – Kolkata Knight Riders won the IPL. Chennai Super Kings won the IPL. And then, Mumbai Indians won the IPL too. Sreesanth managed to get himself eligible to enter the Big Boss. Impressed by the macro-environment conditions for growth in India, Sunny Leone flew down to India. Somewhere in the melee, we managed to get our Indian Olympic Association banned. Our IOA Administrators took on IOC with courage that sadly our very same leaders miss when it comes to national security. John Abraham learnt to act. Ravindra Jadeja learnt to bowl.

Salman Khan took time off from driving on footpaths and did yeoman service to the society by attempting to make Rs. 200 Crore movies for those people whose IQs are close to Rahul Gandhi’s. He was successful. And Shahrukh Khan made his 300 Crore movies for exactly the same target audience. They both hugged, and the nation wept. Rohit Shetty made crap. Karan Johar made “Student of The Year”. Jagan Reddy became “Businessman of the Year Century”. Robert Vadra became “Farmer of the Millennium”. And then Yeddyurappa happened. Reddy Bros rose. And then they fell. YSR flew in a helicopter. Kingfisher stopped flying. Mayawati ran out of land to build statues for herself and her elephants. The Indian Rupee edged well past the Retirement Exchange Rate vs the Dollar to become eligible for Senior Citizen concessions. Meanwhile the US economy deteriorated, and now we come to an age, where a Dollar can’t buy Onions or Petrol in India. Of course, the resilience and inclusiveness of our economy, we can get food for 12 Rs a plate. Our Government declared a hundred Rajiv Gandhi Yojanas. Brand Gandhi transformed from mahatma to Rahul.

2G happened. Adarsh happened. CoalGate happened. RailGate happened. CWG evolved from Games to Scam. Srinivasan resigned from BCCI. Sachin Tendulkar did not. And Narayan Murthy re-signed on to Infy. Subbarao stopped signing on the Rupee. Raghuram Rajan started signing on the Re/-. Priyanka Chopra started singing. Honey Singh started rappin’. Rajini became Robot. Robot became PM. Aishwarya became Mummy. ND Tiwari became Daddy. Mamata Di got angry and left in a huff to Bengal. She had Maoists to hunt. Arnab Goswami got angrier. The Pakistanis came. Then came the Bangladeshis. Then the Chinese. Then the Burmese. The Lankans have always been coming. The Italians came a long time back. 1 Billion Became 1.3 Billion. Jobs went. Bal Thackeray went.  Dara Singh went to heaven. Vindoo Dara Singh went to prison. Chinese built Smart phones came, the smart people went. Yash Chopra departed. Uday Chopra came back.

Today, Japan has won the bid for the 2020 Olympics, while Delhi was not even in the race. And unless the Japanese cheques bounce or we export Kalmadi and Lalit Modi to Japan quick, Japan will successfully organize the games. No worries. After all, we could not win the Olympic bid because of global factors. The QE Tapering affected our chances. And of course, Olympics are communal. Maybe there was a conspiracy to keep us out – the ubiquitous Foreign Hand. Congratulate the Japanese and shout #MeraBharatMahaan. Poor Japanese, they can have the Olympics, we will still have Telangana and A.Raja.

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All Hail God !!

Beware! There is a new breed of fundamentalists at loose in the society. They are aggressive, they are abusive and they tolerate no dissent. I came across them in the Republic of Facebookistan. They apparently are also a very vocal majority in places like Unites States of Twitteristan and Republic of Rediff-ia.

I always think of paying obeisance to god before starting with a post. I have ample choices in this regard. At last count, there were 33,000,000 Hindu gods, one Muslim god, and three Christian gods – bringing the grand total of my choices to 33,000,004. I could choose any one of them and proceed with my work. But then it hit me. There was a new entrant in this elite club of 33,000,004. And it was essential that I bow my head to this new entrant irrespective of my faith or whim. Presenting Sachin Tendulkar..

The God

The God

This universal fact – Sachin Is God – has been thrown on me all over the country. From the seedy bars of Moradabad to the glitzy pubs of Bangalore, from stinking beaches of Madras to dingy alleys of Delhi. It is a non-negotiable fact – because duh, it is a fact that is universal. My stupidity has been exposed time and again by the devotees of Sri Sri Sachin baba. After all, statistics prove that Sachin is our God. And religion is after all, a science. Faith needs numbers to back it up.

I always thought Sachin was a great athlete – a prodigy. Or a once in a generation cricketer. I think his superhuman miracles have been eluding me because I have been sitting huddled in a cave. My Bad!!

I still remember, the day he decided to retire from one days. The frenzy of the fans – they declared “Cricket” dead that day. Trillions of devotees declared that they would stop watching One Day Internationals. Billions declared that they would stop watching cricket altogether  Never mind, if IPL is the only cricket they have ever seen.

But do we remember the day when Sachin was booed in Wankhede? And do we remember telling our friends that it is time that Sachin should retire and make way for youth?? Do we remember arguing in favor of his retirement? No, our memories are so loyal. They only exist as we want them to. We only remember what we want to remember. In extremes.

If I was Sachin, I would probably sit in the corner of a cricket field and weep. Weep out loud. Weep at the IQ of my fans. Weep at the replacement MY loyal devotees brought – a certain Sir Ravindra Jadeja. Weep at the blindness of fans to not see true genius. Weep at the whimsical nature of fans, which makes them make a god of a mortal, and which then makes them trash the same god. Weep at the stubbornness of fans to lose faith in their gods. And weep at the illusion of power the fans have, that they control time.

While I decide whether to accept an imperfect god, maybe the devotees can start looking for their next messiah. A few already have hopes from the Son of God. Till you make up your minds, let me begin…

Long Live Lord Sachin!!

While Heroes Rise And Heroes Fall…