Persecution of a Hero

As I type, the 5th ODI between India and Australia is unfurling rather distastefully for many of us. The intention behind this blog is not to dissect or analyise the match. I don’t intend to examine strategies or discuss tactics. My sole intention is to tell people to BACK OFF!

Sachin’s name has gone down in history as one of the greatest sportsmen ever. This isn’t even open to debate. To people across the globe from different strata of society, Sachin has been a hero. Irrespective of the color of our skin or the religions we segregate ourselves into, Sachin has consistently unified us in our love and admiration for him. Yes my generation has lived the dream – we’ve grown up with a legend. We’ve watched him become the formidable force that he is today and on behalf of my entire generation I say, thank you Sachin!

Yes, we love him! Yes, we worship him! But can we sit back for just one moment and acknowledge how tough a road it has been for him? When you’re placed on a pedestal, your every move is scrutinized and worse, criticized. For decades now, our hero has maintained his quiet dignity and done what he loves best – he’s played cricket with all his heart and soul. How do you imagine it feels to be blamed for a nation’s loss? When our team loses, we pick one person to victimize and blame. I’m sorry, but this makes no sense to me! Yes, today’s score is disappointing at best but to every blog that blames Sachin or claims that Sachin should retire, I have only this to say – Take a close look at today’s score card. With the exception of Zaheer Khan and Irfan Pathan, the rest of the team's collective runs is STILL NOT EVEN CLOSE to what Sachin scored! So all you critics out there, until you can live your life like Sachin has, until you can display skills remotely close to Sachin’s poetic ease on the field, until you can make your country proud like Sachin has, I suggest you switch your channel to one of the many hindi soaps on air.

I’ve never been more proud of this gentle person with the spirit of a giant. In an interview with a television journalist when asked about his career having more lows than highs, Sachin’s response spoke volumes about his quiet confidence. "Go and check up the records," he shot back. "I think you are watching a different game."

Hold on… what’s that I hear? Silence? I thought so!

Khaled Hosseini Made Me Cry

Dear Mr. Hosseini,

This is to inform you that like most men in my life, you made me cry. Now, before you begin to wonder what this is about, no - you've never met me. You don't even know who I am or what I look like. I live half way across the world from you. Yet you made me cry and for that, I thank you!

Emotionally Yours,
Retro Ro

I am an avid reader. Some of my most prized possessions include books that have moved me. I happened to see a copy of Khaled Hosseini's 'The Kite Runner' lying on my cousin's bed one day. Books have a way of drawing me to them and as always, I gave in to the powerful force. After reading just three pages, I was hooked! I spent the rest of the evening with Amir and Hassan and realized soon enough that I couldn't get through the night without finding out what happens to these wonderful characters. I bought myself a copy on the way home (my cousin refused to part with her copy and protected it rather fiercely!) and gave up human company in favor of these lives that were unfolding in front of my eyes. I sobbed for Hassan and worried about Sohrab. I felt Amir's anguish; his urgency to resolve things and make amends. I cried and I cried and the people in this story became real to me. I felt like I was reading the diary of someone I knew really well.

Then one day while at a book store, I saw the latest arrivals. I abandoned my long list of things to buy, only to rush home and begin reading Hosseini's new novel 'A Thousand SplendidSuns'. My mother recognized the signs immediately and knew not to disturb me. I battled with the frustration of life getting in the way - I hated the long breaks from the book while I was at work or other such things. It took me a little longer to finish this book only because I had to sneak in reading sessions between "more important things". This heart-wrenching novel knocked the wind out of me. It moved me intensely. I felt every emotion Mariam felt. I cried for her and her lifetime of emptiness. I cried for Laila and the cruelty of her fate. I cried and I cried...

So you see, I mean it in the best way possible when I say that Khaled Hosseini made me cry. To be able to write words that will move someone so deeply and so strongly, is a gift. He is now one of my favorite authors and I join millions of other fans as we wait eagerly for his next work of art.

Take a bow, Mr.Hosseini!

Like Water in a Jar

Things change, sometimes too easily. It is so much worse when one person changes and leaves the other picking at shards of what once was a great relationship. Why do people get left behind? So now he's gone and she sits there silently, quietly, barely moving.. like water in a jar. She waits. She waits for him to come back so she can feel those ripples of joy again. She sits and waits..

They used to be 'us'. Now they're just two lonely people trying to forget each other. She struggles to forget the way his arm felt around her waist.; the way his hair felt in her hands; the way his smell lingered on her pillow; the way he chewed when he ate; she struggles. He dies a little when he thinks he sees her face in a crowd. He urges himself to forget her soft skin and the way she fit just perfectly in his arms. He pushes away the thought of her warmth and those eyes that spoke. They struggle to forget each other's names.

What came between them? They try to find an answer - as though an answer would alleviate they sorrow. They try to vindicate their feelings. Perhaps they were too young. Perhaps their dreams got in the way. Perhaps they just weren't the same people they were all those years ago. Sometimes, life's biggest tragedies boil down to the simplest things. Yes, they just weren't the same people.

So now they sit, each in their own world. He finds comfort in the new surroundings and she clings on the familiarity of the old. As sunset's shadow descends on their insipid lives, they put together pieces of their memory so as to not lose the past entirely. But memory can be cruel - some moments get lost along the way and slowly you begin to lose the person entirely. So now they sit and remember their lost companions, hoping that maybe one day sweet release will make them forget their names.