My heart was missing several beats over the past five minutes. It would have missed even further. It was choking as well. The one that didn't miss, was pounding hard. Wasn't able to breathe easy. Couldn't even manage a smile. Anxious and nervous. The face stoic. Almost expressionless. Deceptive. As I watched the monitor, I looked at the digital chrono on the screen. Another 7 minutes for the scheduled close. There! Another beat missed. And then came the final blow! And the heart exploded to a joy. I looked around. Nobody there. I managed a smile. Five days of agony. And India had won! For those who don't understand what that means, "Welcome to the life called Cricket." For those who say "Cricket? And Life? Bollocks!", I have just two words "Fuck Off!!!" And my middle finger to you as well Mr. Bernard Shaw! Some asses with a gift of words, seldom have gift of sense. Cricket may not be the most beautiful game, for it is not about gimmicks and...
art and science of rambling . . .