This post consists of the thoughts that I scribbled in April 2010The present condition of Indian Cricket reminds me of a famous poem of Eliot and I would like to share my thoughts about Indian CricketThe Wasteland of Indian Cricket(With Due Apologies to Mr. T.S.Eliot)April is the cruelest monthBreeding hatred and mistrust in benign heartsMixing memory and desireStirring old reminiscences with novel accents.Winter kept them warm…Wrapping distrust in tepid smilesNourishing us with balmy postures.Summer surprised us…Both came to the limelight with one sweet tweetThe sweetness vanished and it became sour tweet.Overnight friends became foes..Unknown beautician became a primetime celebrityNews channels suddenly got a spicy pie to distribute.Other important national issues lost the sheenAll energies were engaged to trace the route fromGod’s own Land to Paradise on EarthSon of God’s own land..Now we cannot say or guess…Were you mentoring for your own land orProtecting the sweat of the Paradise on Earth.We know these things don’t bother youFor you only know a sweet smileOn a sweet face and her sweat..Now you realizeThe grand old tree gives not shelterThe grand empress no solaceThe young scion nowhere to be seen..You hope for a shadow..but Old friends show their back.Now you see something different fromEither your shadow at morning marching behind youOr her shadow in the evening struggling to be with youor their shadows at night rising to meet you..They called you The Global Leader of Tomorrow.. The Pride of IndiaWhen you came back from the big battlefieldBeaten and bruised but with your head held highWe welcomed you for you made us proud.You were our hope then.. you still are.Our prayers are with you.You will overcome..Mr. Maverick, (an arrogant egoist)Have you felt the pinch? You set a trail with a sweet tweet..Are you the illegitimate father of the million dollar baby that you flout ?Or it is someone else’s entrusted to your care?Mr. Someone, has your child outgrown you?Is it too hot to handle now?Or you want to dump it now having smelled the rat?Mr. Maverick don’t just warn your enemiesDon’t just caution your friendsDon’t just hide the beans and threaten to spill them.Please for God’s sake come clean..Golden City full of muckGolden people with hearts of filthRun for a golden cover in this muckstorm.All confess just 70 drops of sweat had undone so many.Why are your sighs so short and infrequent now?It was not so long ago when all you golden peopleFixed your eyes before Mr. Maverick’s feetAnd followed him down every street.For you your golden muck was more precious thanThe fate of the nation.You followed him to distant shores not willing to waitTill the fate of the nation is sealed.May we now ask why did you do so?Let us not forgetThe corpse Mr. Maverick planted three years agoThe corpse that his golden friends nurtured.It has begun to sproutHold your breathIt has turned into a monster.Will it swallow all this year?The sunrise seems distant…The mudslinging continues….
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