The Cup of Life...

The pulse is riveting, the air pregnant with expectations and the experience should be exhilarating.

Yes, the cup of life is back. It’s been an exquisitely painful wait and the Cup of deliverance is at hand. For weeks, the world has been twittering anxiously, the English (for a change) more involved in the team’s tactics rather than unraveling intricacies of metatarsals ,Kolkata panwallas ready to debate the merits of 4-3-3 and even the most tenacious of housewives taking time off from their tea-parties to understand the offside rule. .The World Cup pushes at the margins of madness in the obsession it incites, in the extremes of elation and despair it provokes .Fans meanwhile will be forced to produce a dexterity  that will send the likes of Messi dizzy ,at once juggling time zones , job ,children, wife and goal differences.

The world cup has been a mesmerizing spectacle, just not because of the exalted quality of soccer that will be exhibited, but this is the paragonal pinnacle of the word’s most popular game. Coaches will reverse tactics, chew fingernails and exhale smoke from quite a few orifices, most notably their ears .They will pray to their Gods for the absence of injury, wonder if the only way to stop Messi, Rooney or Robben is to hire a hitman. Moreover, this is a chance for the always grief stricken and delusional Africa to shine on the global stage. Officials will blithely go on about world peace stating football must do what politicians have failed to do. But if soccer’s role must not be overestimated, neither should it be undervalued. In the Ivory Coast, a country torn to shreds by the atrocities of racial and ethnic discrimination, the team has become an unifying symbol and even if differences are temporarily mowed down, football has played its part.

Soccer appeals to all; a game elemental yet complicated, seducing both novice and expert. The game has a distinctive aura of rhythm, flair and music attached to it….attacks gradually elegantly building up and swirling into a crescendo. While Messi is the singular proof of football’s beauty as a sport , its players like Rooney who make you stand and applaud for their indomitable spirit and unflinching desire.

In the World Cup, every nation silhouettes its dreams on the canvas of global expectations. We have waited and waited, watched as teams chopped and changed, regurgitated old rivalries, argued Maradona and Pele, wondered if Africa will reach the finals and even had a bet if there will be a Spain-Brazil final.

And now, its time to stop the talking. Lets play.

Aamsutra.....

Recollect staggering along the undulating village roads with your pals and finding yourselves jobless .The first thing in the mind would be rush to the nearest mango tree and hurl a few pebbles at the irresistible looking fruits . One or two would certainly yield to our efforts and fall down(lets discount Newton and gravity for sometime ,please).And then the glory of savoring the fruit was no less than accomplishing any herculean real life act.

If you have had no such experience, I’m afraid but you might not have appreciated the blissful act mango eating really is. Although products like mazaa ,fruity and flavoured icecreams have made the Maharaja of Indian fruits, the aam literally commonplace ,but they have truly undermined the delightful act mango eating should be .While it comes naturally to children and even monkeys for that matter, for the greater part of the evolved Indian community this delectable act has been reduced to a mere inanity. Although the ladies of the British Raj were loathe to consume the fruits in the privacy of their bathroom, mangoes and privacy seldom go together .The fun is paramount when a group of friends partake this feast. Ask the village-wale bhaiyyas and they will tell you that using knives upon the mango or trying to suppress slurping or any other ‘refined gestures’ are bad manners. Talk of any sort of moderation and you kill the pure joy of mango eating.

While eating,any attempt to prevent one’s clothes from tasting the nectary pulp is a strict no-no. Yes, yes , ”daag ache hain” .This holds true for mango eating than any other activity. And last but not the least, the most important commandment of mango morality says that all mangoes, procured by whatever means, are kosher .Therefore when someone offers the fruit ,it is sacrilegious to ask its source. Unfortunately the world is teeming with too many street smart people. To them ,there is only one reply. ” Janaab, aam khaiye, ped mat giniye ”