I remember how three years ago during the first year of my college, all us guys living outside the hostel gathered together one evening, rented a television itself, the “experts” jugadoed the cable connection from a neighbouring building – all just to watch the ICC 20Twenty World Cup final between India and Pakistan (by the way, Oh! What a match it was!!). Amidst the frenzy and the cries of abey-oye and o-no there were finer nuances of the occasion that was so heartwarming.

A room full of nearly thirty guys. All from different families, different cultures, different backgrounds, different regions and different ideologies sitting (or standing and jumping in some cases!) together to support the ‘Men-in-Blue’. And yet, (the accused-cynic that I am) I managed to spot a yet finer division in this unity. Every time our bowler gave a cheap run, somebody would threaten the guy’s mom or suggest to have him killed. And the Smart-Alecs would take a more technical stance.. criticising his run-up or perhaps his bowling action (criticise his bowling action!!

If you looked at the guy’s ponch you would wonder if he’d eaten his family.. and of all the people he was criticising an athelete!!). In a few seconds, the bolwer had become the Most-wanted guy of the country.

Yet if the same bowler in the very same over, managed to uproot the stump, all hell would break lose! He would soon become the only hope of the team.. the shining light of the future and the most beloved son of the soil! A guy even jumped to the screen to kiss him! (Ahem!)

Jokes apart, the sad thing to notice was that even in our unison, we are but a confused lot. A herd. A group of blind followers. A lot of BPL’s (Bin-Pendi-k-Lote’s)! Its a typical Indian thing. I do not wish to again coax the practice. I only want to point out the wrong habit, hoping we might at least think about it.