Old is Gold...

Plain white cloths, a green and spotless terrain, a guy running in towards one end of a hard brown-greenish strip with a red and shining cherry in his hand and another guy on the other end waiting intently with a piece of wood. Apart from the ex-players only an innate lover of the game can relate to the charm and thrill.

After all the hoopla of World Cup and the IPL, Cricket returns to its earliest and the most transcendent form, where there are no limits, no power plays, no inner rings, no free hits or the insane indulgence of Mr. Duckworth and Mr. Lewis, instead, whats on offer is just pure, traditional, unadulterated Cricket. 5 days of mouthwatering scrimmage where the sides don't only have each other to fight against, but also the varying conditions over the 5-day span.

The ball may swing the other way a couple of sessions later, or may not, a green top may turn into a batting paradise and furthermore may even start allying the ball turners. A few hours rain and overcast conditions have the ability to come up with mysterious and mischievous conditions altogether. The wicket gets slower and lower as the games graduates from the 1st day to 5th day.

Its a matter of which side adapts to the changes better and displays competitive dexterity. A slight hint of languor, and you are vanquished.

Patience, stamina, skill, temperament, technique and most importantly the mental strength, every facet of a player is put through the Rockwell test. And the surviving people are hampions in their own right.

Let me cite a few examples.

A guy, leading his team, into the last innings of his largely illustrious career, negates the then most vicious combination of spinners almost throughout the day on a 5th day track, and scores a gritty half century while at it, to secure a draw, thus saving his team the embarrassment, that they had kept themselves eluded from for the last 18 yrs or so. At the end of it all, he was carried around on shoulders by his fellow teammates along the boundary lines and was cheered upon by the full capacity crowd present there. Can there be a better way to draw the checkered flag on one's two decade long career?

Another guy on the brink of his and the whole nation's first triple century, steps out to once the best spinner in the world, on a dusty wicket and pummels him over long on for maximum and achieving the feat.

And another guy, with a broken jaw, wraps it with a bandage, comes onto the field and successfully plots the fall of the world's greatest southpaw ever.

These are some of examples of the intrepidity, confidence and perseverance shown by a few of the countless practitioners of this form of the game. It not only brings out the inexplicable and hidden-in-the-darkest-corner qualities of a player but also of a human being.

True, the shorter formats have been the revenue generator for the game, especially the shortest one, they can never match up to the fetish and thrill Test Cricket is capable to generate. Once the deception of the soporific outlook is overcome, and the format is appropriately delved into, the next 5 days may even provide you with the adrenaline rush that you have been longing for to shed a few more pounds.

As I said, only an innate lover can comprehend, this post is dedicated to all the past and present champions, Sachin Tendulkar, the champion of champions and all the true worshipers of the game. :)

Go GOA...!!!....Trip 1 (part - 2): The Curlies

The vehicles we rented were ready the next morning we woke up. A Maruti Jeep and an Avenger for me as I had to ride a bike on the streets of Goa. Anyways, the jeep didn't quite work out that well, so we settled on a swift and off we were for our first ride of Goa.

First stoppage, The Baga Beach.

Found it extremely crowded. But anyways, a beach, beer and exotic seafood, who the hell cares about the crowd. Spent some time there. Explored the beach (and the crowd as well for some very interesting people). Went for para gliding. The panoramic view shot up the beach's beauty by several notches. The waves, gently caressing the shores and frolicking violently against that short range of hills made quite a sight for us. Anyways, having done all these, we had a small meal and rode off to Anjuna.

It was a little secluded and a little less crowded. Mr. Avik got to display his foot skills with the ball with a few outlanders as the rest of us dove into the sea. Finally, as Avik ran out of his breath and we, the Baga meal inside us, we settled down in a shack for a full course of meal. The delicious "Red Snapper" was served, all roasted and enveloped in Goan spices. With the sun preparing for its night long dip in the sea, we sank into our chairs and had the fish preparation leisurely, as if to cherish every moment available. Finally it was dark, and we came back to our rooms. We were done for the day, but the night held for us a pretty different kind of fun altogether. The main reason for us to board into that Resort was that we were told it had some tie-ups with the most famous night club in Goa "The Mambos" and that they could arrange for our stag entries. So, accordingly, a day before, we had instructed the Reception for the same in the night. As we came back from Anjuna with the thoughts of gyrating on the dance floor of The Mambos, we were left to our utter dismay when it was told that they couldn't get us our entries for the night. A mixed feeling of anger, sadness and frustration ran through our minds. Shell shocked, we contemplated going back to the Anjuna Beach and have some more of that snapper stuff. Then one of the stewards came up and told us about a beach party that is organised once in every week and how fun it could be.

"The Curlies". We thought, why not, "Mambos nahi to Curlies hi sahi".

Surprisingly, it was somewhere near Anjuna. So we drove through the dark and confusing roads of the city. A billboard pointed us the direction to the Curlies. We reached a place where the cars were lined up long, the bikes were stacked in such a way that even an ant would have to struggle to cross through. We had a hard time finding a parking place but somehow we managed (owing to the incredible driving skills of Avik, and some good direction by the rest of us).

A dark and muddy pathway lay ahead of us as we wondered how good can this beach party be and how many people can possibly even think of venturing into such a route. Anyways, as we were already there, we had to explore it. We took out our cellphones and flashed light on the road and carefully stepped on one stone from other as we made our way ahead. A distant sound of music and beats made us feel what a lost sailor would feel on seeing an albatross flying.

The music grew louder on our ears as we drew closer. A few people, completely intoxicated, and shouting, yeah literally shouting some Linkin Park numbers crossed us in our way and we finally got the idea of what the night had in store for us.

We reached the spot at last. The atmosphere was electrifying! A crowded dance floor on one side with a medley of groovy numbers being played by the DJ and an open bar on the other, with a convivial crowd sitting in front of it sipping into their drinks. Not to forget the sea dancing to the tunes in the background. We knew we were where we exactly wanted to be.

Tequila shots is what we went for first. Gulped down a few before setting foot into the dance floor. The shots aided us loosen our hinges as we took part in the wildness. GONDAR, was an instant hit! People gathered around to see him dance and even tried to emulate his steps. Gondar obliged and taught a few of his moves as more people gathered around complimenting him. After our first session on the floor, we settled on a table to catch some breath and hukka and beer :). Gondar joined us a little while after, as his disciples weren't letting him leave so soon. Must mention here that, yes, everyone loved him there except a dog. Such a pain was inflicted on it by Gondar, that it left the scene immediately, barking curses on its way.

Anyways, we continued our alternate sessions on the dance floor and on the table untill the party was declared over at around 2 am. The whole crowd was left disappointed. We started shouting "once more...once more". I even went up to the bar to ask if it was really over, but sadly, it really was. We were prepared for an all night stay, but had to cut it short. People started to leave one after another but we stayed, still hoping, untill the area was almost vacant. So we made our way back to our car through that treacherous pathway.

Though the fun was cut short a little, we still had a gala of a time there. Rode our way back to the resort, again through those confusing and dark roads of the city and collapsed into our beds completely exhausted.

Thus ends the tale of the "The Curlies". Had a really great time at a great place with some great people. Well the story is still not over yet. Part 3 will be coming up about "The Mambos Fiasco".:D

Go GOA...!!!....Trip 1 (part - 1): The Royal Beach Resort...

IT-512, this was the flight that flew us to our dream destination on that much awaited day, the 5th of November, 2010.

About two months back, in an inebriated state of mind, it was decided to have a trip to Goa, and instantly, without wasting a moment, the tickets were booked and trip was finalized without much thought being put into it. Well, we had two month's time to plan and organize every day, every moment of the trip, so it turned to be a bold yet a very safe decision. And in due course of time, we allured two more guys, Mr. Moidul and Mr. Koushik, aka or "bka" (better known as) "GONDAR", to embark upon the trip with us.

So the D-Day arrived, we boarded the flight and set our first step into the journey. The flight duration was a little long, especially because of the half an hour halt at the Mumbai Airport, but still, it was pleasing enough. The excitement of what the next few days had in store for us, overshadowed everything else.

The weather was mild, and a cool breeze welcomed us to the city.

We booked a cab and drove off to Calangute, a small territory in the northern part of Goa, and very close to Baga, the most happening place of Goa.

Checked out a few hotels before settling in "The Royal Beach Resort" as our abode for the week.

A beautiful 3-star hotel it was, on the brink of the Calangute beach with serene environment all around. We checked into 2 double bedrooms, got freshed, slipped into our casuals and off we were for our first evening in Goa.

Thought of exploring the Calangute beach itself, as it was nearby and it wasn't economical to rent a vehicle for just a few hours.

As we walked to the beach, the invigorating breeze blew stronger and stronger. And finally, The Arabian Sea announced itself with a deafening roar and shooed away the jet lag by its refreshing view and feel. A beautiful scene it was. The Sun, on its last stretch of the day, was peeping through the scattered clouds in the sky creating a kaleidoscope, which, when combined with the vast and boundless sea presented us an aesthetic start to the trip. Without wasting anymore time, we grabbed four pints of Tuborg and went for a tranquilizing stroll along the shore, feeling the calm water slipping the sands away from under our feet. We walked as long as we could emptying at least a dozen pints on our way. Halted at a few shacks, had some delicious Goan sea food preparations while a guy drew temporary tattoos on me and Avik. Enjoying the cool sea breeze with a Budweiser in one hand and a "Hukka" pipe on the other, we could spend the entire night like that.

Anyway, it was time. We came back to the resort, got changed and went for a dip in the pool. The 24-hours open bar service meant we had the perfect drink to go with while we swam and waded into the pool. A couple of hours in the pool and it was already past midnight. Though Goa never sleeps, we thought of giving it some rest from our side for the first night, preparing it for the sleepless nights ahead.

We went back to our rooms, slipped into the cosy beds, surfed a few channels before going into a peaceful slumber.

This is how the first day ended for us in Goa, though nothing extraordinary happened, it gave us a trailer-view of the things to come in the next few days and left us super-excited.

Though it was a short tour of just 5 days, this little space is still not enough to narrate the whole trip. Part-2 will be coming up shortly...:)

A.I....

Another week passes by...another saturday comes...and we get to spend another evening at A.I....i.e. Asansol International....

There's nothing extraordinary about it. Its been a kind of a routine for all four/five of us for the last one year or so, except for a few weeks when we get to spend the evening with some of the other maniacs like us.

Every Saturday, we come back to our rooms by 8, call our dinners off at the guest house, listen to some high-voltage funky songs at maximum volume while freshening up, watch a little TV, surf through a few regular websites and last but not the least, wait for at least 30 minutes for Mr. Avik Roy as he pours down water, bottles after bottles and burns down at least a couple of cigarettes hoping for the uneventful to happen. Goes for his usual routine in the loo and more often than not, comes out saying,"Aaj hoyeni."

Anyhow, by 930, we grab hold of the bikes and go off to AI. Fifteen minutes ride through those disgustingly congested roads of Asansol and finally we reach our destination. The watchman shoots a salute and opens the doors for us and the very next moment we find ourselves ordering our usual brand of whiskey with the usual snacks to go with them. Spend a couple of hours there, have our usual dinner in the end, pay the amount, tip the waiter and the watchman and ride back home at full throttle.

All sounds pretty normal and ordinary. Well, thankfully, its not. Not for us.

These couple of hours spent at AI, hold a special place in our week's itinery. Prepares us for the next week's grind.

I guess, every working professional can empathize with me when I say that the hope to have a rollicking weekend is what keeps us going while we work our asses off for the six days of a week. The anxiety leading up to it is something unexplainable.

Anyway, as our bikes stall at the threshold of AI, the familiar watchman's face lightens up as he throws a salute, it carries with it his innate hospitality which really warms us up. So regular we've been in this place that all the waiters and even the ever smiling in-charge go out of their way to accommodate us in our favorite table.

And the session starts with a peg of Blender's Pride for each one of us. Our usual snacks are then served to our table, the delectable "Bangla bhaja prawn" (a specialty of AI), "dry chilli chicken" and "crispy chilli baby corn." Then starts our endless discussions and silly arguments over even sillier subjects as we gulp down our usual quota of alcohol (Me and Avik, we settle for three, Mr. Pal, not willing to lag behind, drags himself to the third and Mr. Hudait ends up gulping down a staggering 5-6 installments!), enough to unshackle our minds yet be in our senses. Sometimes, if we are lucky enough, we are graced by the presence of Mr. Agarwal, who has his own brand of drink (sprite or 7 up or mountain dew, subject to availability) and arguments become even more intense and fierce. Be it something related to our personal lives or some general subject doing rounds of the globe, sports, movies, business, stock market, profit, loss or even the guy sitting on the next table, nothing escapes the ambit of our discussions. It does get quite personal at times, but, and I cherish the fact, among us, we are all comfortable sharing and discussing any level of personal stuffs. Sympathizing, enjoying and even laughing our way out of problems.

The point is, this evening provides us a sense of relaxation after a week's turmoil, especially the next day being an off day (for some of us), we let our minds go free(and wild, at times) and forget about the outside world for a couple of hours. The very thought of the next day being a Sunday, is very liberating.

A week's pessimism turns into optimism in just a matter of 2-3 hours. Energizes us for the next week ahead.

So, we finish our session with our trademark dinner (mixed hakka chowmin and garlic fish, after a lot of experimentations over the weeks, we settled on this combo as being the best of the lot), pay the bills, pay the tips, a different watchman shoots us a goodbye salute and we ride back home through the pleasant breeze on the empty roads of Asansol.

This is the tale of our Saturday night, this is the tale of the celebration of our friendship, this is the tale of a gloomy movie with a happy ending.

No matter what I do, wherever I be in the future, these days spent with these incredible guys at otherwise just a decent place, will always serve as one of the most cherished memories for the whole of my life.

No its not AI, its the company that makes it what it is to us.

CHEERS to you, people..!! CHEERS to our friendship..and ..uhh..well...subsequently..CHEERS to Asansol International...!!!:)

Here I start....BLOGGING...

So, here I am, writing my first blog and I have no idea what m I gonna write.

It has been a kind of a fascination for me to write a blog, have wondered many a times whether or not do I have it in me to write something which can be appreciated. This is when I was told that blog is something you write for yourself, its whether you are able to appreciate yourself that matters and nothing else. People have been in the habit of writing in a diary since ages, they never meant to do it for others to appreciate, in fact on the contrary, people have been very private with their diaries and frowned if someone else even as much as looked at it. And blogging is meant to serve the same purpose, whether or not you wanna share it with people is completely at your own discretion. The main purpose, as I mentioned, is how does one appear to him/herself. And as it develops into a habit, even the blogger ends up surprised with some of his blogs. They say, people get to know a lot more about themselves than they ever knew or cared to know. Now this was something that startled me. How better am I supposed to know myself? The only one who knows me better than anyone else is me. That is why, I realized, (lets go back a little) we write it for ourselves not for others.

But, a little thought, a little doubt still remained.

Then, I went through some of the blogs of some of my friends. "MAN", I thought, "these boys can WRITE!" Especially the latest one which my very dear friend Tippu has written (Appy fizz time :) from www.itallstartsinthemind.blogspot.com). Found it exceptional and extremely inspirational. Inspirational because, well, am thinking of doing the same thing what he did an year ago. Its not easy, but he was bold enough to take the step, worked hard, and is reaping benefits for it now. Cheers to you dude.

Anyways, the point is, it actually showed me, how well every little thing can be documented, and later on(i.e. a few years down the line), when you look back at these things, they'll give immense pleasure and a sense of nostalgia that otherwise you may never experience to that degree.

That's what made me think. I thought and I thought and I thought.

"Hell yeahh...!!! lets give it a shot."

And yes, one thing I was told, not to use the "chat language" when writing for yourself. So, was very careful throughout the post.

So, here I am, writing my first blog, and though I had no idea about it, its worth starting without an idea.