How Not to Defend Your Home

You own one the largest house in the neighbourhood, with a particularly humongous family. Several years ago, after a violent showdown instigated by a nasty old uncle, your younger sibling decided to strike out on his own. Ever since he moved out, the little prick has been throwing stones at your family, damaging your property and even illegally occupied a part of your house.

You have tried various methods to sort it out. At several times, you have invited him home to resolve your differences. You’ve tried to go into business with him, hoping that mutual profit will help sway him to his senses. You tried appealing to your common religious and cultural roots. 

You’ve looked warily as he cozied up with the massive local bully and began working as his errand boy.

There were times, however, when you lost your cool. On at least four occasions, you got into bloody brawls with the jerk. Didn't end particularly well for either of you, but you felt that you'd shown him his place. You enjoyed some peace while he recovered from his thrashings, only for his mischief to start afresh.

Some years ago, he sent his thugs right inside your living room but you fought them back. 

You thought it was over. It only got worse.

A few of years later, a dozen of his goons walked in through your main door in broad daylight, even as you entertained guests and visitors there. They beat and maimed the guests bloody and made you look like a complete नपुन्सक(impotent / inadequate).

But you tried a provide a measured, civilised response. You wanted to appear to hold the moral high-ground. You started collecting evidence. You even set-up a special holding room for one of the goons who was left behind. You appealed to the neighborhood and the city to back your side of the argument. 

And you waited.

Meanwhile, one of your supposed friends - let's call him Uncle Sam, found out that your little brother was providing sanctuary to it’s mortal enemy! To top it off, since Uncle Sam faced a major tragedy in 2001, your brother has been fleecing billions of Uncle Sam's dollars pretending to "search and destroy" Sam's enemies! 

Uncle Sam knew better than to ask your neighbour for help. He decided to take matters about his security in his own hands. In the stealth of night, Sam entered your neightbour's house, killed his enemy on the spot and took off before your double-crossing neighbour stirred from his sleep.

Even as you secretly envied your foreign friend’s nerve, you decided that being neighbors, you needed a more mature and lasting solution. So you continued to wait for your neighbor to see the light of day. 

When things didn't change, you decided, some initiative was required. Despite having sworn off any discussions following the attack on your house, you offered an olive branch and set-up talks. You tried talks at home, at other people’s homes and even tried to catch a word at various group meetings. 

The six decade-old patterns refused to be broken. Not even a hint at reconciliation was offered. Despite the overwhelming evidence of your neighbor’s illegal behavior, you continued to mollycoddle him towards a solution. 

Stalemate continued. It would help if you saw the irony of this. 

But over the years, you’ve lost the ability to differentiate between being mature and being spineless. You have not learned that an opened palm for friendship when spat upon, must be clenched to make a fist of force. 

Above all, you have not learned that the defense and security of your home is not achieved by platitudes and appealing to noble ideals. 

It is achieved by physically kicking out your errant neighbour from what is rightfully yours; ensuring the consequence for him is at least a bloody nose and broken limb. 

Anything less, is just a meek surrender by a deluded fool. Whether it's your home or your country.

A fan breaks-up with Sachin Tendulkar

Dear Sachin,

It has been a while since we spoke. To be honest, we’ve never spoken… which was working extremely well for us. You kept performing on the field while keeping a (mostly) dignified silence off it and I reveled in your achievements. Until now. You see, over the past few months, things have changed between us. And I wanted to share my thoughts with you instead of letting them fester inside.

A long, long time ago, even before you debuted for India, you had a fan, admirer and defender in me. We played briefly in a Harris Shield match – I was carrying drinks for my school team, while you were smashing them to all corners of the Azad maidan. Ok, so we didn't actually play, but I’ve told too many people that I played against you for me to change my story after all these years! Sorry, I digress.

As you reached for your place among the cricketing gods, slowly but surely, your success began to translate into consistent wins for the Indian cricket team. We'd seen glimpses of your individual wonder – against Pakistan, England and Australia; but the team’s results still lagged often in stark contrast to your performances. By the late 90s however, the tide began to turn. We started winning consistently. First at home and like home conditions of Sharjah, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh. Then overseas. We became contenders, no longer playing to compete – we played to win.

I don’t know if you noticed, but I haven’t specifically mentioned your great innings or the beauty of your technique and stroke play. They have their place too, but it was the victories that we cherished over all else. And through all those victories, you were humility personified. You played for the team. Yes you were always important, but the team was pre-eminent. Team results mattered more than individual records. To top it all, we finally became world champions again in 2011 – things couldn’t get any better that!

And they didn't. They got worse. Much worse. Very quickly.

We were thrashed in England, Australia and narrowly beat the Windies. But all through this, the focus was on just one result – scoring your international century of centuries. After over a year you ended our misery.

Lo and behold – the 100th 100 arrived! The century to beat all centuries was delivered – and it wasn’t even good enough to beat Bangladesh. Within a year, the world champions couldn’t even reach the finals of the Asian championship.

This is where things got out of hand. During losses in England and Australia, we never saw or heard from you. You were like a hermit, cocooned in your thoughts and preparations. With the 100 under your belt however, you finally emerged to address us.

We were out of the tournament and had fallen dramatically in cricketing terms, so I expected you to reassure us - “..worry no more. The decline was temporary, made worse by the distraction of my meaningless milestone. But things are going to be back on track now. The team can get on with its journey. I however, would like to take my leave. It’s taken a year or so more than I wanted, but I hope you allow the indulgence. So long and thanks for the Ferrari!”

Those were the words I thought you wanted to share with us. Alas, you had different thoughts.

“Retirement?!? You’d rather call me selfish! I’m at the peak, why should I quit now? The team needs me. I love playing the game and that’s the most important thing.”

There have been parties, platitudes, awards, felicitations. Any tamasha that could be thought of has been performed. Heck, someone even made you a Member of Parliament.

Here’s a sobering thought which I never thought I’d have to mention to you – Boss, hume ab maaf karo. Please stop acting like the guest who has overstayed their welcome.

What are you playing for? The World Cup – Done (bonus - at home in Mumbai!!!). Test hundreds everywhere – Done. ODI double hundred – Done. Hundred in the 4thinnings guiding Indiato a win – Done. Leaving the game at your peak with an amazing sense of accomplishment – NOT Done.

Going forward, I wish you the very best as you create more meaningless records, give none of your attention to any legislation debated in the national Parliament and ensure your cricketing existence continues to be marginalised.

I am certain, your fans will continue with their blind support for you – except me. I’m sorry, it’s not you… it’s me. When the circus around the sport matters more than the sport itself, I tune out. I am sure we’ll never be friends, but if you want to, my comments section is always open for you.

Yours truly,

HD