India won the semi-finals to the World Cup yesterday. We played against Pakistan. I am not really interested in the sport. But I am interested in victory, especially my country's, and especially victory over slightly rabid teams like Pakistan and Australia.
Interestingly, though, my point of interest was Yuvraj Singh. I have never liked the guy. Since I don't follow cricket, much less Yuvraj Singh's performance on the field, my dislike was based on gut, tabloid information and those advertisements where he mounted so much gel on his head that satellites orbiting the earth would get trapped onto those spikes of follicles.
But in an earlier match against Australia and in yesterday's game, I found Yuvraj to have gotten quieter. There wasn't that annoying noise and static around him - of machismo or obnoxiousness that passes off for 'attitude' nowadays. He had the capable, stoic bearing of a general who would go into battle silently, with fortitude, and win. He shone. I was stumped, by what a man can be capable of when he's secure enough to let his skill do the talking.
The match over, I did consider going out to celebrate. That has been deferred now. One of these days, a friend and I will tour Juhu beach for the choicest falooda. But as the night waned and I had idly flipped through a novel, I did want to sweeten the episode - of having watched a winner accept his mantle graciously.
I got a chewy chocolate-chip and cashew cookie and smeared it with thick, smooth, cool cream. It wasn't the royal, elaborate falooda dessert. But it was nice. It was very nice. Sometimes, in unlikely simplicity, you find strange heroes and lovely desserts.
Interestingly, though, my point of interest was Yuvraj Singh. I have never liked the guy. Since I don't follow cricket, much less Yuvraj Singh's performance on the field, my dislike was based on gut, tabloid information and those advertisements where he mounted so much gel on his head that satellites orbiting the earth would get trapped onto those spikes of follicles.
But in an earlier match against Australia and in yesterday's game, I found Yuvraj to have gotten quieter. There wasn't that annoying noise and static around him - of machismo or obnoxiousness that passes off for 'attitude' nowadays. He had the capable, stoic bearing of a general who would go into battle silently, with fortitude, and win. He shone. I was stumped, by what a man can be capable of when he's secure enough to let his skill do the talking.
The match over, I did consider going out to celebrate. That has been deferred now. One of these days, a friend and I will tour Juhu beach for the choicest falooda. But as the night waned and I had idly flipped through a novel, I did want to sweeten the episode - of having watched a winner accept his mantle graciously.
I got a chewy chocolate-chip and cashew cookie and smeared it with thick, smooth, cool cream. It wasn't the royal, elaborate falooda dessert. But it was nice. It was very nice. Sometimes, in unlikely simplicity, you find strange heroes and lovely desserts.
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MKG