"Indian" Premier League?

As I proceed to eat my lunch on a typical calm-before-the-storm Sunday afternoon, a spam on the IP tells me that IPL is in the news again. Having gotten used to it by now, I fail to catch the details, but later realize that I should have.

A nice hot and steaming lunch awaits me at the mess(Yes, the lunch can be good if you're in time). Filling my plate, I take a seat near the TV, hoping to catch some news on the world around me. Maybe its just not my day.

The first thing I see on the screen is the blaring headline of "IPL to be held outside India". I mentally shut my eyes and ears and hope that it will soon disappear. Then the presenter blares on top of his voice in a tone that would have been uncalled for even if some 'friendly' neighbouring country dropped a bomb on our capital. I look up dreading that I would see a horrible sight of yet another killing and massacre. Thankfully, that didnt happen. What I see instead is Vijay Mallya kissing one of the Ambani wives on the cheek and SRK, Preity and a few others walking into a nice conference room. The blaring headline hadn't gone away. It now read, "IPL had to be taken outside because of the Govt's attitude".

After showing me a motley of images of Lalit Modi, Mallya, SRK, Preity and a few other very tense fellows, the presenter decides to interview a few people. The first guy is related to cricinfo.com(Yeah, the same site that provides us live scores even in class). After Mr. X has hemmed and hawwed his bit about the abruptness of the decision, our dear news presenter connects to another fellow at breakneck speed and then another and another. I think they once even got Mallya on the phone. And another was asked, " What do you think will be the impact of this decision on the elections?" I wouldn't be surprised if he said, "Looks like we will have to postpone the elections till this matter can be sorted out with the IPL." National Emergency, you know.

Of all that I heard in the half hour that I had my lunch, the only sensible point mentioned was by one of the correspondents. She said that since the IPL's USP was its city loyalty and fan following, it would be difficult to generate that interest if played elsewhere. How would I expect Archana to jump up in joy when Dhoni plays the 'home match' against Rajasthan Royals in Bloemfontein. Or for thousands of fans in Mumbai to crowd the locals at all the wrong times to watch the match at DY Patil stadium. Or for our very own cricketers to carry around their dirty shoes and kit without any fear of being caught at customs. As Tapangshu rightly pointed out, its gonna be an Indian Premier League that didn't happen in India. Simply because ... ... the damned Govt didn't show the right attitude by postponing the elections.

"Phone lagaun kya... ?"

Four and a half inches long, 2 inches wide, 117 grams - the dimensions of my life. I am not talking of any anatomical oddity but something more family-viewing type - my mobile phone. That little box the size of a small packet of chocolate can leave huge fully grown men powerless. It was as if I was decapitated.
This happened on Monday evening. Archana (archie) and Hetal (hate-all) were headed to the city to get archie's phone fixed. I remembered my phone's kinky behaviour off late and joined in. Off to the Nokia Care which gave me the impression of some revered temple - footwear taken off outside and people (hoards of them) patiently waiting for their turn. I don't know what this indicates - that too many people buy Nokias or that too many Nokias end up giving trouble(MBAs cant help evaluating every company's future and market share). Shaking off that valuation for a later stage, I concentrated on figuring out where to get myself a token and getting the 'prasadam' of having someone look at my phone(By this time, I had almost given up hope of having it fixed on that day).
The 5 guys before me from token no.125 to the 130 that I was allotted were fast enough and I was having my phone examined within 25 mins (even you would call that 'fast' if you had seen the situation there). The kindly lady out there remarked that it was a common occurrence with this model and would be resolved if she reinstalled the software. Having no other options, I gave the go ahead.
Fifteen minutes and the phone was as good as new. But the power of a mobile phone is not in its being, but rather in whats inside it. Those simple fifteen minutes had deprived me of about 400 contacts that I had in there and a few hundred messages. In an age where success or failure is simply about having or not having the right contacts, this was disaster. Now I was left with a phone which worked great(or so claimed the lady at the Nokia Care) but couldn't call or message anyone. I was powerless. If I ever got into a fight, I would be holding a blank phone and threatening "Phone lagaun kya?" Not that any fight ever entails any actual calling, but the threat would miss the feeling of credibility. If I needed some work done, I wouldn't be able to call a friend, shove responsibility and then party without a care. I wouldn't be able to read those old lovely messages and miss people (or rather, laugh at them for sending in those tacky jokes). What was I gonna do with that phone which didn't give me the power? It was just another electronic contraption.
For 5 hours that day, till we came back and I started filling in contacts again, my mobile was truly what it was - 117 grams of weight - a 'Thing' - not something which my life depended upon. For those 5 hours, I was free. My life was not in a toy that was designed in Finland, manufactured in China and assembled in Taiwan. It was where the Maker had designed it to be - with me.