Entry for July 02, 2007 Do you remember the Good Old Days??
Do you remember the Good Old Days??
It rained yesterday. This sounds like a pretty simple thing. A few years ago this was a pretty simple thing,just like it sounded. Oh no,but not these days. These days, the a small drizzle seems like the a prelude to the big downpour. A big downpour during the G O D would have only meant that umbrellas were useless.
But since the last three years, monsoons have wrecked Mumbai, better still, washed away the wreckage that was Mumbai.
,
Back when i was carefree and immersed in a world of innocent joy, laughter, sports and video games , rains meant the change from cricket to football.
Football was a crazy game. One ball, a mud field, two goal posts and bunch of kids who if they stood still would very much be mistaken for clay statues. Each player was unique. None of us were pro material,except for perhaps maybe Kushal.
Still Teams were made; matched and balanced. One talent for another. My passes for Viral and Kushal 's combination. Jim's defense for Dhaval's aggressiveness. Rohan's tackling for Aniket's finishing. If we had played any school football team, i m sure we would have been eaten alive.But we didn't care.On our field, we were the best.
And then there was the Chillar Patti. The younger kids, who like the initial wave of fighters in medieval wars,werent really expected to destroy the enemy,just slow them down, and the more you have in your team , the better. They were fast, agile and 'weak'. The older sensible kids wouldn't really put in a full blown kick with a few of them hanging close to their legs. No not because they would be get hurt, but cause their parents would then come charging to poor guy's house. Enough reason to get oneself banned from football in the colony.
Though it was a known fact that Kushal would use these kids as target practice if he couldn't get any of us to play with.
This was the hierarchy.The older kids- us and the chillar patti. A few more years back , i was a part of the chillar patti.But I'll reserve stories of that era for a later time.
These years seem distinctly etched in my mind. but a few images stand out .
Aniket's bleeding mouth being the first one. A second earlier i had just watched one of the most powerful shots from Babu heading for Aniket. Next thing i recollect is Aniket is in the air, matrix style and the ball's just bounced off his face.He falls beyond the goal post on to the hard road. With all teeth intact ,he was more than happy.Bleeding gums aren't a permanent thing.
Dhaval, probably the most aggressive player of the lot, lying in the mud pool . It was raining heavily.i couldn't see the tips of my fingers. the ball was floating over the ankle deep water that had accumulated over our small field. The hedge that was also the fence of my neighbor's house had just been blown down by the ferocious winds.
i cant remember the score,but the ball had just been scooped towards the goal(kicking didnt make much sense when the ball was floating on the water), Dhaval who was the goal keeper was trying to get his hands on the ball. There was a mad rush towards him. No one could see the ball. Muddy water splashing all around due to us blindly kicking ,in the hope that one kick would land on the ball and a goal would be scored.
Dhaval screams out. Hardly any one notices it. Ears been blocked by water too or maybe cause Dhaval was known to fake it. A minute of frenzy ensues. The ball finally crosses the line and Dhaval is lying in the mud pool clutching his fractured arm with the other.
These days, Its raining.But the the ground is empty. The sight brings to my mind a lonely child calling out to his friends to come and play with him.But no ones there.The ground was never empty before my time. My father played on it with his friends.Babu , Poly , Gegoy, they played on it after him.After that Babu, Swapnil, Santosh and others before we took over from them. Its painful to see theres no one after us.
It rained yesterday. This sounds like a pretty simple thing. A few years ago this was a pretty simple thing,just like it sounded. Oh no,but not these days. These days, the a small drizzle seems like the a prelude to the big downpour. A big downpour during the G O D would have only meant that umbrellas were useless.
But since the last three years, monsoons have wrecked Mumbai, better still, washed away the wreckage that was Mumbai.
,
Back when i was carefree and immersed in a world of innocent joy, laughter, sports and video games , rains meant the change from cricket to football.
Football was a crazy game. One ball, a mud field, two goal posts and bunch of kids who if they stood still would very much be mistaken for clay statues. Each player was unique. None of us were pro material,except for perhaps maybe Kushal.
Still Teams were made; matched and balanced. One talent for another. My passes for Viral and Kushal 's combination. Jim's defense for Dhaval's aggressiveness. Rohan's tackling for Aniket's finishing. If we had played any school football team, i m sure we would have been eaten alive.But we didn't care.On our field, we were the best.
And then there was the Chillar Patti. The younger kids, who like the initial wave of fighters in medieval wars,werent really expected to destroy the enemy,just slow them down, and the more you have in your team , the better. They were fast, agile and 'weak'. The older sensible kids wouldn't really put in a full blown kick with a few of them hanging close to their legs. No not because they would be get hurt, but cause their parents would then come charging to poor guy's house. Enough reason to get oneself banned from football in the colony.
Though it was a known fact that Kushal would use these kids as target practice if he couldn't get any of us to play with.
This was the hierarchy.The older kids- us and the chillar patti. A few more years back , i was a part of the chillar patti.But I'll reserve stories of that era for a later time.
These years seem distinctly etched in my mind. but a few images stand out .
Aniket's bleeding mouth being the first one. A second earlier i had just watched one of the most powerful shots from Babu heading for Aniket. Next thing i recollect is Aniket is in the air, matrix style and the ball's just bounced off his face.He falls beyond the goal post on to the hard road. With all teeth intact ,he was more than happy.Bleeding gums aren't a permanent thing.
Dhaval, probably the most aggressive player of the lot, lying in the mud pool . It was raining heavily.i couldn't see the tips of my fingers. the ball was floating over the ankle deep water that had accumulated over our small field. The hedge that was also the fence of my neighbor's house had just been blown down by the ferocious winds.
i cant remember the score,but the ball had just been scooped towards the goal(kicking didnt make much sense when the ball was floating on the water), Dhaval who was the goal keeper was trying to get his hands on the ball. There was a mad rush towards him. No one could see the ball. Muddy water splashing all around due to us blindly kicking ,in the hope that one kick would land on the ball and a goal would be scored.
Dhaval screams out. Hardly any one notices it. Ears been blocked by water too or maybe cause Dhaval was known to fake it. A minute of frenzy ensues. The ball finally crosses the line and Dhaval is lying in the mud pool clutching his fractured arm with the other.
These days, Its raining.But the the ground is empty. The sight brings to my mind a lonely child calling out to his friends to come and play with him.But no ones there.The ground was never empty before my time. My father played on it with his friends.Babu , Poly , Gegoy, they played on it after him.After that Babu, Swapnil, Santosh and others before we took over from them. Its painful to see theres no one after us.
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11:03 PM
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