The Day the Earth stood still

At 9:30 pm, the power went off. To escape the mosquitoes, I went up to the terrace. The sky was lit up in dull red, as if the sun had just gone down on that extraordinary day. The fireworks were still lighting up the night sky. I stood and watched them, all the while contemplating the events on that day – the day the earth stood still.

9th March 1996: I still remember that day for what I missed – THAT match at Bangalore, when Ajay Jadeja rained sixes. A day long train journey to Chennai meant that I lost out on the action as the whole of India sat glued to the television. As we alighted at Perambur at 9:30 p.m., the roads were deserted. I attributed it to the unearthly hour at which we had disembarked. I was unaware of the drama that was unfolding in Bangalore. No sooner had the match ended than the city burst into life, with crackers exploding all over the sky.

On the 1st of March 2003, we had witnessed crazy fans on a rampage on MG Road, after Sachin Tendulkar took apart Shoaib Akhtar and Co at Centurion. Hence this time I knew what to expect. For those of my age, Sharjah remained a painful memory from the school days. Year after year, we would see India outplay all other teams to set up the final clash with Pakistan, only to surrender meekly on a Friday afternoon. Year after year, as that Friday dawned, we knew what the result would be even before the first ball was bowled. But this was not any other final – this was the World Cup and defeat was perhaps unpardonable for the die-hard cricket fan.

The most popular e-mail of today was that stupid “excuse to your PM” forward – the one with that the cat having a gun pointed at its chin, and the text “I want to watch the T20 Final. Please let me go home” - which I received at least 7 or 8 times. Early morning at 8 o’clock the office was not abuzz with excitement. Most people still thought the match would start at 9:30. As the day progressed, realization slowly dawned that the game was scheduled at 5:30 in the evening, which meant that most of employees would miss the whole game if they relied on the company shuttle. Volvo bus timings were suddenly in vogue. The trickle started sometime after lunch. A few early birds were already packing up for the day – perhaps showing sublime faith in the famed Bangalore traffic. By four o’clock, the trickle had turned into a steady stream. Enterprising souls who did not know how to spell c-r-i-c-k-e-t were also performing disappearing acts in the name of the game. Our floor, which houses 350-odd people, was half empty even before the magic hour of 5:00 p.m.

At 5:30 p.m., a long queue of vehicles was visible outside the office – an indication of how desperate people were to get home before the action began. I was stuck here in office for good, but thanks to an enterprising friend, I was able to watch the live match video on the net (beggars can’t be choosers). At 6:00 p.m., the lights on the floor were being switched off. This was a time when, on any normal day, you would find at least 100 people in office. But today, there were hardly 20 people around. The earth had indeed stood still before a game between two nations.

The SAPIENT cafeteria, which houses a television, was four floors up. But at the fall of each Pakistani wicket, I could hear the huge cheers of the crowd assembled there to watch the match. At 8:45 PM, the last nail was hammered into the coffin, and a huge roar erupted from somewhere – indications that the festivities would soon start. I packed up my belongings and headed home – unfortunately, along with everyone else who decided to stay back and watch the match at their workplace. It did not entirely come as a surprise that three out of the six preset FM channels in my car were playing the “Chak de India” song. Crackers were bursting in full throttle everywhere. Today, India will not sleep.

In 1983, cricket was not the religion it is now. Neither did we have a television, nor did I know what cricket was. It took this moment 24 years to arrive. Tomorrow the country would be draped in blue. Perhaps it would take another lifetime to witness another World Cup victory. But until then, when they meet each other on the streets, people would question: “Where were you on the 24th of September 2007 - The Day the Earth Stood Still?”

Chasing Squirrels

Life is like an action movie. Everybody keeps chasing one thing or the other throughout their lives.

Some chase their dreams,
Some chase wealth.
Some chase glory,
While others chase skirts...

On September 1st, I spent the day chasing squirels and butterflies in Lal Bagh, Bangalore. The photographs I took were not so great, but was worth for the sheer effort.