The Last Airbender

How can you smash back to back sixes of the first 3 deliveries of an ODI? Or score 280+ runs in the first day of a Test match? Have a strike rate in excess of 80 in Test Cricket? Get to a 300 with a six? Or get there twice and then come agonizingly close to a record breaking third, only to be dismissed caught and bowled by a delivery that you might as well have negotiated with your eyes closed!

And yet that's Virender Sehwag for you- the only cricketer who could remove all the bravado about the game and reduce it to its bare essentials- see the ball, hit the ball. That was as easy at it could get and perhaps all that was really needed.

Watching him take guard for India, alongside Sachin in the 2003 World Cup is not just some of my earliest recollections, but one of my most loved sights in the gentleman's game. For me that was- as someone has said in a different context- like having 'a surgeon at one end and a butcher at the other'. Watching the entire team crumble around him as he worked his way to 85 odd runs in the final against Australia was heart rending. Nearly everything else about his career though has been nothing short of delight.

As a much feared player who demanded singular strategies from opposition, he introduced a distinctively entertaining brand of batsmanship. With him at the crease, you always knew something was bound to happen and this very excitement associated with his game constituted the heart of sporting entertainment. Experts would throw terms like 'hand-eye coordination' to paraphrase his unique abilities. I always believed it had got to do a lot more with the way he approached life in general. As a typical Jat, born and brought up in the outskirts of Delhi, blatant straight-forwardness was his way of life. As someone who always went for the runs without ever worrying about form or conditions or opposition, one could always sense that in his batting. This inherent regret-free-no-holds-barred attitude was as much of his strength as- perhaps- his weakness.

At a time when much unchecked westernisation of societies has complicated relationships, it shouldn't be surprising that we could learn much about life and simplicity from Virender Sehwag's approach to the game of cricket. His devil-may-care attitude on the field, his blatant disregard for the conventional, his near indiffernce to landmarks, his the-ball-is-turning-and-its-too-long-to-get-old-so-let-me-just-send-it-out-of-the-park approach (FYI it did happen- in international cricket!) and above all this near non-human manner to let go of all of that at the fall of a hat are all attributes we can do well to bring into our lives.

Much has been said and much will be as he announces his retirement, in his own seemingly nonchalant manner. As unforgiving as the game is, very few are fortunate enough to say goodbye at their best on the field, fewer still bid adieu amidst all the fanfare that we saw being accorded to the very greatest of the game. Something makes me feel Sehwag was never the person who would have cared much about all of that, for theatrics and drama were never his strong suit. He wasn't a Sachin who was born to play cricket, or blessed with the unflinching commitment of a Dravid, or the leadership and flair of a Ganguly, or the much reserved masterclass that was Laxman. He was Sehwag- distinctive in his own right and yet among the very best of Indian cricket.

Hope he has all the joy and excitement in his life that he gave to all his viewers.

PS- Beta beta hota hai, baap baap hota hai. Par ye beta bhi baap se kuch kam nahi tha!

ख़याल - IV

ले चले हम उनको खुदा के दर पे,
सोचा खालिक से उनको रूबरू करते.
वर्ना इतना ही यकीन होता इबादत पे,
तो बाखुदा मुहब्बत नहीं शिकायत करते.

 
जाने की ज़िद कर यूँ गए वो,

चाह के भी करना इंकार नहीं आया.

हैरत हुई बेरुखी पे उनकी,

एक पल भी जाने क्यों ऐतराज़ नहीं आया.

शिरकत की महफ़िलों में हमने,

बाँटने ये दर्द कोई हमराज़ नहीं आया.

डुबो दिया हर ग़म हर जाम में लेकिन,

अंजाम-ए-मोहब्बत फिर भी कुछ रास नहीं आया.

हसीनो को रुखसत करती रहे नज़रें,

गुस्ताख़ दिल को फिर मगर प्यार नहीं आया.

जहाँ क जान-ए-जहां देखे, हमे-

एक तस्वीर भुला दे वो दीदार नहीं आया. 

ग़ालिब बने शायर, आशिक फरहान हुए,

हाल-ए-दिल जो केह दे वो फनकार नहीं आया.

हटा देता इस दर्द की रेहमत,

ग़मों का बेवक्त कोई कर्ज़दार नहीं आया.

सुनते हैं तनहा हैं वो भी, शायद-

हमसे बढ़ कर उनका कोई हकदार नहीं आया.

हर अर्ज़-ए-दर्द पर 'वाह!' उठती रही,

लबों पे उनके मगर इकरार नहीं आया.

एक 'हाँ!' की गुज़ारिश में ज़िन्दगी गुज़ार दी,

और वो बोले हमें इज़हार नहीं आया.

गुज़ार दी ना जाने घड़ियाँ कितनी,

अब तक करना इंतज़ार नहीं आया.

फ़कीर थे उनके, फिर काफ़िर हो गए,

पर इस जूनून पे उनको ऐतबार नहीं आया.

किसी क लिए जन्नत मुक़र्रर हो गई,

और मेरी तकदीर में इक मज़ार नहीं आया...

The Grapes are Sweet

Nothing reminds us more of the fragility of human condition than the pain of a loss- the instant realization of one’s limitations and the irrepressible feeling of loss of a sense of control that is so endearing to us. It carries the immensity to shatter personas, murder faith, destroy will, smother hope and wreck beliefs- variables that often require ages to replenish, at times even forever. Denial is the first response. There is something else though- in some sense the polar opposite of regret- that is almost as intimately stitched to our passive aggressive alter egos. 

Some of us sometime are no better than the famished fox that wanted the grapes but simply couldn’t have them. Interestingly, when we don’t or can’t get what we want, we often sought to pacify ourselves by diminishing the value of the lost opportunity. It seems so overtly childish on face value that one might be duped into passing it off as a false hypothesis. However, circumstances have recently made be suppose otherwise. 

Life leaves us wanting on several occasions and even from a pure statistical point of view, one cannot always get all that he strives for. But this simple rationalization is too hard to accept for many, more so for a mind ravaged with emotional turmoil. Instead, we often deceive ourselves by blissfully dismissing it under the deluding comfort of retrospection. We pride ourselves in having escaped something as if it was too unworthy for us in the first place! 

Life is a constantly evolving chain of causality. Each moment comes to us with several choices- a choice to reflect, react or reject. Yet, regret, redemption and repentance are the most prolific ties that we maintain with our past, ties that seek to paralyze those of us who choose wrongly. Time is merely a constant illusion of change. Our actions this moment are all that matter. We can choose to chase anything under the sun or simply just let all be.

Either way, the grapes are sweet. Always have been, will always be.

ख़याल - III

चलो आज फिर अजनबी हो जाते हैं

हालातों की तंग वो गलियाँ

जज़्बातों की सब मनमर्ज़ियाँ

हसरतों के गुमशुदा काफिले 

खामोश अर्जियों के फ़िज़ूल वो सिलसिले 

किसी मोड़ पे इन्हे यूँ ही भूल आते हैं

चलो आज फिर अजनबी हो जाते हैं

यादों का लिहाज़ जो मजबूरन थामे है

बेबस कलम संग गुज़री जो शामें हैं

तजुर्बों का बोझ जो अब कुछ भारी है

मासूमियत वो जो वक़्त से हारी हैं

ज़िन्दगी से इनका सौदा कर लाते हैं

आज हम फिर अजनबी हो जाते हैं

हर ज़िक्र पे तेरी बेफिक्र नादानियाँ 

मौसम सी ज़ाहिर मेरी सारी हैरानियाँ

बेइल्म, बेलिहाज़ तेरे बेशुमार वादे

बाअदब, बेहिसाब मेरे बेबाक इरादे

वक़्त से फिर वही लम्हे समेट लाते हैं

और बस यूँ ही अजनबी हो जाते हैं

जहां पीछे नहीं बुलाये गुज़रा हुआ कल

और साँसें बिखेर जाये आने वाला पल

सोचे बिन कह पाएं दिल की सीधी बातें 

बिन पूछे हो जाएं कभी यूँ ही मुलाकातें

फिर वही दिन वही शाम ढूंढ लाते हैं

चलो आज हम फिर अजनबी हो जाते हैं

PS (8th Jan 2016): The title may be an unconscious recollection of a Mahendra Kapoor song written by Sahir Ludhianvi.
Link to the song- Chalo Ek Baar Phir Se Ajnabi Ban Jaye Hum Dono

Lyrics- Chalo Ek Baar Phir Se Ajnabi Ban Jaye Hum Dono