When numbers come to haunt a nation

An excerpt from the poem ‘Some Like Poetry’ by Wislawa Szymborska reads: “History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had never existed: An imaginary embryo, an empty cradle, An ABC never read…” he Polish poet’s verses are flummoxing but true. The nuptial knot of man and numbers was tied under coercion and man — with his inability to decimate tears and laughter to decimals — has turned the relationship toward constant disharmony. In life, while numbers might forget a serial killing, stating the murderer was also killed; for human beings, the quantifying of emotions...

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Turnbuckle: It took a Patil to pet the Aussies

Sandeep Patil hit back with vengeance It was the beginning of 1981. India had lost the first Test of their series against Australia by an innings and 4 runs. Greg Chappell, in his very first outing against India had scored a monumental 204. The visitors were bowled out for identical scores of 201 in both innings, their 11 batsmen batting twice failed to eclipse that one individual score. Yet it wasn’t this shameful in those days. No one took us seriously nor did we take ourselves; a draw was synonymous to a victory and a loss (not an innings defeat) felt almost like a draw. In a batting line-up which trembled like a pack of cards, only...

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Drought in the land of Baggy Green: Fall of the Aussie Empire

Clarke and Crisis he Frank Worrel trophy, 1995 is considered by many as the turning point of modern cricket. The series which marks the shift of power from West Indies to Australia, was controversial for many reasons and at the centre of the controversies was Steve Waugh, who was to later pivot his nation to cricket’s pinnacle. Mark Taylor’s Australia won the series 2-1, beating West Indies at home after 22 years. Waugh gathered 429 runs at 107.5 a match, also collected a few bruises and went to sleep with his team jersey, socks and cap on, after the final match. It wasn’t just a victory of one nation over another. In many ways that...

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Sehwag and the Circle of Seasons

It was one of those occasions when deserted by your own vernacular you seek consolation in else's vocabulary and when even that is found to be depleted, you are left haywire–fixated on fixing a proper adjective to your newfound emotion. That emotion which allures both but falls neither on the lap of joy or sorrow. Like it occurs to me quite often nowadays, I was dumbfounded and then appalled at my loss of words in describing Virender Sehwag's double hundred. As I missed out on the live telecast of the match, (for reasons best known to the people in my office, the television was tuned to Aaj Tak) I had to rely on ESPN Cricinfo for score updates. "Sehwag...

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