Wednesday, June 1, 2011


It was Saturday night and I'd just settled down to watch two matches back-to-back.

I found my best friend G online. I asked him if he was watching the matches. He told me how I could even ask such a question - his TV was ready, and connected to his home theatre, and food and drinks were also ready.
Seeing that we had both made our preparations (mine included blackcurrant ice-cream! ); we started discussing the teams and their chances. G rattled off the players' names one by one; claiming that no team had a chance against a team with such good players. (CSK & FCB were his choices, CSK being my choice as well, and since RM wasn't playing, I wanted to watch LM&DV in action).

Talking of the players, one of the CSK players happens to share his name with someone I know. So, when G emphasized that name, I asked him why he was emphasizing that particular name. I reminded him of the player's namesake. "That fella", said G, disgusted. (G always refers to him as "that fella"). He claimed I was driving him nuts, and said he wanted to jump off a building.

I told him that in that case, he could deliver his home theatre to me and leave his bike here with me and then jump off. He asked me how I could be so heartless as to watch a friend of 14 years die, I told him I didn't want to watch him die, it was the match that I wanted to watch. G is convinced of my utter lack of sympathy for him.

I consoled him saying that far from wanting him dead, I was offering an incentive to live - my cooking. And that made G wonder why I was hatching murder plots!!!

In the end, we both watched both the matches; despite the horrible relay making me want to leave at half-time. (I'm glad I stayed up to watch Messi and Villa in action!)

(And all the while G kept harping on the fact that he was watching the match live on TV, with a good reception).

As of now, G is alive and well. And so am I.

The rest is silence, as they say...

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