ekam sat viprā bahudhā vadanti

Thursday, July 20, 2006

nothing else matters

(click on the image to enlarge)
atleast nothing else did, for that one month. And how fast days fly past good times!

"If this can be termed the century of the common man, then soccer, of all sports, is surely his game.... In a world haunted by the hydrogen and napalm bomb, the football field is a place where sanity and hope are still left unmolested." ~Stanley Rous, 1952

World map has changed significantly sice then, lifestyles have changed, yet football remains the most celebrated activity on this planet! You learn it chasing a ball that barely weighs a pound, and now you see half the world battle it out to show who does it best. There's spirit in the field, desperation running, bodies jostle and fall, and comes bliss when the best prove it, romancing the ball making others look tap dancing around them!

And there it goes, leaving behind memories, Germans firing cannon balls past some great walls, the most skilled Argentinians failing football unable to prove their mettle, Zidane and Henry stripping Brazilians of their loose defence, stark naked; and Italians rewriting the art of war!

But just as life seemed to be returning to callous monotony, witnessing hundreds die in bomb blasts, never ending crisis in the middle east, thousands losing lives on fight for resources in africa, comes my next reason to rejoice; returning home, back to Manipal, and I start counting days. Nothing else matters...

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Can I take your rubbish?

The title of this post attracted you to read this, didn't it? ;) There are so many who have loads of rubbish to write, tell, and are looking for someone who'll listen to it.
And if you already knew me personally, it also would've surprised you, how could I, who always just gives rubbish, now talks about taking some? Strange yet an interesting thought flashed through my mind too, for fraction of a second, when I heard the air hostess requesting in her gentle sweet voice. But those were exactly her words. Though it did not take more than another fraction of a moment, for me to handover my empty Coke container and the plastic cup to her, it left me spend rest of my journey musing the choice of words French people make when they speak English.

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