From the inside looking out

I saw a woman holding a kid on her hip, and walking barefoot on the dusty roads along the street. A few paces ahead of her was a boy, skinny with ribs showing, who couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen years of age. His well-worn shorts were the shade of an old brown carpet, rapidly losing its brownness.  He was busy propelling an old bicycle tyre along the road using a stick. He showed great control in keeping the tyre without falling on either side. Must have probably been doing it for sometime. Wary of the voice that bellowed his name out, he constantly looked back to make sure he was within earshot of his mother.

After a few minutes, the mother, with her child now wailing loudly, entered my neighbor's compound. Slowly, she found her way to the door. Rung the the doorbell and waited. The wailing grew louder. The little boy showed serious disinterest. The tyre now hung loosely around his right shoulder, after having served its purpose for now. He didn't seem to like what his mother was doing. Slowly, he started tugging her hand. Ignoring him, she rung the doorbell once more. This time, there was someone peering out at them through the windows. And something seemed to have been said. I couldn't make out what was said from where I was standing. Whatever was said, it didn't go down well with the boy. The stick and the tyre was abandoned. He took the child from his mother's arms, relieving her off the physical burden, and lead her out of the compound. He was clearly in command now.

***

The next voice I heard was of my mother's. I went upstairs to help my father arrange the table for Iftar. An assortment of dishes and drinks filled the table : dates, soup, samosas, vadas, Rooh Afza etc. I sat there staring at the items on the table, with the image of the mother and her son repeatedly playing itself out in my mind. I desperately wanted a distraction, preferably, in the form my doorbell ringing. . .

***

3.19 AM. Slowly, one by one, the lights of my neighbors' houses are coming into action, signalling the time for Sehur. I woke mother and father up. We will soon have a light meal and sleep. Life goes on as usual. Just no doorbells, though. . .

Aurora Theatre Shooting: Time for the Second Amendment to become void?

James Holmes, a former neuroscience Phd student, opened fired in a movie theatre in Aurora, Colarado. 12 people were killed; 59 wounded. Yet another massacre that shocked and stunned the world. Only the venue changed. What was supposed to have been a joyous outing to watch The Dark Knight Rises premiere, instead turned out be a nightmare for some; something worse for others: death. They were only going to watch a movie. . .

So, once again, in the aftermath of yet another shooting incident, the question of America's gun laws have been put to the fore. Is the rights of an individual to carry arms (clearly consecrated in the Second Amendment of the US constitution), coming to bite them hard? The answer, in the wake of increased gun massacres, seems to be an inevitable yes. In most states, it is quite easy to procure a gun. Even a machine gun can be bought with ease. The quality of information on background checks is JUST not sufficient. 

Owning a gun, as it is believed by many locals, gives you a level of security from criminals etc., fair enough. But what is the price we pay to have this freedom? How many more gun-crazy madmen do we need to witness taking innocent lives before it hits us?  As a Virginia Tech student, I am appalled by the lack of action taken to enforce stricter gun laws in the US. Every day wasted, is another open invitation for disaster. Gun enthusiasts need to open their eyes; in their vehement opposition to revising the country's gun laws, they are indirectly playing a part in the frequent shootings that go down. Bottomline: Gun laws in the US is something that must be dealt with harshly. Otherwise, the country risks finding itself in a very dangerous (in every sense of the word) position in the near future, if not already.


Meanwhile, the NRA (National Rifle Association) continue to remain silent since the shooting took place. . .

Benevolence

A star too many,
neither you nor I could see.
Perhaps for us, perhaps not.

Try to remember the smell,
the color, the sound.
Could you tell me where it came from?
After all, we were only asleep.

Undress the thoughts that
weigh on your mind, and tell me what
it's like to forget.

Imperious Federer equals Sampras' seven Wimbledon titles

       "I'm getting closer," Murray joked before choking with tears in the post-match presentation ceremony. A rabid Centre Court crowd - and thousands outside on the Henman Hill - were treated to a sumptuous performance by Roger Federer who overcame a spirited Andy Murray, 4-6, 7-5, 6-3, 6-4, to win Wimbledon for a record-equalling 7th time. It was a great sporting moment as he overcame his naysayers and convinced even his loudest doubters that he was by no means a finished article by regaining the Number 1 rank aged thirty. 

The final was no means a foregone conclusion either, far from it. In Andy Murray, Roger found a fierce opponent who exploited his early nerves by taking the game to him. Soon enough, he found a break opportunity which he capitalized on, only to hand it back. Andy found another opportunity, and this time managed to seal the first set. 6-4. Following the game on Twitter, the immediate reaction by Federer fans to him losing the first set was here we go again...All the ghosts of recent final and semi-final losses seemed to come flooding back in. Not again, Roger, was the collective sigh of frustration. 

The unforced errors were creeping in, 24-8 it stood at one stage. The second set followed a slightly different pattern with neither players' serve being broken until the final game of the set. Federer held 6-5. Murray was hitting it well. Roger, tentative and slightly unassure. Then out of the blue, Roger upped his game a notch. Attacked Murray's serve and found himself with a couple of very crucial break points. 40-15. After a lengthy rally, he managed to come up with a stupendous backhand drop volley that screamed of finesse. One set all. 

The rains came down. It poured. The Wimbledon roof was called into action once again. What a fine investment that turned out to be since its inception back in 2009. Despite the suddenness of Roger's second set victory, there was a feeling that neither player had a clear advantage at that stage. The third set kicked off  , and continued on serve until the sixth game - an 18 minute affair involving 10 deuces and 6 break points. This, after Andy had led 40-0 in that game. The break point was finally accepted and Federer served out the set. The momentum shift was clear. Andy's body language told the story. But he wouldn't give up. There was a final was to be won. 

With Federer raising his game by the minute, the strokes were crisp, catching the edge of lines, Federer had found his pizzazz, panache, whatever you want to call it. The errors decreased. The winners came at alarming consistency for Murray. Federer broke Murray in the 5th game of the set. The Centre Court crowd was muted. It was all but over. 

"He's done so well over the years, he's been so consistent. He'll at least win one grand slam, so this is what I hope for Andy. I've obviously gone through some struggles over the last few years myself, so it's amazing. It equals me with Pete Sampras who's my hero. And as for the world No1 ranking, it's all come together. It's a magical moment for me.", Roger said after the game. 

Two and half years of pain and hurt gives a totally different meaning to this victory. And I think, personally, this ranks above all of his earlier achievements. Playing in an era of voracious Tennis players and managing to win at the grandest stage by beating 2 of the top 4 players takes some doing. The wait is over. There is a sense of relief accompanied with a renewed hunger for more. For now, let us enjoy this win. 

Thank you Roger!

La Furia Roja seal their place in the pantheon of greats

"Those people who think we are playing boring football, in my opinion they don't understand the game." said

Cesc Fabregas, after playing a vital role in Spain's crushing defeat of Italy in the Euro 2012 final. The Spanish midfielder who played the role of a false nine, was pivotal in Spain's success, not only yesterday, but throughout the tournament. 

Spain quickly settled into their usual rhythm of El Rondo, dictating the pace of the game early on. Soon enough, after a series of scintillating passes, the first chance came in the form of a Xavi Herdandez shot - just over the bar. After a period of further sustained possession, the breakthrough arrived. Iniesta, the craftsman, fed Fabregas's llegada, a perfectly timed run, who fought off Chiellini to deliver a crisp cross for Silva to hit home. 

Italy responded well after going down with Antonio Cassano's dual attempts thwarted by Iker Casillas. But just before half-time, in another brilliant move down the left, Jordi Alba sped away to collect a sumptuous ball from Xavi to bury it past Buffon with a conventional number 9's calmness. At 2-0, Italy were looking down the barrel. 

Prandelli's half-time substitution, Antonio di Natalie for Cassano, almost paid dividends as he came close to scoring twice. One of which evoked a fine save from Casillas. Italy's third and final substitution, Montolivo off for Motta, turned out to be a slice of misfortune for them. Motta, just four minutes into the game, picked up a hamstring injury which meant Italy had to contain Spain with ten men for over thirty minutes, a task that's difficult even with eleven men on. As the game meandered towards the inevitable, Torres was brought on and soon scored Spain's third - another wonderful assist from Xavi - thus becoming the only player to score in two European Championship finals. Mata came on for the first time in this tournament and collected Spain's final goal, assisted by Chelsea teammate Torres, to seal a thumping win. 

As Iker collected his team's third consecutive major title (with West Germany coming closest to achieving that feat in 1976), one can't help but wonder how allegations such as 'boring' were levied against this Spanish  side. A deluded view held by certain sections of the media who couldn't even dream of their side playing such a brand of football. 

"Spanish football is living great years. We are very complete as a football side and we have to be proud of that." says Iniesta. Twenty years down the line, we will look back at this Spanish era, and we will consider ourselves to be lucky enough to have witnessed this side take the field. Tiki-taka lives on.