By Shashank Saurav:
The other day I had the once in a lifetime chance of witnessing a CWG event. It was the Women’s Singles Final featuring the zealous yet unreliable Sania Mirza against a less fancied (both looks and game wise) opponent. Seriously if charm and beauty could fetch a gold medal India would have added one more to its kitty. Even the crowd support and refereeing blunders (as in the case of Vijender Singh) couldn’t decide the fate of this match. What eventually proved to be the decider was the presence of moths.
Oh yes these are the same butterfly like creatures which look like bats (urghh!) from certain angles. The ones gracing the stadium with their presence were pretty gigantic (in the insect world) and could have covered an entire tennis ball with their wings. They are however worse than bats because of their eerie and bizarre behavior. These are known to be the creatures of the night that prefer staying close to a light source that is warm. But today they seemed to be swooping down like a horde of barbarians on to the tennis court. Probably the heat emanated by Sania Mirza’s mini skirt was luring them in or maybe the sweat drooling from the bodies of the spectators was the bonus attraction (apparently the moths can feed on that). Whatever be the reason, most spectators started waving and shaking their hands like the players to keep off the moth from sticking to their sweat clad bodies.
Two different struggles seemed to have started now. One going on between the two players and the other between humanity and its adversaries. Because of having individuals like me in its rank, humanity was bound to lose. Forget about lashing out at these creatures, my hands were too frightened to touch them and my eyes were too scared to stare at those ugly, scintillating and murky bodies.
However so far I had managed to hold them at bay through sheer determination (it takes some to wipe your nose and sweat on the same napkin which you are swinging at the moth). But I realized that I wouldn’t be able to thwart them any longer as their numbers were increasing exponentially. So I used my mental prowess to arrive at the decision that the spent ticket money, Sania Mirza’s lusty shots and the ravishing girl sitting next to me weren’t worth suffering a moth’s ire. I glanced around to find the quickest way out.
Suddenly however the sultry maiden seated next to me started screaming. I turned around to see a mammoth moth perched on her neck. At first I was clueless as to my next course of action, but then my genitals reminded me of my manhood. I swung wildly at the moth and managed to force a retreat. To my horror however, it flew back aiming for my face. The next 5 seconds comprised pure and unadulterated terror served like a dish in my face. I could almost feel the endless void in the moth’s eye seeping into my veins (read Goosebumps).
In the next few seconds the moth was out of my face (thanks again to my napkin) and I was out of the stadium. Having moved away from the danger zone, I poured a flood of billingsgate against the CWG, the officials and even the girl I just sacrificed my face for. Forget CWG, I am not coming to watch a live cricket match.
P.S- Sania Mirza too later attributed her silver medal to these horrible winged insects.
The writer is a Correspondent of Youth Ki Awaaz and a student of BITS Pilani – Goa Campus.
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