I had been an avid Indian cricket fan for 2/3rd of my life like any common Indian……But I DON’T Know when and why my feelings had reversed. I hate cricket… Indian Cricket……It’s like a bipolar syndrome….Quite apparently I had no plans whatsoever to watch the cricket match last night out of 3 reasons. Firstly I had got no interest, secondly had no satellite TV Connection and thirdly No sympathies please….It was not out of penury. I’ve got a TV at home…….But it’s mute since long enough.
Out of the blue I expressed my wish for success of green (Pakistan) over blue (India) on my Facebook status update in the morning. As expected it created a ripple effect of comments and replies….. I knew I was travelling upstream.
By the time the sun had set the stage was set for the match to begin,.A few meters away from my frequented restaurant a large screen was installed on the road side. I got allured after a long time…….probably a longing for the gratification you feel when your predictions come true….My feet moved in tandem with my mind. And I was part of this crowd or Wasn’t I?
It was group of 30-40 to begin with. With every passing moment more and more started clinging together to this honey comb. Akin to the queen of honey bees was sitting on a stool the King of this Honey Comb, the pot bellied shop owner, who had got this screen and other requirements installed at his own expense; with a snobbish pride on his face. The rest were either standing or sitting on the stairs. Among them was standing one honey bee which was from a “different part of the world”. It was me. I know we are all “sex obsessed” BUT just for the sake of literary freedom don’t dwell into the sex of a honey bee. I know it’s a female. I don’t want to search google what the male is called….The men adjacent to me shared their emotions with one another and at times with me. They were chanting, punching in the air, jumping…..cheering the Indian team ball by ball….By the time Pakistan innings had ended there was nothing much to emote for me. So I chose to stay mum.When India came out to bat, I had gone out for dinner. The moment I entered, I was welcomed by the Pak bowler bowling out 2 Indian men on 2 consecutive deliveries……I wanted to shout out loud with fists in the air, TEASE every person in their face, I wanted to chant slogans praising the Pak team…do everything wild……. I used to do in my childhood…Had I done so all those bees would have injected their stings into my bum so I again chose to remain mum.
The game ended with Pakistan being tamed by brilliant batting display by India. I wanted to express my dejection…I wanted to share my disappointment…I wanted to say…..Oh No………I couldn’t because I was a mute spectator……..I was speech impaired……….by choice.
I went back home..Logged on to my Facebook Account…..All I couldn’t do in the real world…I did on the virtual world……
All I want to say is a big thank you to Zuckerberg. Facebook is a gift not only to mute spectators by choice but to the entire community of speech impaired who are mute not by choice. Emoticons are the Braille of Mute spectators…………