"Why aren't the gates open yet? it's 6:45, at 7 the concert's gonna begin right?" i screamed at the security guard on the gate.
"We have not been asked to open them!" he replied to my utter angst.
Siri Fort auditorium at khel gaon marg was hosting a special concert that evening,that of Pt. Ajay chakravarty and Ustaad Rashid khan together in a mouthwatery jugalbandi. It was something that all hindustani classical music lovers would have dreamt of. Two genius vocalists, each of them masters of their art, flag bearers of their respective gharanas! i had purchased the tickets almost a month back for this, and i had spent sleepless nights for the last 4-5 nights anticipating the magic that was about to happen on the D-day. The huge queue outside the gate was frightening, literally. We were waiting outside now nearly for an hour, and hence my tempers went soaring high when just 15 minutes away from the concert we were not allowed in. But on a very contradictory note, i was also pretty pleased with the turn out. i mean, this was no Metallica, Hindustani classical vocalists are not common man's popular artists! Though i must include, the people standing there in the queue were the high society, rich kurta and silk saree wearing, C R park inhabitant bengalis, who have not heard of Raj kumar Hirani but know what brand of smoking pipe Satyajit Ray used!
We finally entered exactly at 7. Needless to say, the concert began 15 minutes late than the scheduled time. As soon as i entered, i came back to my jovial mood which had disappeared for an hour when we were standing in the queue. I was with my singer friend Sankalp, fondly known as Tiwari(his surname) amidst his friends. after we sat, and before the concert began, in those five minutes, i narrated my previous experiences of listening to Ustaad Rashid Khan and Pt. Ajoy Chakravarty individually. As i narrated, suddenly to both of our horror, there came in our row a small kid with his dad, and then sat next to us. This for both of us was going to be a painful evening, because of our past experiences of kids in such concerts or art films, where they cry loudly and spoil the entire ambiance and mood. We started praying to the almighty as soon as they sat next to us, that 'Oh God, please let this baby be the surprise performer of the night, who sleeps throughout silently!' a lot of people from the accompanying rows also looked at the father-son, with a lot of apprehension and fright. But at least for then, the kid seemed peaceful.
Pandit ji and Khan sahab began the concert, and to my utter delight, with Raag Hamsadhwani. It is one of my all time favorite raagas! The evening slowly but surely was turning into this magical time i was having with Tiwari, as Pandit ji and Khan sahab, after a beautiful Alaap and Vilambit laya composition, began the famous madhya laya composition in Hamsadhwani, that being "Laagi lagan pati sakhi sang". The sweetness of the composition has always moved me beyond limits, and Pt. Ajoy chakravarty with Ustaad Rashid khan singing the piece was literally orgasmic! And then between all the 'kya baats' and 'waahs' from the audience, i saw tiwari looking almost at me. i use the word almost, since he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at The kid who sat next to me with his father. I too turned my head towards them now, and understood the reason for tiwari's sudden break of concentration. The kid had woken up. Let me exaggerate a little, me and tiwari started sweating with panic. Now was approaching the moment of horror which we dreaded all evening. Others too in our row and behind us noticed our panic, and participated in panicking!
And then suddenly the kid looked at all of this with big eyes, made a disgusting face and opened his mouth to cry out load. All this happened in ultra slow motion, and just when we were about to lose our entire composition's juice with a whaling cry from the kid, he cried in the same scale of the composition, no kidding, trust me, he cried in C sharp scale. Everybody in the audience in those 2-3 rows who were so disturbed the entire evening with the thought of the kid crying, shouted together, "KYA BAAT"!!
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Benefit Of Doubt
This was my last match. After a span of 12 years now, i had decided to take retirement from International umpiring. My last one day international match hence happened to be, on my choice, between India and West Indies. At 67, i had seen enough cricket till now to be not nervous about the fixture, but the situation changed my behavior.I was not in my groove. I was restless and anxious. My career as an umpire was a hugely respected one and all players were aware of my decision before the match started. They had planned a farewell party for me after the match, but that was not even on my mind right then. I was extremely keen on going through the match smoothly without a hurdle and without making any major mistakes.
I must agree and confess, that i have made mistakes in my life, i mean as an umpire. Some of them were debacles. Initially, when i was 55 and new, i could not gather whether a ball was pitching on or outside the leg stump. Numerous times on television replays i would be embarrassed for something i had confidently adjudged earlier. I was also not great as a leg umpire when it came to run outs, but thankfully the third umpire would come into play then and i would be saved from further embarrassment. But as years went by, just like a musician improves on his speed at which he plays the instrument with rigorous practice, i too improved on my reflex decisions. I was slowly but surely getting more and more accurate at tough calls, in which perhaps i had less than half a second to see the action and take a decision. In the last three years of my career, i was just brilliant, with all my modesty. I trusted my eyes like Bengal trusted Ganguly!
My last match began with India losing the toss and having asked to field first. There was hardly anything for me to do to be honest in the West Indian innings. Only 5 wickets fell in the whole innings, out of which one was a clean bowled and 4 were simple catches in the outfield. The West Indians set a target of 279, for the Indians to chase. I was still not thinking of the farewell party, rather i was so deeply involved in the match that now i was almost more of a biased spectator who wanted India to win. I did not want my country to lose the last match of my career. Wouldn't it be such a fitting end to my journey, if i see my country victorious too on the same night of my retirement?
Indian openers started the chase finely with boundaries at frequent intervals without getting dismissed. Sehwag lost his wicket to an out swinger as he nicked it to the keeper and i raised my index finger towards the sky on the appeal for caught behind. This was infact the first decision of Out i gave in that match. Dravid and Yuvraj fell cheaply after that, leaving the maestro Mr. Tendulkar on crease with the skipper, Dhoni. With Raina and Y Pathan to follow, things were still looking healthy if these two could remain on crease for a while. But Dhoni and Raina departed in quick succession again after a 60 run partnership between Sachin and the skipper. Now Sachin was left alone with Y Pathan new on crease. Sachin was half my age, but where had he taken the game to, really, i mean exhibition stuff! How could i not have been a fan of his, watching him so closely for more than a decade now, just from about 22 yards away. And as thoughts of his winning India the match single handedly flashed across my mind, with less than 10 overs to go, he nicked one to the keeper and it was so loud that no one even appealed and he left the crease on his own and began walking back to the pavillion. But then he stopped, and turned back. He heard something that made him stop. I was screaming on top of my lungs, NO BALL! NO BALL! The West Indian team had gone so crazy after the dismissal that they went berserk with their Caribbean celebrations and could not hear me. After almost a couple of minutes they realized that Sachin was declared not out and the whole team came running towards me like an angry mob looking for its docile prey. I explained them that it was a No ball because the bowler had overstepped.
The television replays are evidence to the fact that i was wrong with my decision.But this time, it was deliberate!
I must agree and confess, that i have made mistakes in my life, i mean as an umpire. Some of them were debacles. Initially, when i was 55 and new, i could not gather whether a ball was pitching on or outside the leg stump. Numerous times on television replays i would be embarrassed for something i had confidently adjudged earlier. I was also not great as a leg umpire when it came to run outs, but thankfully the third umpire would come into play then and i would be saved from further embarrassment. But as years went by, just like a musician improves on his speed at which he plays the instrument with rigorous practice, i too improved on my reflex decisions. I was slowly but surely getting more and more accurate at tough calls, in which perhaps i had less than half a second to see the action and take a decision. In the last three years of my career, i was just brilliant, with all my modesty. I trusted my eyes like Bengal trusted Ganguly!
My last match began with India losing the toss and having asked to field first. There was hardly anything for me to do to be honest in the West Indian innings. Only 5 wickets fell in the whole innings, out of which one was a clean bowled and 4 were simple catches in the outfield. The West Indians set a target of 279, for the Indians to chase. I was still not thinking of the farewell party, rather i was so deeply involved in the match that now i was almost more of a biased spectator who wanted India to win. I did not want my country to lose the last match of my career. Wouldn't it be such a fitting end to my journey, if i see my country victorious too on the same night of my retirement?
Indian openers started the chase finely with boundaries at frequent intervals without getting dismissed. Sehwag lost his wicket to an out swinger as he nicked it to the keeper and i raised my index finger towards the sky on the appeal for caught behind. This was infact the first decision of Out i gave in that match. Dravid and Yuvraj fell cheaply after that, leaving the maestro Mr. Tendulkar on crease with the skipper, Dhoni. With Raina and Y Pathan to follow, things were still looking healthy if these two could remain on crease for a while. But Dhoni and Raina departed in quick succession again after a 60 run partnership between Sachin and the skipper. Now Sachin was left alone with Y Pathan new on crease. Sachin was half my age, but where had he taken the game to, really, i mean exhibition stuff! How could i not have been a fan of his, watching him so closely for more than a decade now, just from about 22 yards away. And as thoughts of his winning India the match single handedly flashed across my mind, with less than 10 overs to go, he nicked one to the keeper and it was so loud that no one even appealed and he left the crease on his own and began walking back to the pavillion. But then he stopped, and turned back. He heard something that made him stop. I was screaming on top of my lungs, NO BALL! NO BALL! The West Indian team had gone so crazy after the dismissal that they went berserk with their Caribbean celebrations and could not hear me. After almost a couple of minutes they realized that Sachin was declared not out and the whole team came running towards me like an angry mob looking for its docile prey. I explained them that it was a No ball because the bowler had overstepped.
The television replays are evidence to the fact that i was wrong with my decision.But this time, it was deliberate!
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