Thinking of this and that, one strayed into an unknown territory and before you know what is what, you are staring at a signboard which tells you have hit the 'Critic Street'.
Flesh creeps as one relates the story.
Before one could separate one’s knotted eyebrows, someone rammed into the midriff and said 'Sorry'.
Looking up, one had this guy who looked perfect from all angles, except his right hand, which lacked the index finger.
For some, maybe five is one too many and you cannot hold it against him. Boris Yeltsin had three on his left hand, Jerry Garcia had four-and-half on his right. Hrithik Roshan provides the contrasting splurge with his six on the right.
So one asked if he would mind telling the story of his missing finger.
"I'm a Harbhajan critic and had just pointed out his poor performance," he said.
He had just finished when one actually heard Harbhajan screaming from behind the clouds:
"I will cut off those fingers!"
Now oracles can be very disturbing. It sort of unnerves you, somehow affecting the coordination among faculties and limbs.
Naturally it was some sort of comfort finding the next guy fully endowed with no part of his well-rounded body gone AWOL.
But before one could engage him in a discussion, he suddenly started his impersonation of a petulant dog, letting out a series of high decibel barks.
"I'm a Sehwag critic," he said. Off went an oracle:
"Jab haathi chalta hai toh bahut saare Janwar bhaungkte hai. the elephant keeps walking ignoring them. That is exactly how I like to deal with my critics."
Meeting the next bird sort of calmed one's frazzled nerves. He had his fingers intact and even better, he did not bark. Only thing that annoyed me is his habit of abruptly suspending discussion, stooping to pick a pebble and throw it.
At one stage, one had to ask him if he would mind saying why he keeps doing that.
"I'm a Tendulkar critic," he said.
And soon a sing-song voice screamed from the sky:
"...people sometimes throw stones and you convert them into milestones."
I tore myself away and kept going till I saw someone, squatting on the ground and leafing through reams of pages of diagrams and speedgun reports.
"Sorry, don't have time for pleasantries. I'm an Irfan Pathan critic, busy figuring out whether he was an express bowler ever."
Oracle: "Critics should understand I was never an express bowler."
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