7 Indian Neologisms

1. Aaramkhor (n) : Idle loafer.

"!&?@#!#%&! You misfielded again!" Virat Kohli thundered into Rohit Sharma’s eardrum. "We are working our socks off and here you are loafing around! Saale aaramkhor!"

2. Agreeculture (n): Corporate culture where subordinates mindlessly agree to whatever their boss says.

The CEO is an ignorant moron but his subordinates don’t have the guts to tell him that. It’s a company which expects you to agree to whatever the boss says. I can't survive in an agreeculture like that.

3. Andolone (n): Fight a movement alone.

Anna Hazare began his anti-establishment movement alone before the Arvind Kejriwals joined him. Till then it was Andolone.

4. Artifacial (n+adj) : Beauty parlour.

After the IPL spot-fixing scandal ended his cricket career, Sreesanth opened an artifacial shop in Kochi.

5. Solemate (n) : Friends who share footwear.

Few were surprised as Greg Chappell turned up in the press conference in Sourav Ganguly’s Kolhapuri chappals. They are known solemates after all.

6. Detergentleman (n): Male dhobi.

His Bollywood career gone up in smoke, Uday Chopra is trying to eke out a living as a determined detergentleman.

7. Emptea (adj) : State of the tea cup which has just been drained.

India’s most popular TV anchor, a human volcano, is actually a henpecked husband, often seen washing emptea cups at home to please his dominant wife.

10 Things That Have Left Solar System With Voyager I

So Voyager I has left the Solar System. Now what prompted this abrupt exit nobody knows.

Elevation of a younger space probe that hurt the patriarch? Lure of a greener pasture in some other universe? Lack of breathing space in an increasingly crowded space?

We probably would never know. But it's not only the spacecraft which has left.

Below, Doosra lists 10 things that have left Solar System With Voyager I.

1. S Sreesanth's career;

2. L.K. Advani's Prime Ministerial aspirations;

3. Shahid Afridi's birth certificate;

4. Ishant Sharma's skills;

5. Omar Abdullah's baldness;

6. The 'a' from Ajay Devgn's surname;

7. Tusshar Kapoor's tongue, which explains his gibberish in the "Golmaal" series and subsequent trash;

8. Sanity from Rohit Shetty blockbusters;

9. Navjot Sidhu's reticence;

and finally:

10. Arnab Goswami, whose conspicuous absence from Newshour is fuelling speculations that he is actually piloting Voyager I out of the Solar System. "Going by the noise Voyager I is making, that's a distinct possibility which can't be ruled out," a NASA scientist told Doosra strictly on condition of anonymity.

Pix: BBC

Sreesanth Limerick

There was a madcap called Sreesanth
Who courted trouble almost every month
He took money to give runs
And then broke into a dance
Until jail became new home of that Sreesanth.

When Santa met Bhajji!

When two boisterous men, both bearded to the teeth and turbaned to the gills, come together with Christmas in the air, bear hugs and mutual backslapping are expected to be the order of the day.

But at times, even the most perfect of scripts go awry and what follows is something starting with a P and has a demon in it. I think Pandemonium is the word I'm groping for, unless it's one of those chemical elements which sign off with an 'ium'.

So when Santa Clause met Bhajji, one expected them to hit it off like a house on fire. Instead, it turned out to be a harrowing experience for Father Christmas.

Bhajji was in a foul mood. In his elements, if you insist.

In contrast, Santa had enough warmth in his voice to force another Copenhagen as he greeted Bhajji.

"Merry Christmas!"

The bonhomie was somewhat missing on Bhajji's part.

"Oye Papaji, mind your language. Has your Pyo brought the exclusive rights that you go about the town claiming 'Meri Christmas'? If you don't want me to box your ear, tell 'It's Everybody's Christmas'."

Santa shielded his bafflement with a patronizing smile.

"Well, it's everybody’s Christmas of course."

Bhajji sort of relented but clearly wasn't convinced of the stranger's bona fide.

"That's better. By the way, haven't seen you earlier. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Santa Clause."

Bhajji's eyes bulged again.

"Santa what?"

What followed immediately is the experience I have undergone more than once in my childhood.

It's the standard modus operandi of the neighbourhood bullies to grab you by your arm, twist it as if it's a doorknob and pull it up like a lever till it's horizontal to the terra firma – thus pre-empting any resistance – before planting some of the juiciest on your defenceless back.

More than the assault itself, its suddenness had unnerved Santa and emanating from the depth of his facial undergrowth was an assortment of Err, Hey, Oh, Ouch, Stop, What-the-Hell before he finally managed to free himself from the vice-like grip.

Massaging his mangled arm, Santa sounded less genial as he instituted an inquiry.

"What the hell...I mean why did you attack me? You nearly yanked my arm off!"

Panting after his attempt at disarmament of the opponent, Bhajji was clearly baffled by his naivety.

"Why I beat you? Santa CLAUSE! Must be a relative of that *&%$#@ Whereabout Clause. Don't I know you have a bottle in your sack and you have been shadowing me all along to see when I relieve myself?"

Last remnants of geniality gone from his eyes — and honestly one could not blame him – Santa finally exercised some authority.

"Stop it, you moron. I don't know what the hell you are gibbering about. See, there is no bottle in my sack."

Bhajji was clearly shaken. At least stirred, if not shaken altogether.

"You mean you don't even know Whereabout Clause? I'm sorry then. No hard feelings, ok? See I slapped Sreesanth also and he too made peace later. We exchange dance steps now. You know what? Lalit Modi had actually threatened to auction us, not in IPL but among the cannibal tribes in Papua New Guinea, if we did not kiss and make up."

The change in air did little as Santa still eyed Bhajji with no little suspicion. Bhajji, on his part, was at his garrulous best, trying to strike a conversation.

"Sure you aren't Ramesh Powar trying to make a comeback in disguise? (laughs) I'm kidding buddy. So you come from North Pole? What brought you here?"

Santa was under the impression that Bhajji's query was on mode of transport.

"Reindeers."

Bhajji was surprised. He outstretched his arm and then looked at Santa.

"Rain! It's not raining dear. Why should it rain in winter? And I don't see Duckworth or Lewis either. They appear without failing whenever it rains."

A little explanation was the need of the hour but Bhajji retained that baffled look.

"Why reindeer man? Get a life, get a Hummer. I have one. Dhoni has one. If you want I can talk to the distributor for some discount."

Having retained his sang-froid, Santa finally opened his mouth.

"Thanks but no thanks. Sonny, my arm comes in the way of saying it was a pleasure meeting you. Never mind, I have something to give you before I depart."

Santa fished out a rolled strip and handed it over to Bhajji.

"I don't watch cricket but I'm told you've forgotten the basics. So I give you this tape to measure your line and length. You still will be left with another yard or so and for humanity's sake, tape your mouth with that. Bye."

(P.S. Reproducing this 2009 post for those who missed it)

7 ways India can turn the table at Nottingham

1. Turn the batting order upside down. Ishant Sharma should open with Praveen Kumar. Apart from the fact that they can’t do any worse, the mere sight of them walking in to open would give the Andersons and Tremletts a nasty shock. Consider this, even after mowing down India’s top half, England would not rejoice because they haven’t seen the trace of a Tendulkar or Dravid yet!

2. India should avail the existing extradition treaty with England -- or sign one if there is not any -- and force them to immediately send Harbhajan Singh back. They would be reluctant of course but these are the occasions when Manmohan Singh has to assert himself;

3. Sreesanth, Zaheer’s inevitable replacement, should bowl with his left arm to exploit Strauss and Cook’s weakness against left-arm bowlers;

4. Blood Arjun Tendulkar. That’s the only way to field a free-from-pressure Tendulkar. Already a Team India extension, Arjun has not missed many tours, attended more net sessions that Abhinav Mukund and can be India’s secret weapon;

5. Dravid batted and kept wicket at Lord’s with reasonable success. He should be allowed to bowl in Nottingham to complete the gamut in his final UK tour.

6. BCCI should immediately do whatever they do to be enabled to draw players from neighbours Pakistan and Sri Lanka and swiftly introduce a Kolpak-like ruling which allows half the side to be from Australia;

...and if nothing works...

7. Dhoni should stoop, grab it by the leg, lift it and then push with a perfect follow through. Of course there are other schools of thought but this is by far the most popular method of turning the table.

Bhajji on Doosra!

Doosra: So, what happened Bhajji?

Bhajji: Lost a coin, lift your leg moron, maybe you are standing on it.

Doosra: I'm not. Bhajji, I mean what happened that suddenly you started playing like a frontline batsman and struck back-to-back centuries?

Bhajji: Oye, interview started and you didn't tell me you X*&%$#@!...Well, I’m rather sad after those centuries.

Doosra: Sad!

Bhajji: With my talent, I should have scored 13,999 runs by now, just behind Tendulkar. He’s the God you know...Let me tell you, that Batman wasn’t worthy of tying Paaji’s pajama.

Doosra: It’s Bradman.

Bhajji: You kidding! I read in the newspaper – he’s Batman and Robin Singh was his teammate.

Doosra: That’s because you got stuck in the comic strip and did not advance to the sports page. By the way, it’s just Robin and not Robin Singh…

Bhajji: Who cares? And who the hell Batman is compared to Paaji?

Doosra: Bradman...

Bhajji: Why fuss? Have whatever you like! But did he play in IPL? No? You know what James Bond once said? "What he knows of cricket who not IPL knows?"

Doosra: That's CLR James and the actual quote is...anyway, leave it....Against New Zealand you batted so comfortably, the ball must have looked as big as a football?

Bhajji: No fathead, the ball looked like Sreesanth’s cheek and I went slapping (chuckles). But Sree is like a younger bro.

Doosra: We notice you keep it saying these days, ‘Sree like a young bro’. Is it because you don’t have one?

Bhajji: No dumbo, it’s because I think Sree should be as non-existent as my young bro.

Doosra: But your bowling has slipped. Even Ojha is taking more wickets.

Bhajji: You don’t understand, youngsters need encouragement.

Doosra: You mean you deliberately allowed him to hog the limelight?

Bhajji: What else? Besides, now I'm in the team purely as a Bradman.

Doosra : Batman...I mean batsman?

Bhajji: Whatever. Can't keep blabbering with you anymore, I'm a busy man, have to rush. By the way, you sure it's Bradman and not Batman?

Mango after Tendulkar, Coriander after Yuvi?

Who says Tendulkars don’t grow on trees?

Thanks to a Lucknow farmer, Tendulkars will not only grow on trees but can also be sliced, juiced and even pickled without inviting homicide charges!

Spending long hours under a scorching Sun can do strange things to farmers and Doosra here puts together a list of 7 cricketers who run the immediate risk of rendering their names to certain floras à la Tendulkar.

When Santa met Bhajji

When two boisterous men, both bearded to the teeth and turbaned to the gills, come together with Christmas in the air, bear hugs and mutual backslapping are expected to be the order of the day.

But at times, even the most perfect of scripts go awry and what follows is something starting with a P and has a demon in it. I think Pandemonium is the word I'm groping for, unless it's one of those chemical elements which sign off with an 'ium'.

So when Santa Claus met Bhajji, one expected them to hit it off like a house on fire. Instead, it turned out to be a harrowing experience for Father Christmas.

Bhajji was in a foul mood. In his elements, if you insist.

In contrast, Santa had enough warmth in his voice to force another Copenhagen as he greeted Bhajji.

"Merry Christmas!"

The bonhomie was somehow missing on Bhajji's part.

"Oye Papaji, mind your language. Has your Pyo brought the exclusive rights that you go about the town claiming 'Meri Christmas'? If you don't want me to box your ear, tell 'It's Everybody's Christmas'."

Santa shielded his bafflement with a patronizing smile.

"Well, it's everybody’s Christmas of course."

Bhajji sort of relented but clearly wasn't convinced of the stranger's bona fide.

"That's better. By the way, haven't seen you earlier. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Santa Claus."

Bhajji's eyes bulged again.

"Santa what?"

What followed immediately is the experience I have undergone more than once in my childhood.

It's the standard modus operandi of the neighbourhood bullies to grab you by your arm, twist it as if it's a doorknob and pull it up like a lever till it's horizontal to the terra firma – thus preempting any resistance – before planting some of the juiciest on your defenceless back.

More than the assault itself, its suddenness had unnerved Santa and emanating from the depth of his facial undergrowth was an assortment of Err, Hey, Ohh, Ouch, Stop, What-the-Hell before he finally managed to free himself from the vice-like grip.

Massaging his mangled arm, Santa sounded less genial as he instituted an inquiry.

"What the hell...I mean why did you attack me? You nearly yanked my arm!"

Panting after his attempt at disarmament of the opponent, Bhajji was clearly baffled by his naivety.

"Why I beat you? Santa CLAUSE! Must be a relative of that *&%$#@ Whereabout Clause. Don't I know you have a bottle in your sack and you have been shadowing me all along to see when I relieve myself?"

Last remnants of geniality gone from his eyes — and honestly one could not blame him – Santa finally exercised some authority.

"Stop it, you moron. I don't know what the hell you are gibbering about. See, there is no bottle in my sack."

Bhajji was clearly shaken. At least stirred, if not shaken altogether.

"You mean you don't even know Whereabout Clause? I'm sorry then. No hard feelings, ok? See I slapped Sreesanth also and he too made peace later. We exchange dance steps now. You know what? Lalit Modi had actually threatened to auction us, not in IPL but among the cannibal tribes in Papua New Guinea, if we did not kiss and make up."

The change in air did little as Santa still eyed Bhajji with no little suspicion. Bhajji, on his part, was at his garrulous best, trying to strike a conversation.

"Sure you aren't Ramesh Powar trying to make a comeback in disguise? (laughs) I'm kidding buddy. So you come from North Pole? What brought you here?"

Santa was under the impression that Bhajji's query was on mode of transport.

"Reindeers."

Bhajji was surprised. He outstretched his arm and then looked at Santa.

"Rain! It's not raining dear. Why should it rain in winter? And I don't see Duckworth or Lewis either. They appear without failing whenever it rains."

A little explanation was the need of the hour but Bhajji retained that baffled look.

"Why reindeer man? Get a life, get a Hummer. I have one. Dhoni has one. If you want I can talk to the distributor for some discount."

Having retained his sang-froid, Santa finally opened his mouth.

"Thanks but no thanks. Sonny, my arm comes in the way of saying it was a pleasure meeting you. Never mind, I have something to give you before I depart."

Santa fished out a rolled strip and handed it over to Bhajji.

"I don't watch cricket but I'm told you've forgotten the basics. So I give you this tape to measure your line and length. You still will be left with another yard or so and for humanity's sake, tape your mouth with that. Bye."

Kanpur Test Day 4

# Life imitates cricket:

There are things that vary from city to city. And then there are that do not.

Like men of dubious upbringing trying to bring down every wall by sheer urea power. Amazing How the spirit that fell the Berlin Wall is still smouldering in far away India!

Like autowallahs who were uncompromising shearers in previous life.

Or like traffic police warnings.

As you enter Green Park, one such warning screams "Helmet Ki Adat, Pariwar Ki Chahat".

Loosely translated, it basically means every time you kickstart your bike, family members want you to use the helmet. Possibly because your life insurance had lapsed long ago.

An advice of indubitable sagacity indeed.

Had Raman Lamba heeded to that, he would not have popped up in my memory the moment I saw the writing.

# Liar! Liar!
Sreesanth says Harbhajan is like his elder brother. Well, Dipu Santh's is a rather chubby face and barring a thick moustache, is clean shaven. Now that is called stretch of imagination.

# Yours Faithfully:

Outside the stadium, couple of fans tell a local channel that they always knew Sreesanth will stage a comeback.
Once through, one of them hail a riskshaw. The rickshaw-puller wants to know his destination. It still rings in my ear. "Faithfulgunj".

# Marriages, here and there:

News filters in that Gautam Gambhir would skip next Test due to sister's wedding. Press box is abuzz, would Australia allow such a thing? Someone explains "There you can always make it to any of the weddings of your sister." Now that is mean.

Kanpur Test Day 3 : Hatchets buried

Edged. Panaravitana is back. So is Sreesanth. Back with a bang.

19 months of wilderness finally behind him. Teammates mob Sree.

Can't read Harbhajan's face. Let alone his mind. Does he feel awkward? Will the bad blood persist?

I expect perfunctory claps. Well, it's actually a clasp! And doesn't look perfunctory either!

Harbhajan hugs Sree. Last time it was engineered. By Farokh Engineer.

I don't know what lies in their bosoms. In fact they may never become bosom friend. But I love this coming together.

Life is way too precious to do something as silly as nursing grudges. I'm happy Bhajji and Sree have moved on.

Kanpur Test Day 2: God's prodigal son

It was a huge joint venture, if you care to know.

Sources reveal 33 crore Hindu Gods collaborated with Allah Almighty and Jesus Christ to make it happen.

And it required such an unprecedented joining of hands because, along with others, the God of Cricket -- 20 years in circulation -- did not want him in the Team India dressing room.

Sreesanth is a madcap.

He hears strange noise inside his head. He perceives Nel, Hayden and Symonds on the window pane. Harbhajan with an outstretched hand haunts him in his nightmares. And he hallucinates a gorilla making him hug a monkey while the fox claps.

Gods consult and issue him a new lease of life and Sreesanth runs in from media centre end, all verve and vim.

He thinks Paranavitana has nicked it. He appeals. No, he pleads. He then urges. Finally he begs.

But there is no trace of life in the umpire's standing corpse.

Sreesanth stays rooted to the crease.

Sehwag collects his hat and pats him. Sreesanth drags himself to fine leg. He looks upward. Seeking divine intervention again.

The guys upstairs squirm in their abode.

"Now what?"

Sreesanth feels he is drowning. And he seeks a divine straw to clutch at.

How 7 cricketers are preparing for Kanpur Test

1. Rahul Dravid: Plans an interaction with the IIT Kanpur faculty there. Nothing stimulates him on the eve of a Test like a free-wheeling chat on aerodynamics;

2. Amit Mishra: An interaction with ITI Kanpur faculty to explore the prospects of its mobile repairing diploma course;

3. Virender Sehwag: Toying with the idea of visiting any of the tanneries. You can't have a better place to hone your butchering and skinning skill.

4. S Sreesanth: Well, no temple/mosque/church/gurdwara is safe in the town where he lands. Humanity is yet to see a man more convinced that only a divine intervention can win him a place.

5. Harbhajan Singh: Allen Forest Zoo. His sinister motive being to first find a monkey and then call it names, including Symonds.

6. VVS Laxman: A trip to the Luv Kush barrage, purely out of avancular affection;

7. MS Dhoni: Nostalgic 15 minutes at the Kanpur Railway Station, to relive his days as ticket checker in Kharagpur;

(P.S. Doosra is in Kanpur for 2nd Ind-SL Test. Expect lot of actions over the next five days.)

EXCLUSIVE: Bhajji explains white patka!

Dear All,

So here we go again. Talk of the town and it again has nothing to do with my bowling!

Well, I'm told my white patka has been quite a sensation.

So much so that some people have lost their own. Others reported sporadic cases of choking at the breakfast table in front of the television.

Now that surely warrants some explanation. What necessitated this change in colour and the encrypted messages I meant for a few individuals.

For starters, I believe I have been able to prove to my BCCI bosses that I'm doing my utmost to curb my temper and keep my cool.

White reflects sunlight, elementary metaphysics sirs! No? You insist it's physics? Sure it's not physiology either? Well, will take that.

Returning to the rail, I believe with this subtle move, I've silenced my critics, who spread the canard that I lack variety. And if still those offsprings of *&^%$#@! still nitpick about it being just a wardrobe variety, well, my Hummer can take care of them next time they stray onto the road.

Time to spell out other ramification of the white patka that may have eluded your radar.

To Matthew Hayden, my patka virtually screams out 'Mate, about time you issued a rejoinder that I’m not an obnoxious weed but a white tulip'.

It has a message for Sreesanth as well. Well Sree, you can come closer without inviting a palm-shaped tattoo on your cheeky cheeks.

For Symonds, oh dear, all hatchets buried. Let's start life afresh, mate. By the way, how's your mom?

Finally a word for Mr Amitabh Bachchan too.

Now that I've changed colour, don't you think a Big Boss invitation should be on my way?

Regards

Harbhajan Singh.

(P.S. What will be the punch line of a family planning commercial featuring Dhoni and Bhajji? Hum Do Hummer Do, preferably mouthed by Dhoni.)

Pix

Allergy cost Pakistan Champions Trophy!

Harbhajan's is not the only hand that itches, especially when a Sreesanth is in the vicinity.

Last month, hundreds of women in the eastern Indian states had a similar sensation after they developed Mehendi allergy.

Not that allergy is essentially a proletariat phenomenon.

For instance, Kimberly Williams is allergic to cats and dogs. So much so that she sneezes her inside out at the prospect of raining cats and dogs!

Take the case of Bill Clinton. He may not be allergic to plump White House interns but cats give him a wheeze.

Beyonce is reportedly allergic to perfume. If still you don't see reasons to sympathise with her co-performers, X-rays would confirm that God had mistakenly slipped a boulder where He was supposed to put a heart.

Janet Jackson's is a more baffling case. Having twice tied the knots -- quite loose ones you may say since she wriggled out of both -- her self-diagnosis is she is probably allergic to marriage!

And until they reached the Champions Trophy semifinal, you could not put a finger on what Pakistan is allergic to.

As long as pundits ignored them, Younus & Co were pleased as punch and cruised as a launch.

But suddenly they heard an oracle: "From now on, you will be cursed and damned as favourites."

Knees trembled, spine curled, blood curdled...Let's face it, Pakistan is allergic to favourite's tag.

Ind vs Oz...Day 3

1024: Welcome to What Neo Won't Show and Cricinfo Won't Report (WNWSACWR). Wait for me to grab a syrup-spiked coffee before I get going.

1025: Having survived twice, Hussey completed his hat-trick today. But just before he exhausted lifetime of luck in this match, Dhoni finally holds on to one. It would have taken some talent although to drop that. Mowgli (Ishant, for the uninitiated) elated.

1029: Shane Watson just averted being trialled for culpable homicide, while Rudy Koertzen escaped an attack on his life. Zaheer banged it short, Watson went for a pull and Koertzen at square leg feared for his life. Well, there are more civilised ways of denouncing the very concept of umpiring.

1056: Harbhajan swallows Haddin. Last time Mohali saw Bhajji in action was when he planted a slap on the Michael-Jackson-of-Indian-Cricket's cheek. At safe distance, Sreesanth these days is busy exploring alternative career option as a leg-shaker on the telly.

1302: Koertzen does a Statue of Liberty. Only instead of the torch, he brandishes the new ball around. Ishant almost slays Lee with the first ball but Binga still manages to retain that smile. Many asking which toothpaste Lee endorses.

Of Nadal, asteroid and an Indian XI

The other day, Rafael Nadal, that veritable Spanish bull on two legs, had an asteroid named after him. Here goes an Indian XI and things that could have been named after them:

1. Irfan Pathan = Meteor
2. Ajit Agarkar = Comet
3. Virender Sehwag = Aircraft Safety Hazard
4. Sourav Ganguly = Kamikaze Planes/ Nail Clipper
5. Rahul Dravid = Defence Headquarters
6. Sachin Tendulkar = Peaks/National Museum/Departmental Store
7. S Sreesanth= Tinder Box
8. Ashish Nehra = Band Aid
9. Anil Kumble = Diplomatic Mission
10. Harbhajan Singh = Nuclear Reactor/Volcano
11. Zaheer Khan = Nursing Home.

5 wonders that await Asif on his release

As Mohammad Asif packs his bag, hugs his new-found friends at the Dubai detention centre and heads for Pakistan, you cannot really rule out a Rip Van Winkle syndrome.

Cricket is no more the game it was when Asif was nabbed in Dubai and here are the five wonders that are bound to make him as hallucinated as he was at the time of his interception.

1. Kevin Pietersen switching on and off;
2. Brett Lee’s alternate profession as owner-cum-model for downmarket underwear;
3. Collingwood brandishing Trion-Z magic bracelets to counter Vettori’s smart-pant voodoo;
4. Appellate Tribunal decreeing that Shoaib Akhtar would be legally entitled to crack his bat on Asif's thigh in September 2009 and not in a distant 2013;
5. Sreesanth finally settling into a life without Harbhajan Singh and picking up a fight with hotel staff in Bangalore.

Image: AP

IPL, the holy shrine

Rejoice, for cricket has finally chanced upon its version of the Church of the Nativity, Golden Temple, Al-Masjid al-Harām and Tirupati. I can see future, all roads leading to India as devotees from across the globe flocking for that annual pilgrimage that would culminate in the holiest of holy shrines, the Indian Premier League.

Before you brand me insane, consider how many-- and more importantly how -- fringe players got back to their national sides, courtesy IPL. If fulfilling wishes is what draws the devotees in droves, IPL to fringe players is what Bethlehem is to a true blue Christian.

Ask Brad Hodge, Shane Watson, Luke Ronchi and Manpreet Gony and the baptized souls would vouch that without IPL, they had as much chance of getting into national side as China has of conceding Tibet.

Consider Hodge's fortune. Hodgey came, saw and though could not conquer IPL, managed to find his way to the Australian Test squad in the Caribbeans in the most extraordinary of circumstances. He was recalled as cover for the cupid-struck Michael Clarke who refused to board the West Indies-bound flight and stood by the bedside of his fiancée’s ailing father.

The last time Hodgey was seen with a baggy green was when Australia had a different Prime Minister; Nicolas Sarkozy’s wife went by the name Cécilia Ciganer-Albéniz and not Carla Bruni; and Barack Obama was yet to discover his ambition to be the most hated person on earth.

Watson’s case is no less freak either. Of all people, Matthew Hayden, cricket’s own Arnold Schwarzenegger – not the senator but the terminator – fell to a heel injury sustained, where else but in IPL! So Watson is back in Australia’s ODI scheme of things. The cricketing world rubbed eyes in disbelief as the erstwhile doctors’ delight rose to the pink of his health, while an exasperated Hayden was cooling his healing heel!

Ronchi too has reasons to give thumbs-up to IPL. It required nothing less than a divine intervention to clear the passage for a salacious sounding surname and accordingly, Brad Haddin had to break his ring finger and twiddle his thumb in the sideline as Ronchi flew in.

Back home, Manpreet Gony could not believe his slice of luck either. Sreesanth survived a mighty Rs 3 crore slap from a feisty Sikh but was rendered hors de combat with a fishy side strain and Gony was shoehorned into the side for the Bangladesh tri-series!

I owe the bottom line to Paulo Coelho and it is -- if a Test/ODI cap is your dream, come to IPL and the world would conspire to help you achieve it.

Amen.

Indian Premier League: Circa 2011 and beyond

I didn’t see CNN’s ‘Talk Asia’ programme which featured IPL ring master Lalit Modi this weekend. For that matter, I haven’t seen any of the episodes, even if that makes me lesser a human. And to be honest, I don’t see myself seeing any of the ‘Talk Asia’ episodes either, of course unless I figure there.

But as a professional hazard, I read the transcript and found that during the course of answering a series of ego-massaging questions, Modi said he envisages two IPL seasons in the same year from the fourth edition onwards.

When not cricket ball, crystal ball gazing is my favourite pastime and allow me take a sneak peak into the future of IPL:

1. Sreesanth will be slapped twice a year and the PDCB (Prabhu Deva in Cricket Boots, for those who came in late) would maintain that Harbhajan is like his elder brother;

2. The contract for Bhajji, assuming he still finds a taker, would replace the mandatory post-match handshakes with a folded-hand namaskar and any deviation from there would incur immediate termination of the same;

3. Meanwhile, all roads would lead to Mohali as players, arms wide spread, would make a beeline for Kings XI Punjab, obviously drawn by the hugly incentives from the franchise owner;

4. Kolkata Knight Riders coach John Buchanan will take the opportunity to publish sequel of his “If Better Is Possible” in the Australian embassy. Shane Warne will once again buy a copy, tear the pages, make a kite and fly it over Sawai Mansingh Stadium;

5. Modi will depose in the Court of Arbitration for Sport, explaining why cheerleaders’ presence cannot be construed a performance-enhancing substance;

6. Darren Berry will stay put in Jaipur to issue travel advisory that India had become a dangerous place to visit since a kid burst two firecrackers somewhere in Mizoram;

7. Vijay Mallya will ask Mike Gascoyne to tutor Bangalore royal Challengers on how to get fast off the block;

8. Grandpa, I mean Glenn McGrath would still look inconsolable after conceding 11 runs off his four overs;

9. Sachin Tendulkar would insist that even though teammate Arjun Tendulkar outscored him, he still has lot of cricket left in him;

10. Shoaib Akhtar would manoeuvre his way to IPL, pointing out the precedence set by the previous appellate tribunal which had spared him for the previous drug offence which incurred him a previous life ban.

Image: Daily Mirror

Costliest slap in cricket’s history

The slap must be reverberating in Harbhajan Singh’s ears. When he hit Sreesanth beneath his eyes, Harbhajan could hardly imagine that it would go down to history as the costliest slap ever in the history of Indian cricket.

IPL Mint in Suit Lalit Modi spelled out the arithmetic in yesterday’s Press Conference.

He said a player's fee is divided over 14 matches and Harbhajan will be paid for only the first two matches. The volatile offie forfeits his fees from third match onwards, besides the ban for the rest of the IPL.

Bhajji was bought by Mukesh Ambani's Mumbai Indians for a cool Rs 3.4 crore but the Jalandhar spinner would get only Rs 48 lakh.

So that slap that earned him a ban as well, cost Bhajji neat Rs three crore.

Meanwhile, having been to umpteen BCCI Press Conferences, I did not expect it to be a tidy affair yesterday but what I witnessed was mind-boggling.

PR guys said press conference would take place at the 17^th floor of the Maurya Sheraton and that triggered mayhem. Imagine 200-strong crowd, armed with tripods, mikes and paraphernalia, trying to squeeze themselves into two elevators. By the time half of them managed to reach the place, fresh announcement said they don’t have enough space there, so it would take place at porch. That ensued second round of pandemonium. Well, then we were told they have made the arrangements and it would indeed take place at 17^th floor. That triggered a mini-stampede, and TV guys mouthed the most exotic choicest of abuses you can hope to come across before making it to the place just before Modi and Farokh Engineer started the press conference.

Next round of drama took place there that included angry shouts at Modi as well. And all along, Engineer screamed “Please be quiet, show some respect for Mr Modi.”

Well, that was really asking for too much.

Anyway, all this while Modi could have simply booked a hall beforehand and told that the Press Conference would start at so-and-so hour.