Last night, after Kolkata Knight Riders were tottering with four wickets down and fans had shifted to other channels, yet another Bengali with an unpronounceable first name was sighted. Wriddhiman Saha - a diminutive boy with a giant name (but certainly simpler than Mpumelelo Mbangwa) - scored a brilliant 59 off 32 balls in an innings which was quite explosive even by IPL's slam-bang standards. At one point, he and David Hussey looked very close to pulling it off - but that was not to be.
Today, rediff.com reported his heroics by calling him Shah instead of Saha.
Can't blame them as this is probably the first time they heard the surname. Just as we heard the surname Dhoni for the first time, some 4 years ago.
That good, huh?
While on the subject of IPL, I was rather happy at the prospect of watching the tournament because I felt I would be able to follow several teams without heartbreak as all my favourites were spread across teams.
Mcgrath was in Delhi (where I stay), Dhoni was captaining Chennai (where I started my career), Rohit Sharma and Laxman were representing Hyderabad (another favourite city of mine), Sachin was in Mumbai (where I have stayed as well) and when all else fails, Preity Zinta's smiles would have lit up my life. Or so I thought.
Inexplicably (or otherwise), the sadness I feel every time the Knight Riders slide to a loss is rather distressing. Every single chromosome of mine seems to be programmed to support Mohammed Hafeez's half-volleys and Ajit Agarkar's full-tosses.
Despite having a plethora of choices, I remain shackled to the City.
My father, who has even less of a choice than I do, was rather concerned the other day when he asked, "What team will Joy support when he grows up?"
I broke the news as gently as I could. My son - who is known as Joey, DJ and Jai in different circles - will probably choose between Kings XI Punjab and Delhi Daredevils. He has no obligation towards King Khan's Knight Riders!
Whether that is fortunately or unfortunate, I have no clue of...
Those who lived in Calcutta in the mid-80s would remember a medium of great entertainment called Bangladesh TV. In the days of rickety aluminum antennae, we occasionally got lucky when we could receive a grainy version of Bangladeshi television. They showed some of the top rated US shows - Dallas, Dynasty, Scooby Doo - and we were very impressed in between episodes of Chiching Phnaak and Ektu Bhebey Dekhun. Those days, there used to be a programme called Knight Rider in which David Hasselhoff was the male lead and was about his adventures with a super-car (that talked, emoted, swam, drove at super-300 kmph speeds and what not).
No reasons or connection with IPL. This blog is famous for its pointless ramblings, I guess.