Champion’s League Final, 2009 b/w Manchester United FC and Barcelona FC held on the 27th this month
I saw the final between Man U and Barcelona and was delighted to see Barcelona win the way they did. Unlike Chelski* (who played Barca in the semi-final and lost), they were respectable enough to not have “parked the proverbial bus” of 9 players right in front of the goal to evade the creative Barca attack. Delighted for the 42 million Barca fans. Delighted for football itself. Iniesta played like a dream. And when the 21 year old Messi scored, it felt like a personal victory. The commentary was by on of my best commentators, Clive Chelsey, and Terry. Chelsey’s commentary was sophisticated and respectable like always. Good commentary takes the game to another level, and Chelsey did just that! Thank God they didn’t let that cunt of a commentator, Andy-hysteria-Grey, do any commentary on the momentous occasion. The stats were that the Barca midfield and the Man U defense had the best passing rate - which just about summed it up!
Barcelona’s victory given their creative and fair gameplay, swift, one-touch inter-passing, was a victory for football itself.
*Chelsea football club is mockingly referred that way by fans of rival clubs like Liverpool and Manchester Untd.
Dogs — account of the night of 9th May, 4 am
The dogs howled out loud in a deep mournful cry, half with the ecstasy to have again seen their master, and half with the knowledge that their howling out a bit too loud might invite the master’s dismissal! all their actions were, in fact, governed by this, bound by these two lines drawn on either side… They could not show a bit too much love, they wanted to show love… The master came to the shop early at 4 am to open his chaaye shop - and one dog saw a small frog leap its way in to the shop… The dog went after it, it was his duty after all - to guard his master’s shop - but, again, he did it at the risk of inviting the master’s ire… Any moment the master would look at it and kick it or shoo it away, thinking the dog is sniffing for food. But the dog’s intent was clear - it wanted to get the frog out, it used its paws as the frog leaped inside the four legs of a table. another dog by now also came a little inside the premises. Then when the master had laid out the whole shop, he picked up his broom to give it a final clean, so it could function for the day. So as the master broomed, from beneath the dogs’ feet, the dogs too on their own accord, and with the dirt, whisked away! — knowing that since cleaning has begun for business to commence, their presence is unwanted.
The dogs came to me, I fed them biscuits. She had knots tied at her brows, but was looking the other way…! Waiting with tension, for the biscuit! She was looking the other way which said that she didn’t really care whether I gave her the biscuits or not, but the knotted brows had another story to tell. Well, strange are the ways of a bitch’s heart! Another dog joined in soon after…
But… why on earth do I identify with that sniffing dog….?!
War with the word
[and now] …am at war with the world. [this is] what I do best - what brings out the true character in me - war with the world in my thoughts! And my weapon is the weapon of J. Alfred Prufrock- the weapon of mass observation - I shall observe and in it shall lie my revenge. I observe everything - like some freaked out God looking at the world from the cosmos beyond - or like some ghost sitting all hunched in a tree - holding on to his cigarette which has kept him from his great fall - off the tree! The fumes dance tandem to the song, ‘ye duniya agar mil bhi jaaye to kya hai’.
PS This is much less freaky that what I traditionally write down, but to give you a dosage of that, I will have to start first with a long prologue. Will do that sometime too!
