Blood Wall

There was the empty space. There was the wall. There was the wide blue of the sea. There was a tiny speck. There was a fly squashed carelessly on the wall, sticking with bent legs crushed in stunning reprise. There was an emerald green island dotting the ocean.

Eyes to notice. Eyes to forget. Apprehend the meaning and then move on. To a bigger black spot. Till the stain grows out of your soul like white boiling milk left to run over. And then one day it's your turn to be swatted. Your blood, whether red or blue or dark, it does not matter: it forms another stain on another wall.

Forget? Why? What? Beauty? Do you have it that much, that you want to forget it? Why are you so arrogant? Don't you think it does matter.

Yes, it does.

Blessing in disguise for English cricket?

The two Andrews for the time being together--both men who have more brains and more guts than some of their counterparts who have had natural flairs but quite a serious lack of grit for fight. Andrew Flower and Andrew Strauss!

What a combination it already feels. Strauss would probably have been always the first choice skipper, had not the English selectors continued with their mystifying ways of selecting bits-and-pieces players ahead of him. They too often forget a good Test batsman is a good batsman anywhere. It's interesting what kind of bonding the two Andys develop, especially if they continue on with their roles after the WI tour: since both have been mentally strong players, both have been very strong square of the wicket, and how do young spinners like Adil Rashid come up with this set-up. Next year's Ashes seems to be another humdinger, especially with it being set in England, with the Aussies not at all what they were but not yet the team easily beaten, and with the English lions starting to roar: Pietersen might want to now look at the game a little more unselfishly and hence more soberly and thinking of the team at least at some time and with a little less arrogance; Flintoff's golden autumn should be ending on a high note barring injury; and Stuart Broad and Adil Rashid should give some real all-rounders to follow in the footsteps of Freddie for the time to come. Captaincy would bring the best of Strauss to fore, I think, in terms of batting: he already would be a very shrewd captain.

The only thing left to do: even though Matt Prior is going strong, England should look towards the future now, and blood James Foster. Flower should increase his weightage, and look to get in his former Essex mate in; the courage young Foster showed on a tough India tour under Nasser Hussain was something which foretold a lot about him.

rainbow & sprout

where were you running
the last time i saw you?
the floor checkerboards
hadn't subsided yet, and
ants were peeing in the cracks
barely begun, big black ones,
and now you say you were going?

no, we need to fill the concrete
and the black sky overhead
needs a sun, a moon, and some stars,
some sandpaper to make them dull
so that the house doesn't burn
for how much dazzle can it take?
Stoke the fire, the sprouts are withering.

paint the sky, paint the roof!
there, see the window? see that
old woman, gasping, red
trying to throw in the garbage,
while we were busy painting the whole
night and day, making our home;
keep the ears open, keep the eyes open.

People are so crazy, and so sad,
and we have become so miserable, we feel
helpless, and then we love each other:
show the world the seven-colored
shining rainbow, and we know now
everybody has to come home:
even that sleeping god.