On 30th June 2016, Gurpreet Sandhu became the first Indian to play at the UEFA Europa League qualifying round when he started for Stabæk F.C. against Connah’s Quay. This article, however, is not about him. This is rather about the first Indian to have played abroad. Yes, an Indian had played for Celtic. The same … Continue reading The First Bald Step and How it Fizzled Out
Recently elected Pakistan PM Imran Khan has come up with a seemingly beautiful offer to India’s prime minister Narendra Modi. He made this proposal on his first official call to the Indian PM on Saturday.
His suggestion sounds unique and out of the box in many ways. If implemented, it has the potential to put the long running Indo-Pak tension surrounding Kashmir to a permanent rest. In fact, not just the Kashmir issue, but several other deadlocks may be broken following frutification of the Pak PM’s suggestion.
Being an erstwhile cricketer, the new PM’s proposal centres around the gentleman’s game. He suggests that India and Pakistan play a ten over veterans’ cricket match with the following rules:
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Satire 🙂
1. It takes a lot of time. They say time is money. Stop being the prodigal son. Save some time aka money. In case you don’t know about the prodigal son, invest some time in learning about him
2. It consumes a lot of energy. Energy is precious.We all need to consume it for our own good
3. It takes a lot of patience. You may run out of it. That may lead to severe consequences like falling out with your significant other, spat with the guy at the petrol pump, arguments with your boss that may have far-fetched consequences. You would be safer with some of your patience intact
4. It’s unhygienic in a way. You sweat a lot while working out. Sweat is gross. You should never sweat. Besides, sweat stains on your brand new Cristiano Ronaldo shirt? Can you afford that? Ever?
5. It affects your personality.
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Not a drop of booze, yet am drunk. No iota of drugs, yet stoned like a skunk. Bestowed on our world is a wide-eyed dream — Mo Salah, you’re our valorous king. LivRoma Bestow
Our depleted conscience will, some day, sink deep in the earth and await the world’s end. We’ll be a sea of dead pigs walking in the garb of men. Conscience? What’s that? All we care for is the head to be held high - not our’s, but Napoleon’s head. We adorn him with the … Continue reading Sorry, Asifa
‘Twill be 15th April tomorrow. We’ll light a candle on our front porch or at the India Gate. The hounds will smack us and draw our blood. The squirrels will still say you brought it on yourself – By choosing a wrong set of parents, by being kind to that pony and lurking alone … Continue reading The Curse of the Dead Leaves
Sorry, this one’s in Bengali 😉 কাফকা নামের কেকটি খেতে যেদিন পৌঁছে গেলাম মন্জিনিসের ঘরে আমার নিজের মেঘবালিকা সেদিন চড়লো এসে মাঝরাতেতে ঘাড়ে. ফুঁ মেরে এক ক্যান্সারেতে ঘুম তাড়িয়ে বললাম আমি, “মেঘ হয়েছিস, বৃষ্টি হবি? দিস ভিজিয়ে মনের জমি?” সে বললো, “বৃষ্টি হবো নাকো, তার বদলে বাদলা হাওয়া হয়ে তোমার মনে বৈব সারাদিন, জাগিয়ে … Continue reading A Tribute to Joy Goswami
It’s the kingdom of beans, and beans are its prey. It’s the era of shrimps, and shrimps are at bay. For every inch you tend to fly, stick to the manual, don’t stray. For your meagre beanhood’s sake, don’t stray. It’s the kingdom of beans, beans we all are. Beans we ever tend to stay … Continue reading Dystopia
Lured by Miss Havisham’s quirkbox, Philip messed his doe-eyed childhood. The sight of gran’s pink dress almost killed little Red Riding Hood. Love kills black widow spiders - lovers turn dish for their partners. For some never committed vice, Desdemona paid with her life. It’s a big world, a bad world - a whacking weird … Continue reading Laments of a Venus Fly Trap
Ronaldo comes with a “Christiano” tag these days. Paolo Maldini runs a fashion brand now. Romario and Bebeto score goals in history books. Lance Armstrong is screwed, so are Michael Schumacher and Tiger Woods - by different means and magnitudes. This was my idea of James Bond: They say he’ll look like this in the … Continue reading A Brief History of my Disintegrated Childhood
