Warning: This is a blog that lacks intellectuality. My levels of IQ stand as lofty as that of Paris Hilton's pet pomeranian and my knowledge of current affairs is as deep as Mandira Bedi's of cricket. I mostly ramble about the trivialities of my everyday life, F.R.I.E.N.D.S, friends n family, movies, cricket; basically thoughts that would enter the mind of any Sita, Gita or Rita.

Note: I was busy drooling over the pages of Playboy during my English classes in school. So please bare with any grammatical blunders or the obvious lack of classic literary writing. (I was a little confused between the selection of 'bear' and 'bare' in the sentence above so I resorted to my favorite inky-pinky-ponky routine)

If you happen to pass by, feel free to register your presence. coz yeh duniya bahot chhoti hai aur yeh zindagi bahot lambi. Kya pata, someday somewhere, you and I might end up discussing about it over a cup of garam garam masala tea.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Cometh the man, cometh the hour

The saying is supposed to be the other way around. But then there are some men who dictate the way history books are written. Men who scale heights which the ordianry mind cannot even fathom. Men who leave a mark of their own. Men, without whose acknowledgement, even time cannot tick.

Today, India's favorite son turns 35. Cricket in India is what it is today because of this one man. It may loose its religion status in the decades to come; people may stop following it; people may stop talking about cricket; but this man will reside in the head n heart of every cricket lover as long as there is air n water on earth.

It has always been a pleasure watching him bat.. Cheers.. to the living legend..


Anonymous said...

ok that's fine, i just made lots of different emo backgrounds on my blog