Ever since my dad got transferred back to Mysore, there seems to be an added competition at home when it comes to who gets the T.V remote. During the days when dad was in Banglore, when it came to the remote, I used to fight with my granny (ajji). Ajji is one tough cookie. She watches nearly 10 serials/soaps a day. Now, I’m not complaining. She deserves to relax as she is the one who feeds us with her deliciously cooked food. But there are days when I feel like watching some T.V myself. And all my primetime shows gets clashed with ajji’s never-ending soaps. But that doesn’t stop me from catching at least a few minutes of my shows "in-between”. I’ll be waiting eagerly with the remote in my hand, hoping for her exaggeratedly ridiculous T.V soap to arrive at an Ad break and that’s when I grab my opportunity to quickly surf the channels that I want to see. Even though it’s only for a few minutes before ajji would say “Haku” and mono-syllabically remind me to change the channel back to her precious elastic band soap (I call them elastic band because, they elongate a single story plot to such an extent that the story looks stagnant for a period of about a month!), I find peace in the fact that I got to watch some T.V that day. And sometimes I shamelessly end up enjoying ajji’s soaps too but I never give her the satisfaction that I've enjoyed it as I keep retorting in-between as to how ridiculous the characters are!
That’s how mine and ajji’s daily routine was. But today when I came downstairs at prime-time to catch some T.V action, I noticed an extra competitor ready with the remote in his hand to change the channel the moment ajji’s soap entered an Ad break. My dad grinned at me and purposefully waved the remote in my face before he flipped the T.V to show some IPL action. “Ugh, now I have to endure cricket too”, I grumbled in a low voice before seating myself on the sofa with an air of resignation.
When it comes to cricket, all I can do is just doze off. I just don’t have the required interest in it. I always felt amazed how those people seated in the stadium are able to sit through an entire match. Forget the test match, even an ODI takes forever to finish. And hence T-20 looks like a mere game of 20 minutes to the hard-core fans. But for me, cricket means slow-moving of time. I just don’t have the patience to sit through an entire match. And so here I was, sitting and grumbling and occasionally (despite the non-interest) asking dad who the captain of Delhi Daredevil was. I had forgotten how fun it is to watch a cricket match with dad around. He makes the whole game look like its being played by a bunch of clowns. He always has something funny to say about each cricketer. So I chucked the broodings of missing some of my shows today and I realized that I was glad to have my dad back as I really missed his funny quips on daily basis.
After sometime, dad dozed off and started snoring. By then, his funny quips and interesting insights on the cricketers playing that day (DD v/s CSK) got me glued to the IPL fever and as the match looked to be in the favour of Chennai Super kings, I wanted to see if I was correct. Ajji, seeing that her son had successfully dozed off, happily and stealthily tried to change the channel back to her precious soap. “Ajji, naanu nodthidini cricket na. In en match mugiyathe”, I told ajji that even I’m watching the match and asked her not to change the channel for some time. Now it was my granny’s turn to grumble but nonetheless she obliged and surrendered me the remote.
Now, I knew that Chennai would win today. So I ended up observing some “off-field” stuffs that I had failed to notice till now. Whenever the cricketers were not batting or bowling or fielding, the camera took interest in the crowd. Apart from frequently focusing on the dancing cheer-leaders, the camera-man made sure the entire nation got a few second glimpses of all the pretty and charming damsels present at the podium that night. This was no surprise as IPL is built for only 3 things: “Entertainment, entertainment and entertainment”.
But what made me laugh were the different reactions that would dance on these pretty faces whenever they noticed that their face was all over the big-screens at the podium. One girl laughed with triumph and ended up jumping up and down with hysteria on having seen herself on the big-screen. Another girl bravely faced the camera and gave her most charming smile. And some ladies would plainly ignore that they were being shown on the big-screen.
Apart from the cheer-leaders and the random pretty girls that they captured on the big-screen from time to time, the camera-man made sure even the men got some action. And so he zoomed-out and made sure all the men were seen on the big-screen “at a time”. Poor men, they looked like they belonged to a band on monkeys. They indeed acted like monkeys, jumping on one another just to make sure they could briefly see themselves on the big-screen. No doubt, they would go home that day and tell their mothers, wives and children an exaggerated version of how they got captured on-screen for a long time!
In the end, despite myself I had to agree that this IPL, though flashy in many ways, is fun to watch now and then. Apart from the usual cricket, I liked observing the people present on the stadium today. I don’t think they would ever get bored if they are seated in the podium. Firstly the cricket in itself is such an exciting fever to have and celebrate when they are in the stadium and secondly and most importantly, the mere excitement and the expectancy of having to see their face on the “big-screen” (may be even for a second!) is also an exciting feeling to have for any die-hard cricket fan.
Image source- google.