Humour: IPL finally does some good!

The first quarter of the event is over. In spite of the daily newspaper headlines and the hullabaloo over cricketing drama, you, as a sane person, aren’t, honestly, watching the IPL (Indian Political/Paisa/Premier League) keenly if you are not a die-hard Chris Gayle fan or a Shah Rukh worshipper, a Kingfisher employee or a Rohit Sharma-inspired unfortunate soul whose boss has told him he’s got the “potential to rise”!

Sincerely speaking, the IPL was much more exciting when it debuted in 2008. It had grabbed the eyes of even fans who were least earnest about cricket and no wonder it had taken the centre stage of Indian cricket faster than anyone had predicted. The music, the colour, the glamour, the concept and the cricket – IPL was an extravaganza that shot up Set Max’s TRP like Kieron Pollard’s strike-rate! But here comes the sixth edition now. Too much of goodness can be exasperating after a certain dosage! The glamour, the blitz, the mash-ups have ceased to be as appealing as before. You no longer sit up straight at 8 p.m. these days and you’d prefer surfing the movie channels during the innings break than watching Navjot Singh Sidhu’s ever-so-expressive eyes check out the cheerleaders who, clad in micro outfits, do a frequent jig few feet away from him!

With Sameer Kochhar’s announcements redefining the paleness of a bored anchor, you can almost sense his true words behind those vacant-as-void praises for Sher-i-Paa! Farah Khan’s disastrous choreography and the cricket-analysts-turned-dancers remind you of someone called Johnny Bravo!

As the match begins, you’d start realizing that even The Flintstones is a more amusing family-show than the IPL. Flat pitches, runs galore, boundaries and over-boundaries in the blink of an eye – sometimes you feel it’s all too planned. Then suddenly, someone named Ashish Reddy picks up a wicket out of the blue and motivates the cheerleaders more than the fielders. As you feast your uninterested eyes on the navel-display, the commercials suddenly crop up and you are now subjected to cartoon-like deodorants and irrelevant contraceptives. Then as soon as you prepare to change the channel for your 14-year-old junior’s sake, the ever-so-nightmarish sound of the trumpet fills your room and you get a top-view of a cricket stadium. And for a couple of seconds, you wonder if the organizers had actually hit the spot with the FM commercial about a mother singing her child to sleep, but ultimately surrendering to the dreadful IPL trumpet!

Come the IPL, and the Indian players come back to form all of a sudden as if Srinivasan has cast a spell on them. Watching the likes of Rohit Sharma, Ishant Sharma, Gautam Gambhir and Amit Mishra producing match-winning performances, none can blame you for wondering whether IPL is just a notch above the national team, for these cricketers. At the next instant, you find a comparison going on in your mind. Seriously, which fashion designer designed the Hyderabad Sunrisers’ jersey? Let alone the franchisee name which reminds you of spices and flavoured raw products, the SRH outfit is more hideous than Ajay Devgan’s jackets in Himmatwala!

As you try to concentrate on the match in front of you, you are left aghast as the batsman gets dismissed by a loose full toss delivery while attempting a shot which Gavaskar will need help naming. The jubilation follows, and the camera again focuses on the skimpy skirts of the cheerleaders! You roll your eyes and change your channel finally. Even Aaj Tak goof-ups are more exciting than this hell of an event.

Then your eyes fall on the couple tickets which you had bought for the weekend’s game at the stadium. The DLF (oops, Pepsi) logo is shining brightly in the light of your room. You grab it with one hand and decide to tear it up. Just before applying the right amount of pressure, you remember your sexagenarian boss had desperately requested you to arrange a couple of tickets more for him and his wife. You grin at the thought crossing your mind and you dial his number. Two minutes later, you switch off your phone along with the T.V, having made arrangements for a promotion. Ah! At least this tournament has finally done you something good!