The blue moon is here

Four years ago, I stood in a Bangladeshi restaurant in Manhattan, watching the Indian team complete their win over Pakistan in the 2003 World Cup. It was about 10 in the morning, and I had stayed awake (on my feet, no seats mind you) all night. I was tired, utterly exhausted but elated. A few feet away from me, a young Pakistani supporter sat downcast, cradling his head in his hands. I stared at him, reading his utterly shattered expression, and experienced a strange emotion: I was actually feeling sorry for a Pakistani fan. This evening, as I caught up with the highlights for the first day's play (I had only been able to watch the pre-lunch session last night), I realized I'd come close to feeling that other rare emotion: feeling sorry for the Pakistani team. This bedraggled, morose, injury-stricken mob is not a team. Perhaps they'll pick themselves up off the ground. For the sake of the cricket fan, I hope so. Yesterday's performance at the Eden Gardens was terrible; it started with the bizarre selection of Akhtar and continued with the uninspired bowling and fielding, and limpid body language all day (And yes, practice before a test has claimed another victim, this time the Pakistani captain).