The feeling.

I grab at the virgin white vest, that should do nicely for Bored Cricket Crazy Indians’ first Bored Day.

It’s weird, but it does feel like a person’s birthday. It could even be mine. I think it is mine. It’s tough to compare the exact feeling, for it’s been 10 months since my birthday. It’s been one year since Bored was born.

Last night I thought Bored came to be at 12.05 AM. That gave me 7 more minutes to repost the first post.

It was a little post, but I think that was, and is what Bored Cricket Crazy Indians is to me.

It asks, what is cricket to you? And if cricket is to you what it is to you, and you say it, and know it, and love it with enough honesty, there can be some crazy fucking beauty to it.

It can be one of the last scenes from American Beauty, where you are Kevin Spacey, and you’re shot dead, but you die with a smile. You die knowing you loved cricket, and you’re alright.

Only here it’s an Indian beauty. And that is why I've always said, the only grammar at BCC! is Cricket. Teri Maa Ki!

And that gets better, when you have Q from Pakistan, and Damith from Sri Lanka. And you realise, this is the subcontinent, this is our cricket. Cricket with a tadka.

But then you can get greedy, and you want the whole world to write here. To wake up not knowing who's written what about where and when.

Maybe you will too. I want your thoughts, your words.

And that Bored Anthem keeps ringing in my head, most of the time.

And then I’m logging in, and what do I write, Bored Day…instead of Bored Cricket…

It’s a rush. Man, it’s our Happy Bored Day.



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