Short Story 5: Curious Case of the Golden Shoe.

Vijay was flying west and had just landed at the airport where he and his fellow classmates all were on course to a job interview. They began to discuss about the company and dress code for the interview the next day. Vijay was proud that he had packed a suit along with a formal shirt and trousers; and then the discussion moved on the color of shoes. He shifted his attention to the white Nike shoes and black socks as part of his journey apparel. Just then a dreaded thought struck like bullet in his mind; he had forgotten to pack his formal shoes for the interview. He realized that fear had the power that would make one sweat on the air conditioner.


No sooner he checked into the hotel, he began his hunt for his magic shoe. He began to wander like nomad in search of his treasure holding directions and looking for signs. The picture of him wearing a black trouser, blue suit, white shirt, red tie and white shoe; ‘Mera Naam Joker’ gave him a 440 volt spike which drove him towards the nearest mall. He entered a branded shoe showroom and a pretty young lady came upto him for help. She showed him a bunch of black leather shoes, Vijay picked up a decent shoe that went well with the trouser. Got it packed and moved to the billing counter. ‘440 dollars sir, credit or debit’ asked the lady in red. His so called magic shoe was now a golden shoe.


Vijay’s face turned pale, eyes opened wide open staring at the price tag. He had heard that leather was expensive in the country, but this was ridiculous. The shoe’s cost was more than his airfare, more than his rent check. By then his credit card was halfway through to the cashier via his outstretched hand, backing off was no more an option. “What is the return policy? in case of an exchange” Vijay asked the cashier. This sounded a valid question, but it was a brilliant idea that struck him that split second. Idea of using the shoe for one day and return it after interview was a golden one, nothing new though, he had used it for books, electronics and many more. Finally after signing the bill he picked up his golden shoe and headed towards his hotel. Logged into the internet and checked his credit card statement, it read USD 440, stared at it for seconds. He then placed his golden shoe beside his pillow and went to bed peacefully.


And by Murphy’s Law (`Anything that can go wrong will go wrong`) it was raining like cats and dogs the next day, he was still debating about risking his 440 dollar shoe for an interview. Finally decided to take his chances and stepped out his room. He positioned his umbrella in such way that it covered his entire shoe taking preference over his head, and headed towards the venue for the interview. The interview process lasted the entire day, he skipped a heart beat when every drop of water that fell on his shoe. He was more worried about his shoe than the interview, probably that too his mind off the interviews. Interviews went well and later that day he headed straight to the store to return his golden shoe. He had to go through awkward conversation with the saleswomen and cashier while returning the shoe. All he cared was his 440 dollars which was credited back to his card.


A week later he got a job offer from that company and gracefully accepted it. Finally when he joined the company couple of months later and at the end of first day when everyone would gone to the temple to thank the almighty GOD, Vijay went to the golden shoe store and picked up his lucky shoe and began staring at it and wondering whether wearing the magic shoe got him his job or returning the shoe. He walked to cashier and used the same credit card and bought the shoe.


This indeed was a curious case of golden shoe.

Short Story 4: Unforgettable Night

At 7 pm Vijay entered the local terminal from the train that connected it to international. He looked like a punished prisoner with his 20 lbs bag-pack and dragging his two 50 lbs luggage running from one corner of the terminal to the baggage check. 8 PM was what the departure time printed on his boarding pass pushed over from 7:15.  Next 30 mins he was roaming in the airport and wondering when he would rest his arse on the soft cozy bed of his. Suddenly the weather alert on the TV showing "Heavy snow storm in the City" drew his attention. His heart missed a beat when he saw his fight being delayed by an hour. Peeping through window he saw the snow covered the airport and with light reflection making it RIN SAFEDI white. He had forgotten that it was mid Jan and he was in countries most windy and snowy city; another update and flight delayed by 45 mins. He had heard “Delays were dangerous”, realized it was frustrating too.

The outside temperature read -20 C and it was 20 C in his native; not only were the two cities diametrically opposite, but also weather equally other side of 0C. Only Vijay could think about this when one’s flight gets delayed. By Airlines grace at 9:45 the boarding began, and by 10 all passengers were seated. Vijay was so tired that he could barely check out the Air Hostess as he always did, let alone listening to their seat-belt instructions. A loud crying kid across the aisle woke him, he heard the Air Hostess announcing about the heavy snow storm and that they were waiting for weather to ease out, he didn’t even bother for Air Hostess to finish he fell asleep again.

Roughly 2 hrs later Vijay was woken by a fellow angry passengers yelling at the crew and some using their weekend minutes out loud. He peeped out of the window and the scene looked familiar, and more over his destination airport was not that huge and there weren’t too many lights around. He was partially scared and partially hungry and that’s when one’s mind really works in the reverse direction. His sixth sense sensed something bad, and he heard the sweet golden words "WE REGRET TO ANNOUNCE THAT THE FLIGHT HAS BEEN CANCELED DUE TO BAD WEATHER" sorry for the inconvenience!!! Putting 2 and 2 together he realized that the flight never took off at all. It stood stand still like a rock, white rock was more appropriate. 

One by one everyone moved out of the airplane into the gate and stood in the queue for a rescheduled flight. Vijay smiled at the attendant and picked up his ticket and the flight time read 2:40, he was happy that he could fly soon and then saw the text PM in bold letters (2:40 pm, next day afternoon). And just to rub salt on the wound there was no refund, as the cancellation was due to weather, now one more reason to hate weather, but they would provide hotel at a discounted rate of $70. He met an INDIAN couple with a 2 yr old; incidentally boarded from his native in the same flight, they decided to rent a car and drive back. They came out of the airport to headed towards the rental shuttle stand, out came the gusting wind at -20 C making him realize what winter was. Holy mother of GOD were his exact words, it was 20C when he had left his native. Since he was a shabby packer, he accidentally had small winter jacket (enough to keep me alive) in his cabin bag, which otherwise would have been in his check in luggage.

At 3 am they began their marathon drive in a weather, which mighty Airplane refused to take off. Sitting in the front seat and watching their car cut through the snow increased his heart beat and with more blood pumping into his brain helped him fight against the sleep, well supported by the jetlag. The visibility was so poor that they could barely see the headlights of the car ahead. For the first time in his life he was as focused as Arjuna of Mahabharata in watching the road, that he could barely hear the kid crying in the rear seat. Every mile covered was like an inch encroached into the enemy territory by the army. By GODS grace n Chevy Impala reached his apartment at 9 am and 10 mins later was found resting his arse on his soft cozy bed of his. The sense of relief and the joy of reaching home in one piece was enough to take his mind off missing his home town.

It truly was an Unforgettable Night

Short Story 3: Power Cut.

Wind was roaring like a ferocious lion attempting to enter the apartment via the small opening b/w two sliding transparent doors; that stood b/w the warm cozy 75 F interior and the cold darn 0 F exterior. Vijay was seen comforting on his soft spongy bed, had no idea what the day had to offer him. Sudden flash of light entered his relatively dark room and woke him up. As usual flipped opened his laptop to take a look at the time, realized that it was out of battery searched for the power cord but it was inserted to the laptop. It felt a bit strange seeing his laptop’s battery dead as he never ever removed his power cord and his laptop always ran 24/7.

He then reached for his mobile, the only other source of date and time in the house it showed 10:10 am with its battery indicating low. Plugged the phone to charger and it wouldn’t charge. Still in the state of sub-conscious gazed through the window to see his car submerged upto the wheels in the heavy snow, it felt like dream land everything covered in snow. He needed cricinfo to charge him up, did everything to power his laptop up, switched chargers, switched ports nothing seemed to work, and finally realized that their building had a power outage.

Vijay felt like an INDIAN batsman entering an unknown territory of pace and bounce in Australia, he had entered the unknown territory of blackout. Even though he had been through the power-cuts in his native country; he felt lost and didn’t know what to do, as he had never experienced this situation in this country before. Back in his country they had candles, emergency lamps, flash lights as backups; he had nothing close to any of those at his apartment.

Suddenly he felt hungry and the whole idea of skipping dinner as part of weight loss didn’t feel good. He took out the milk gallon from the refrigerator poured it into his mug and placed it in the microwave as he did every single day. He pressed the magic button (the add 30 sec button) and wouldn’t respond as it needed Benjamin Franklin’s electricity. For the first time in this country he was proud of his kitchen as it had gas based burner, other apartments had electric ones; he turned the knob of the burner to auto-ignite, heard the click but nothing happened; it took him five attempts to realize that auto-ignite ran on power. How ironical, power is needed for something that is an alternative for power. He felt like driving on the wrong side of the one-way street.

He needed some form of fire to ignite the burner; for the first time being a non-smoker pinched him very badly, atleast he would have had a lighter and with the absence of mini-temple eliminated the oil-lamps and hence matchstick. Suddenly the picture of his good looking neighbor smoking in the balcony struck his mind; he always hated smokers, especially women smokers. “Wow she smokes, thank GOD she smokes, long live smokers” were his words, how ironical `long live smokers!!!`.He had lent her sugar one day now it was her turn to lend him fire or something that produces it. Stepped out of the apt and entered the hallway, it was pitch black dark, walked to her apartment and knocked her door.

In this country since guests call before they come in, the host generally knows who is coming to their apt, so when someone knocks the door, the first reaction is ‘who the hell is it?’ that was exactly what he heard from inside. ‘Your neighbor next door’ he replied, ‘coming’ was the reply. No sooner she opened the door ‘can I borrow a matchbox’ he asked in a very low tone. He had a problem talking to women especially the good looking ones; prettier the women lower was his voice, a problem similar to Raj Kootrapalli of Big Bang Theory sitcom fame. Without uttering a single word he picked up the matchbox nodded his headed back to his apartment.

When he stroked the matchstick against the matchbox to create fire and ignite the burner he had goose-bumps; he felt as delighted as Tom Hanks in CAST AWAY, though the later had used stone to ignite a spark. Milk began to boil and the aroma of BRU coffee filled his eyes with tears as it reminded him of the coffee house at his native. Poured steaming coffee into a cup and started sipping it, gazing through the balcony. He now had enough caffeine and sugar in his body to survive the entire day.

Short story 2: Maula Mere Lele Meri Jaan

Last minute into the World Hockey Championship PAK leading IND 1 to 0. Kabir Khan was marching his team forward gets hit by the opponent player and topples over. Referee whistles & IND get penalty stroke. He held the hopes of entire country, his hockey stick & scooped the ball aiming over the goalie, but the misses he goalpost by a foot and IND lose the game 0 to 1. Kabir can’t believe that he missed such an easy shot, the shot which he had mastered over the years. As a fact of sportsmanship Kabir shakes hand with a PAK players and was captured by camera & is printed on the main page of the next day’s news paper. The issue blows out of proportion and Kabir is treated as a Traitor.

Vijay the last batsman walks with 3 runs needed of 3 balls for his team to qualify for the finals. His eyes lit up seeing the full delivery outside off stump; muscles it over the covers ball lands just behind the fielders & scampers for 2. Scores were level, out came the cry from the dugout, run for everything, non-striker take a start; he walked upto the non-striker and punched his fist against his and took a fresh guard. Instead of focusing on the bowler the memories of AUS-SAF WC 99 semi-final lingered in his mind. He swung blindly and missed the ball completely so did the keeper, the scene where Kabir Khan kneeling with head down and hockey stick in this hand was witnessed when Vijay rather than scampering for a single was found on his knees with head bowed down. He neither heard the cry from the non-striker nor abuses and swears from the angered dug-out as he was in a state of mental block ; He actually recreated AUS-SAF WC 99 semi-final.

7 years later Kabir Khan took the challenge of coaching the Women’s Hockey Team for the World Championship in-order to restore his lost pride. Scene shifts to the penalty shoot-out where INDIA lead AUS by 5-4. Australian striker attempts to lob the ball over the goalie but Vidya Sharma (Goalie) stood still between the ball & the post. There is sudden silence in the stadium, entire Aussie team was in tears but the victorious INDIA girls were jumping in joy. Emotional Kabir Khan is seen in tears, it was more than match to him; the scene where he watches the INDIAN flag shining high & “Maula Mere Lele Meri Jaan” playing in the background told the whole story. The tag of traitor was off his back.

Vijay is seen practicing his trademark straight-drive in the dug-out and was sunk in the memories of scoring a straight boundary over the bowler in the last over of the finals that he played a month ago in a different city & for a different team. Tension prevails in the dug-out; yelling and swearing continues, entire team was aware of Vijay’s heroics of scoring boundary in the last over and they were hoping for a Déjà vu. Last man Vijay walks in with the intention to take the monkey off his back; which was tagged onto him for a year now. The term “he did a Vijay” had become infamous. Two things were in his favor; bowler was bowling full and there was no long-off fielder. He just stood outside his crease and didn’t take guard this time and shut his mind off and focused on the bowler.

Bowler speared in a full length delivery and as a natural instinct his foot went to the pitch of the delivery and with high elbow swung through the line of the delivery. The meaty part of the bat struck the ball and he watched the ball pass the boundary with a couple of bounces. Out came the entire team in joy with captain literally lifting Vijay off the ground. He was their hero of the day.

Vijay was happy that the monkey of finals was off his back and felt exactly like what Kabir had felt when Vidya saved the goal for INDIA, he had tears in his eyes. And the background music “Maula Mere Lele Meri Jaan” kept playing in his mind.

Note: The character Vijay is purely fictional, and has no relevance to living or dead.

Short Story 1: Spring Break

DOSTANA AAJ KAL

Movies have a tremendous influence on our lives, we pick a lot of things from movies, be it hairstyle or the way we dress or the way we talk and walk; we sometimes relate ourselves to the movies we watch atleast the realistic ones. Ain’t most movies extrapolation of real life scenarios? Doesn't Director use the social environment and stuffs it with cultures and values present in the society and create a complete package called movie? Even though all the characters are fictional & far too idealistic, efforts always remain to relate the characters in the movie with real life individuals. So the theme and thought process put forward is in and around that era or can only go a step ahead.

Movies of 70’s were built on concept of 'a friend in need is a friend indeed', coupled with twist in their friendship either due to wealth or women or a villain striking a discord between them. One movie that stands for all these is Dostana (1980). It’s a story of two friends Vijay( Amitabh as Inspector), Ravi(Shatrugan as Lawyer) both falling in love with Zeenat(Miss Sheetal). Their friendship was so deep that it never conflicted their professional lives. It’s a landmark in the INDIAN cinema as it represents Dostana or friendship of 70s or bromance as it could be called. Be it a friend sacrificing his love for the other, or a friend trying to destroy the other in the wake of misunderstanding, it truly was an epitome of friendship. "I can't build castle of mirth on the grave of my friend’s dreams"; that dialogue spoke for the whole decade of friendship.

Things changed drastically when Dostana(2008) hit the silver screen, it gave a new dimension to friendship that never existed much before or something that wasn't spoken or heard off, yes the three letter word 'GAY'. Until then there was a thick line b/w being true friends and being termed gay, but Dostana (2008) reduced it to wafer thin atleast among we INDIANs. To such an extent that it has made two men invariably maintain an arms distance, forget about putting arms over the shoulder. And our approach & thought process to this matter and is as unreal & lighthearted as gay relationship b/w Abhishiek and John in the movie. In today's world just like in the movie one would even pretend to be gay if the necessity demands, be it for an apartment or for a job or even getting close to female.

Yash Johar's 1980 Dostana was known for the dialogues b/w the legends Amitabh and Shatrughan & the intense characters that those two portrayed. Amitabh was an ideal son, responsible brother, caring lover & faithful friend. B/w them and along with Shatru it was a movie that represented the 70's culture. If Amitabh was the heartthrob of the 70's, Zeenat was the woman to watch out for. It was a movie close to be called complete.

Karan Johar's Dostana (2008) filled in all the void gaps that it's predecessor had left. It was complete movie, it had bikini clad Shilpa & Priyanka having a healthy competition for the men, muscular and brief clad John for the women, and the chemistry b/w John & Abhishiek for the rest.

And the term Baap Nambari to Beta Dus Nambari truly holds good for the Bachchans as later made 10 times more profit than the former.

PS: The blogs intention is not to hurt anyone’s feelings. Forgive me if I might have unintentionally.

Does Birbal Cat Strategy Work Everywhere ?

In an episode in the sitcom "Everybody loves Raymond" (Sarabhai Vs Sarabhi is its INDIAN version) Raymond advises Robert, how to get away from doing the house hold chores. His strategy was basically to messes up the first time so that Debra, his wife never gave any important or extra chores. What struck me was that it was a no brainier strategy; it’s was the same old strategy that I was accused of using to get away from doing work. The fact was that I was inherently messy.

Just mess up a bit or give a cold response the first time and world would never assign you extra task. This strategy was demonstrated by the Great Birbal using a cat. Because he fed his cat with steaming milk for the first couple of days, his cat never drank milk and always ran away from milk. And after a month when everybody's cat had grown big and healthy, Birbal's cat was pale and lean. Birbal even showed Akbar that his cat never drank milk upon offer and always ran away for it. Akbar was astonished in the first place and then praised Birbal for his intelligence when the secret was revealed.

In our busy day today lives we tend to over look these Birbal's cat strategists. In grocery stores, super markets, malls, colleges, banks, offices you find them everywhere. These are the Amitabhs (angry young man), who would spur fire when approached; and with their grin, serious (read: scary) faces one would pass out rather than talking to them let alone seeking help. And with none of us having time/patience that Akbar had to analyze this, we tend to approach people with Madhuri (read: pleasant & smiling) faces and get the job done. The irony is that in the short run these Madhuri faced people tend to get the extra work just because they are approachable.

Next time just observe whom you would prefer to approach Amitabh or Madhuri and see if you can decipher and find those Birbal's cat strategists.

Software Companies and Premier League Franchises

When a software company starts a new project it would divide the work load among its full- time employees, which would be a blend of experienced as well are fresh hires who would be trained in return for long term benefits towards the company. At times there would be a scenario where a chunk of work needs to be done at min cost and at a quicker pace. Training employees and then expecting an output from them might not be feasible all the time and that is where IT Consultants come into picture.

IT Consultants are experience and technically well equipped individuals who would advise, implement and deploy the IT System on businesses behalf. They are contracted for a predetermined duration on the project and are billed hourly. Because they add so much value they charge heavily and hence much is expected from them without much advice. Every project would have a cap on the amount spent on full-time employees and the IT Consultants. Also fixed is the number of IT Consultants that can be hired in some companies.

Premier League Franchises pick their team in no different way than a software company, which would be a blend of experienced cricketers who are at the top of their game. Well complemented with very talented fresh hires who would contribute and learn at the same in a hind view of long term benefits to these Franchises. To maintain proper balance in the team and to fill in the void gaps, specialist and experienced foreign players or over sea players are hired.

Because of the value they bring into the team they are purchased at a higher price and are typically auctioned and are contracted for a fixed duration of time. Expectations are high from them as they are paid heavily and so their contribution are heavily monitored. Every Franchise would have a cap on amount spent on local and foreign players.

If software companies earn by selling software produced by their employees, Premier League Franchises get richer by selling the game produced by their players. Users enjoy using their favorite software just as much spectators get entertained in watching their favorite game.

I might call that game cricket you might call it soccer.

Cricket and Swimming Pool - Interesting thought

Have you ever noticed in a public swimming pool where the people density is the highest, it is at the shallow areas. With feet grounded and nose above the water level every one seems to be a winner. It is the only place where a beginner & expert are at par. If you zoom in a bit, you see that those are the ones who seem to be enjoying the most, jumping, peddling & splashing around. They always are keen on getting more attention from the crowd for various reason apart from swimming.

But there is a radically different scene happening at the other end of the swimming pool, where people are swimming intensely putting their head down without bothering about attention. Their strokes are perfect and feet peddling in sync making it look ridiculously easy. They are there because they technically sound enough to sustain the fact that their feet no longer touch the ground and water level is past their nose. As the time elapses owing to energy drain or lack of stamina one can easily separate the best from the rest, and the gap between them keeps increasing, the more these people swim.

Twenty20 and Test matches are no different from shallow and the deep areas of the swimming pool respectively. The fact that anybody can win in a T20 on his day makes it far me exciting and hence seeks in lot of attention. But the real connoisseurs of the game(read: test match watchers) would hate it calling it rubbish and would rather love to watch a dead Test match where winner is known before the toss(read Ashes), rather than getting a glimpse of T20.

Just as in a Quality Assurance reducing the bar level doesn't always guaranty quality products, reducing the number of overs in cricket neither guaranties QUALITY CRICKET nor would guaranty quality players. But what it guaranties is the sheer quantity that would guaranty dollars in quick time and that is what drives cricket and for that matter even the SWIMMING POOL.

CROSS POST cric-times

Mera Gaon Seh Mera Desh

After the high profile IPL the focus now shifts from Rainbow Nation to the Nation when it always Rains, yes ENGLAND and with attention shifting to international cricket, it would a nice change to see players don their national colors. Playing for your franchise is one thing and playing for your NATIONAL team is totally different affair. The talks about value of a player, runs / dollar or wickets / dollars won’t dominate every time a player performs. Rather than having a faked City Vs City rivalry we now will have the real Country Vs Country rivalry. Matches like IND Vs PAK or AUS Vs NZ would bring back the tension and hype that existed on the field.

The IPL in rainbow nation with the local drummers and bugles’ along with the bollywood music played in the background created a carnival environment. Cloud and gloomy weather conditions in England compounded with “decent” crowds, who would either clap hands or sip bear, hopefully won’t take away the festival atmosphere that T20 brings along with itself. Bigger capacity grounds would increase crowd count.

There neither would be DLF maximums or CITI moments of success nor would the commentators thank the sponsors every 10 mins. Neither would Lalit Modi been shown talking on the phone every 15 mins. With no strategic timeouts, we would miss the glamour that was attached with Miss Bollywood South Africa and also the HEAT (Health Educate And Teach) convention which funded a lot of local student in SA. Players will miss definitely the hugging and kissing from their team owners.

Two things the players would carry from IPL; MONEY and INJURY. Money was all talked about throughout the IPL; injuries would now be talked about. No sooner would a player miss a game due to injury; an anti-IPL of statement of cricket overkill would be made. Already talks about Flintoff, Zaheer and Sehwag‘s fitness is being talked.

One thing that T20 lacked was and that IPL has provided is statistics or numbers; with so less T20 played prior T20 WC 2007 teams entered with an uncluttered mind, played mostly with instincts. Now with so many games and different scenarios and many unexpected results in IPL even the minnows would fancy their chances. 60 required in 4 overs, batting team would still fancy it, because they now have the right statistics to back them up. A sense of belief would seep in. And the memories of Rohit scoring the required 26 in the last over against Mortaza will give nightmares to every fielding captain when they arrive at a similar situation.

As they say attaining the top spot is easy maintaining that is tough, INDIA now face the burden of defending the World Cup title probably first time since 1983; this is something new to this INDIAN team. And in the recently concluded IPL we saw how Royals failed to live upto the expectation of defending the title. Hope the INDIAN team would be unfazed by the hype and would live by its expectation. Also like how Bangalore and Deccan bounced back one wouldn't mind Dutch or even England clinching the cup.

Let the focus shift on Mere Desh Ki Dharti from my Mera Gaon ki Chori.

Captains and their Theories

It’s Monday morning and as I tuned into cricinfo I realize that IPL 2.0 actually over, boy it would take me some time now to get out of this IPL hangover. Let me just cool off myself by taking a look how captains have fared in this IPL. Not long before the second edition of IPL started Buchannan proposed his unsuccessful multiple captain theory of having different captains for each game; but it ended up being a Ganguly ousting theory. Let’s spend some time on looking at IPL 2.0 from a captaincy perspective.

Cricket is a team game and Jumbo has shown what inspirational captaincy can do to a dull n dying team. A lot has talked about Warne’s captaincy much so because of the glamor he adds. One just can’t stop admiring Gentleman Kumble and his captaincy skills, took RCB from ashes where KP had left and almost struck gold but for drunken batting from their middle order. Kumble’s captaincy doesn’t have the glamor and poise that Warne possess, but it is simple and straight thinking coupled with bold decisions. He has shown what it means by taking the attack to opposition and leading from the front. His tactical move to bowl himself the first over against Gilly was truly sensational. As the saying “It’s all in the mind” and Kumble played with Gilly’s mind; this one among a few decisions that was a hallmark of his captaincy.

Dhoni can actually outplay QuickSort in finding a pivot player in a team and divide the team into young and old; this time blaming young players for their inability to throw the ball from the deep. He can always find a scapegoat but never would take a responsibility for the teams defeat. If Kumble had a depleted team Dhoni a bunch of match winners much like Ponting of Australia, all he had do was put them in order. But Dhoni’s ego coupled with poor team selection cost Super Kings the semis. Only Dhoni can answer why Raina didn’t bat at number three when he has been the best in that spot for the whole tournament, that why Ntini didn’t get a single game when CSK weakest link had been their bowling. And the idea of stuffing team with all-rounder looks too cliched when things don’t work out. Bad news is that he is going to screw up T20 WC because of his ego.

Attack is the best form of defense and this is what Gilly’s used to inspire his team; especially against Delhi in the semis. He tore Nannes apart by scoring 21 run in the first over and within 6 over the match was over atleast psychologically. And being the second highest scorer helped the cause. A year of no cricket had really charged up Gilly this time around, his team selection especially the phoren babas was a balanced one, 2 batsmen, all-rounder and a bowler. His selection of a genuine quick bowler (Edwards / Harris) to compliment RP’s swing saw spot on. With Gibbs, Symonds and Rohit fielding allowed him to use even his part-timers along with Ojha and Rohit to attack the batsman.

Peter Roebuck theory of T20 having no auto-pilots was definitely true this IPL as the Pilots were definitely in control.