Der Sohn Spricht

In the years that have passed since
I've thought of you every single day
The pain has numbed
But hope hasn’t yet betrayed
I thought there’d be anger
But that’s never been my forte
I respect the choice to be far away, but
Love her much to stop the search halfway

If you do choose to return, maybe, we’ll have a smoke man to man
Exchange tales that only grown men would understand
Dread the moment when you shall not be missed
Can’t see it in the horizon even if the sun were kissed
In the years that have passed since
I've thought of you every single day
The pain has numbed
But hope just hasn’t betrayed

Being hit by a Thunderbolt ...

Dissolve To: Sicilian countryside. Young village girls pick flowers and sing. Unaware of Michael, Fabrizio and Calo watching them. One of the girls, Apollonia, is startled when she sees Michael. After an exchange of looks, Apollonia turns and walks away, saying something in Italian.

Fabrizio [In Italian]: Mama mia what a beauty
Apollonia [Something in Sicilian]
Fabrizio (to Michael, who can't keep his eyes off Apollonia): Oh -- I think you got hit by the thunderbolt
Calo (poking Michael's shoulder)[In Italian]: Michele -- In Sicily, women are more dangerous than shotguns (Apollonia turns to look at Michael)

Dissolve To: A small village cafe. We hear "Sicilian Pastorale." The owner, Vitelli, after yelling something into the kitchen, welcomes the guests, who are seating themselves at a table.

Vitelli [In Italian]: Did you have a good hunt?
Fabrizio [In Italian]: You know all the girls around here? We saw some real beauties ... (then, after Vitelli smiles) ... One of them struck our friend like a thunderbolt
Fabrizio [In Italian]: She would tempt the devil himself
Calo [In Italian]: ... tempt the devil ...
Vitelli (gesturing "put together" with his fingers) [Something like, in Italian]: Ah, I understand -- really put together...
Fabrizio [In Italian]: Really put together, eh Calo?
Calo [In Italian]: ...together
Vitelli (gesturing an ideal female form with his hands)
Fabrizio [In Italian]: Such hair -- such mouth!
Calo: A bocca...
Vitelli [In Italian]: Ah, the girls around here are beautiful -- but virtuous, ah?
Fabrizio [In Italian]: This one had a purple dress -- and a purple ribbon in her hair
Calo [In Italian]: ... a purple ribbon ...
Fabrizio [In Italian]: ... a type more Greek than Italian
Calo: Piu Greca d'Italiana
Fabrizio [In Italian]: Do you know her?
Vitelli (curtly)[In Italian]: No! -- There's no girl like that in this town! (Vitelli turns and enters the cafe, yelling)
Fabrizio (gets up to look into cafe) [In Italian]: My God, I understand!
Michael (to Calo) [In Italian]: What's wrong?
Fabrizio (returns, after Calo shrugs, to collect his things) [In Italian]: Let's go -- it's his daughter

Have any of you been hit by a thunderbolt ? Tell me your story ...

Of Flashes in the Pan, Coorgis and first crushes

Watching India beat England after chasing down 317 with 2 balls to spare reminded me of the Natwest One Day Final in 2002 where we chased down 326 and Ganguly performed a "Half Monty" from the Lord's Pavilion. It also reminded me of the famous India Pakistan match in the Independence Cup final in 1998 where we chased down 314. These 3 matches (forget about the order) are my favourite One day victories. The heroes in these matches, Robin Uthappa hitting 2 consecutive boundaries off Broad in the last over, Mohammed Kaif coming in at 146-5 and batting with great cricketing sense and Hrishikesh Kanitkar hitting Saqlain for 4 off the second last ball, were all unestablished when they played these gems. Looking back, both Kanitkar and Kaif lost it somewhere down the line. Some go to the extent of calling them flashes in the pan (though it would extremely unfair to call Kaif that). Only time will tell how Robin Uthappa will be judged but as always a billion people will expect him to do what he did last night everytime he comes to the crease. I do hope this Coorgi dude becomes one of India's next generation of cricketers.

There is something cool about the Coorgis though. We had a bunch of them in school and each of them had this cool streak running through them that by the end of my first year in school I wanted to be a coorgi as well (The only thing I guess which stopped me was that Venkat would have had to become Venkatappa, Venkayya, Venkanna or something similarly uncool). I was lucky enough to sit next to one such Coorgi in Grade 6. Kaveri was this one helluva beautfiul girl and I think by the time we finished our first term I was very much smitten by her. I was this budding philatelist then and during study hour one day I was sorting out my stamp collection. She seemed to be interested as well and I couldn't say "No" when she asked for a few stamps to start a collection of her own. Caught between possessiveness towards my collection and this request from the girl, I by now was very much in love with, I did the obvious - I gave her a couple of fake stamps from my collection (I think it was those funny moon landing collections from one of those Gulf emirates). Kaveri left after the 6th grade and I never got to meet here again. In all those years in between I would rather discreetly ask other Old school mates about her whereabouts and I'd always get a blank.

In 2005, I got this forwarded mail about the dangers of using a microwave to heat water (Moral of the e-mail: Don't heat water in a microwave unless the cup has something like a tea-bag or wooden stir to diffuse the energy built up). It was forwarded from a colleague and as I scrolled down to read it my eyes lit up. The originator happened to be the very same kaveri I knew in school. I shot off a mail asking if she ever went to the same school and if she remembered my fake stamp collection or me. Yes (she went to the same school) and no (she could neither remember me nor my fake stamp collection) was the reply.

As far as I can remember Kaveri was my first serious crush (till then all I had in my crush list were Class Teachers). I did learn from friends that Kaveri is now married to a fellow Coorgi who was a Senior at school but when I think of first crushes I still think of those balmy evenings of 1990 when I had to make the diffcult choice between parting with my stamp collection and indulging the girl I adored and I know I couldn't have done better.